Hunt for the Wilderpeople
A road movie and coming-of-age tale, Hunt for the Wilderpeople is consistently clever and even moving—proof that we’ll keep listening to familiar stories if they’re…
It has been six months since you left us, but your words about your leave were prophetic: You took a "Leave of Presence," which means you are not physically here with us, but your essence and your works and your very spirit linger on. I miss you more than ever, and love you for all eternity. Today we want to celebrate you with various works.
We're introducing a new feature on the site, "My Favorite Roger," which lets people share one piece of your writing they love and tell us why it is their favorite. We started by asking some of our writers, and we got some interesting submissions. We report on your award from the Poynter Institute, and the Ebertfest nomination for a Regional Emmy. And some of our readers were upset that the Emmys didn't present a segment on you even though at 36 years, you had one of the longest running shows on television and after all you and Gene did invent a whole new genre of television in the movie review show, and started a trend in debate shows that were duplicated across genres. So we are presenting a bit about the history of the show. But I know you and you would have been fine being included in the In Memoriam section. We're reporting on how others are remembering you. And finally, we are presenting a letter from the actor Rob Schneider who caused you to name a book, "Your Movie Sucks." Schneider later had a very profound effect on you when you were in the hospital pondering the meaning of life. I could see that his act of kindness transformed you and caused you to strengthen your belief in the goodness of the human race. I wanted to see what effect it had on Rob.
For about the first four-and-a-half months I was doing okay, but as the fifth month since your death approached I was like a little kid who said, I am tired of you being in Heaven, I want you to come back. The reality set in that this is permanent. You would never walk on this earth with me again. But you have made yourself known in other ways that have brought me joy and comfort. And you have found ways to let me know that you are in a good place. I cannot begrudge you that. You fought the good fight for seven years. We called them the Seven Miracle Years.
And you had such a refreshing and optimistic view on life that you were an inspiration to me and others. You decided that you just didn't want to battle cancer again. You were ready to move on. I had to respect that decision. It is so personal for each person. You were courageous and kind in asking me to let you go. And so I held your hand and whispered in your ear as you were transitioning, and you gave me the gift of seeing that you transitioned peacefully and seamlessly. You were a beautiful and luminous sight to behold. And the room was filled with such love. Everyone felt it. You are love. Eternal.
Rest in Peace My Darling
This message came to me from a reader named Peter Svensland. He and a fr...
The new "Ghostbusters" film brings a battle between distorted nostalgia and the power of a child's imagination.
FFC Gerardo Valero returns to "The Shawshank Redemption" to investigate how it remains the #1 film on IMDb.