Having lived in
Chicago for over ten years until I relocated to Dallas in July 1984, I can
honestly say that for much of the late 70s and early 80s, I grew up reading
film critics Gene Siskel’s and Roger Ebert’s columns almost every Friday in
their perspective newspapers, the Chicago Tribune and Chicago Sun-Times.
I cannot say I agreed with every movie they recommended. I walked out of “The English Patient” (1996) twice and will not be seeing one of their ten best movies of 1998, “Babe: Pig in the City”, anytime soon. But the one thing I enjoyed most about their columns was getting two varying opinions.
What I remember most about Siskel’s written reviews in the 80s was how he seemed to produce a phrase that captured his overall opinion of what he thought of a film. Those one-sentence phrases, usually in small boldface letters, were always above the credits. I remember the phrase he gave to “Superman III” in 1983, “Where is all the love?” The question fit the tone of what was missing from the third installment that to Siskel, was most present in the first two movies.
I did not start
watching their weekly television show called “Sneak Previews” until it went
into syndication in 1978 on PBS. Back then the two recapped the movies they
just reviewed with either a yes or no vote to each one. After I moved to
Dallas, however, I did not catch the program as much. I always took it for
granted thinking the two hosts would always be around until the show was
canceled. Or they would continue to write reviews in both metropolitan papers
until they retired.
According to an article in the Chicago Tribune from Feb. 20, 1999, the duo signed on with Tribune Entertainment in 1982, which expanded the number of stations that carried the show and changed the title to “At the Movies.” When Buena Vista Television took over the program in 1986, the title was changed again to “Siskel & Ebert & the Movies.” By that time, television audiences had already familiarized themselves with the Chicago critic’s thumbs up/thumbs down style to film recommendations.
Their popularity increased with occasional guest appearances on talk shows like “The Late Show with David Letterman”, “The Tonight Show with Jay Leno”, “Regis & Kathy Lee”, and “Oprah Winfrey” and were even parodied in Mad magazine and movies like “Summer School” (1987) and “Godzilla” (1998).
Just as I enjoyed
getting two different perspectives in print, the best moments on television were
when the duo disagreed. There was Siskel last fall praising the Sandra
Bullock/Nicole Kidman comedy, “Practical Magic” (1998), saying how the film gave
some unique insight about witchcraft. Ebert retorted back saying the picture
had nothing to say about witchcraft. To him, it was simply a dumb comedy.
When Siskel gave thumbs up to “Star Trek: Insurrection” (1998) last December, he told Ebert the movie’s thought-provoking discussions about interfering with alien life were “more profound than anything Yoda ever said” in the Star Wars trilogy.
The duo’s yearly tradition was to list their personal best and worst movies. I remember in 1993 when the competitive rivals listed a title the other one liked calling it his number one worst. Ebert’s worst pick was Siskel’s favorite, “Carnosaur”, a cheap sci-fi/horror film that starred Diane Ladd as a scientist who creates a dinosaur. Siskel, on the other hand, who throughout his writing career did not like a lot of actor Burt Reynolds’ movies and with good reason listed Ebert’s favorite, “Cop and a Half”, as his personal worst. As the end credits rolled, the two were still arguing about how one could possibly like the other.
And as the series of
shows evolved, the subject was not just on movies. Over the course of 24 years
together (they started critiquing films on PBS in 1975 according to several
articles), the pair hosted specials on the Oscar nominations and the early film
careers of rising stars like Jim Carrey and even discussing Digital Video Disc
(DVD) players.
What was especially apparent on television was how enthusiastic Siskel was when he talked about a film. I could tell he spoke from the heart. He was so dedicated to his profession that I could not believe it when last May, shortly after his operation to remove a cancerous growth from his brain, he was back. Sort of that is, reviewing movies from his hospital bed phoning in his comments on a segment while Ebert spoke live from the balcony.
Before the program ended, Gene asked Roger jokingly if anyone sat in his seat in his absence. In the months after his surgery, it was noticeable he was not the same. Siskel’s speech was a little slower, but I expected that after an operation and the passion was still there. I thought for sure he was recovering and did not even know he had taken a leave of absence from the program in early February to recuperate until I read his obituary in the Tribune.
When Siskel died Feb. 20, 1999, at 53, Ebert was quoted in the Tribune saying he thinks the show will continue but it “will never be the same without him.”
If such is the case, it will take some getting used to not seeing “the tall, skinny one” sitting across from Ebert in the balcony every week.
As the saying in Hollywood goes, “The show must go on” but the lingering feeling will always remain.
It will never be the same.
Today, as I bring up both Chicago newspapers on the computer, it feels like I am reading only one.
©2/22/99