I recently saw the Roger Ebert documentary and the experience was special enough that I felt like writing about it. I sort of just went into the writing process without a plan and just stream-of-consciousness-style wrote it out. It is pretty relevant to this community so I thought I would share. Be warned, it is long. Too long, it needs to be way cut down. But since I wrote this more for myself than to be widely read, I did very minimal editing.
Sometimes in life, you have a moment where life and art seem to intersect perfectly. I had one of those last week when I saw Life Itself, the documentary on the life of Roger Ebert. It was created by Steve James, known best as the director of the 1994 documentary Hoop Dreams.
I knew going into the theater that this one would be special for me. As a child, I had a habit of staying up late watching TV and one of my favorite shows came on Saturday nights after the late news: Siskel & Ebert. I have no idea why I became so enthralled by their debates. Given my young age, most of the movies they discussed I would not see. Nonetheless, I would dutifully watch the show every week. I continued the habit after Siskel's death and the guest hosts and Richard Roeper did nothing to dampen my interest. I had always identified with Ebert's opinions more often anyway.
As I gained the newly found freedom of having money to spend with my first job at 15, I started to actually consume the movies being reviewed. I no longer would watch the show on Saturday nights. Instead, I would watch the film first, take some time to reflect upon it, then fire up the computer and read Ebert's take on the Chicago Sun Times website.
When comparing opinions, I found we were often in agreement in what we liked. However, Ebert was able to explain why a movie was great in such an eloquent manner that it was as if he was teaching me why I liked a movie. Reading his review habitually became the last step of all my movie-viewing experiences. For movies I really enjoyed, I would actually write own my mini review before reading his. While I could never come close to his quality of analysis, I was starting to develop an eye for it. More importantly, I was learning how to articulate my opinion.
Unfortunately, while Ebert was teaching me to find my voice, I was struggling to understand my identity. I had feelings of gender dysphoria starting at a very young age. When I was young, I was able to just bury them; I knew to do any thing else with them was simply wrong. However, as I grew into my teenage years I started to develop a greater understanding of what I was feeling, and I know longer saw myself as wrong. Instead, it was just society who had the problem. This realization did not quell my inner turmoil, but increased it. I was finally developing an understanding of my dysphoria, but addressing it was not an option. I was convinced that I did not, and never would, have the courage to buck societal norms and be myself. Should anyone learn of who I really was, it would surely bring enough shame that death would be the only option. I continued to bury my feelings, though it now required far more energy to do so.
I became a robot. I convinced myself I didn't need to feel. If any emotions did slip through the cracks, they were not allowed to show. I would become the rock others could lean on – always available to listen while never speaking in return. It is clear to me now that's why I devoured movies. The theater became the only safe place to feel anything.
Much like how he had taught me why I liked the movies I did, Ebert was able to perfectly capture why I loved movies in remarks given upon receiving a Walk of Fame star.
"Movies are the most powerful empathy machine in all the arts. When I go to a great movie I can live somebody else's life for a while. I can walk in somebody else's shoes. I can see what it feels like to be a member of a different gender, a different race, a different economic class, to live in a different time, to have a different belief."
And that is exactly how I was using movies. Through them I was able to feel emotions without them being my own. I was just a vessel for the fictional characters' emotions. I vicariously experienced their happiness, fear and sorrow.
In the past year, I have made two big changes in my life. The easier of the two was to finally start pursuing a degree in journalism. I owe most of the inspiration for that to Ebert. The more difficult choice was finally taking the steps to align my body and mind. I have started hormone replacement therapy, and one of the things I most look forward to was finally feeling real emotion.
Now, back to Life Itself. Since being on estrogen, I have slowly started to feel more comfortable with my feelings. I've even teared up during a couple movies. But as the film opened with a scene of people outside the Chicago Theater after Ebert's death and my eyes instantly welled, I knew I was about to experience my walls break down. I was given a reprieve as I was inspired with stories of Ebert as a student journalist and a young, brash critic. I also was able to laugh at behind-the-scenes clips of Siskel and Ebert butting heads followed by them finally bonding. Soon enough, the tears came rushing back upon Siskel's death and they became a constant trickle as Ebert's health deteriorated. I could feel the flood coming as Ebert's emails to James became short and somber.
Then it happened: Chaz Ebert described the scene of her husbands death and I became a puddle.
For the first time as an adult, I was uncontrollably sobbing. Had it stopped there, it would have been an incredibly liberating experience. However, the film shifted from mourning to celebration. After briefly speaking of how painful it was to lose him, Ebert's loved ones shifted to talk about his legacy. The same scene of the Chicago Theater that pained me 90 minutes ago now filled my heart. Seeing the large number of people paying tribute the man gave me incredible joy.
Just moments after experiencing my first real sad storm of tears, I was now sobbing because I could not contain the overwhelming warmth I felt.
As the credits rolled, my movie-going partner was crying so hard she dashed to the exit for fresh air. I quickly sniffled in my tears and chased her. I may have shed my robot status, but I was still conditioned to be other people's emotional rock. I was able to compose myself on the surface, but I felt forever changed on the inside.
It would be hyperbolic to say Roger Ebert has defined my life, but given he is the inspiration for my career path, he has come pretty close. Therefore, I feel pretty lucky that this piece of art just happened to come along at this particular moment in my life. Ebert for so long changed the way I vicariously experienced emotion, it is only appropriate that he was the start of me feeling real emotion.
Thank you if you actually read all of that, and I would love your critique.
