The Enthusiast: On Roger Ebert
In 2010, at the age of 67, Roger Ebert reviewed The Human Centipede (First Sequence) – a horror flick that seems to exist primarily to make viewers vomit. As a professional movie critic for more than four decades, Ebert could have been forgiven for skipping it altogether. But he turned in a no-star-rating review that begins with an earnest rumination on the path to mortality: “It’s not death itself that’s so bad. It’s what you might have to go through to get there.”
Tagged: Critics, Death, Roger Ebert
Some marriages come with two microwave ovens or two sets of dishes. Ours did, too, but it also came with two copies of Infinite Jest. This speaks less to our reading habits than our book-buying habits. I do not believe that Bride of Culture Snob has read David Foster Wallace’s doorstop from 1996. I didn’t get far enough to invoke the 69-page rule, which dictates that I must finish a book once I’ve gotten to that point. So I won’t tell you – now that he’s killed himself at age 46 – that I devoured every word he wrote, or that I’ve memorized favorite passages, or that I’ve ranked my favorite Wallace foot/end notes.
Among cinematic monsters with any staying power, is there any quite as pathetic as the zombie?
It’s not hard to figure out why Robert Altman was the center of attention with last summer’s A Prairie Home Companion – even though we didn’t know at the time of its release that it would be his final movie.
To slake your thirst for Culture Snob poetry, as well as the interactive, I have crafted multiple options for haiku based on Lynne Stopkewich’s 1996 movie Kissed. If you’ve never seen it or heard of it, I think you’ll get the gist pretty quickly.