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The best documentaries of 2010

Roger Ebert

Documentaries became a box office factor with the rise of such films as “Hoop Dreams” and “Roger & Me.” Before then, there were hit music documentaries like “Woodstock” but most other nonfiction films could expect short runs in few theaters before dutiful audiences. What a small but growing minority of Friday night moviegoers is beginning to discover is that there’s a good chance the movie they might enjoy most at the multiplex is a doc.

In alphabetical order, these were the best documentaries I saw in 2010:

Making out is its own reward

Roger Ebert

Fifty years ago, a brief letter to the editor of a student newspaper led to a national furor over academic freedom. When it broke in 1959, the Leo Koch Case dominated front pages and newscasts. It remained a story for three years. Today it is so thoroughly forgotten that not even Wikipedia, which knows everything, has heard of it.

I was on the campus the whole time and later edited the same campus paper, but I don’t want to write about the case. I want to write about what was said in the letter.

It was published in the autumn of 1960. Let me take you back on a trip through time. That was a Puritan era by today’s standards.

Winners of the 2011 Toronto Film Festival

Roger Ebert

Nadine Labaki’s “Where Do We Go Now?” won the coveted Cadillac People’s Choice Award on Sunday at the 2011 Toronto International Film Festival. At the noncompetitive festival with no jury, this award is voted on by moviegoers on their way out of the theaters, and tallied by a formulas that equalizes for audience sizes.

My career in retailing

Roger Ebert

Now that I’ve been fired by Amazon, my brief career in retailing seems to be at an end. Was it only last November I was assuring Chaz I could make a quarter of a million, easy, in Amazon commissions? After all, between Twitter and Facebook I had 440,000 customers in the store every day, and if 2% of them bought a DVD, that would work out to…

The new great American director

Roger Ebert

Ramin Bahrani is the new great American director. After three films, each a master work, he has established himself as a gifted, confident filmmaker with ideas that involve who and where we are at this time. His films pay great attention to ordinary lives that are not so ordinary at all. His subjects so far have been immigrants working hard to make a living in America. His fourth film, now in preparation, will be a Western. His hero will be named Tom. Well, he couldn’t very well be named Huckleberry.

The Old West, too, was a land of immigrants, many of them speaking no English. But Bahrani never refers to his characters as immigrants. They are new Americans, climbing the lower rungs of the economic ladder. There is the Pakistani in “Man Push Cart,” who operates a coffee-and-bagel wagon in Manhattan. The Latino kid in “Chop Shop,” surviving in a vast auto parts bazaar in the shadow of Shea Stadium. The taxi driver from Senegal in “Goodbye Solo,” who works long hours in Winston-Salem, N.C. [“Solo” opens March 27 in Chicago and New York.] These people are not grim and depressed, but hopeful when they have little to be hopeful about. They aren’t walking around angry. Wounded, sometimes. They plan to prevail.

The best films of 2009

Roger Ebert

Since Moses brought the tablets down from the mountain, lists have come in tens, not that we couldn’t have done with several more commandments. Who says a year has Ten Best Films, anyway? Nobody but readers, editors, and most other movie critics. There was hell to pay last year when I published my list of Twenty Best. You’d have thought I belched at a funeral. So this year I have devoutly limited myself to exactly ten films.

Thank you for smoking

Roger Ebert

This stamp honoring Bette Davis was issued by the U. S. Postal Service on Sept. 18. The portrait by Michael Deas was inspired by a still photo from “All About Eve.” Notice anything missing? Before you even read this far, you were thinking, Where’s her cigarette? Yes reader, the cigarette in the original photo has been eliminated. We are all familiar, I am sure, with the countless children and teenagers who have been lured into the clutches of tobacco by stamp collecting, which seems so innocent, yet can have such tragic outcomes. But isn’t this is carrying the anti-smoking campaign one step over the line?

Depriving Bette Davis of her cigarette reminds me of Soviet revisionism, when disgraced party officials disappeared from official photographs. Might as well strip away the toupees of Fred Astaire and Jimmy Stewart. I was first alerted to this travesty by a reader, Wendell Openshaw of San Diego, who wrote me: “Do you share my revulsion for this attempt to revise history and distort a great screen persona for political purposes? It is political correctness and revisionist history run amok. Next it will be John Wayne holding a bouquet instead of a Winchester!”

The great Chicago photographer Victor Skrebneski took one of the most famous portraits of Davis. I showed him the stamp. His response: “I have been with Bette for years and I have never seen her without a cigarette! No cigarette! Who is this impostor?” I imagine Davis might not object to a portrait of her without a cigarette, because she posed for many. But to have a cigarette removed from one of her most famous poses! What she did to Joan Crawford in “What Ever Happened to Baby Jane” wouldn’t even compare to what ever would have happened to the artist Michael Deas.

Books do furnish a life

Roger Ebert

When I get a little money I buy books; and if any is left I buy food and clothes. — Erasmus

One afternoon in Cape Town I sat in my little room at University House and took inventory. This must have been in June, winter in the southern hemisphere, and it had been raining steadily for most of a week. I was virtually alone in the student residence; the others had packed off for vacation. With an umbrella and plastic slicker I’d ventured out once or twice to the Pig and Whistle, where I favored the Ploughman’s Lunch, but to sustain life I’d laid in a supply of tinned sardines, cheddar and swiss cheese, Hob Nobs, apples, Carr’s Water Biscuits, ginger cookies, Hershey bars, biltong, sausage and a pot of jam. I had a little electric coil that would bring a cup of water to a boil, a jar of Nescafe, a box of sugar and some Instant Postum.

Not my office, but very close

I wrote in my journal: “I have not spoken to anyone since Monday. The radio is playing ‘Downtown’ by Petula Clerk. I’ve been reading some Shaw — Man and Superman. I’m wearing jeans, my cable knit sweater and my Keds. I’ve made coffee and am waiting for it to cool. Let it be recorded that at this moment I am happy.”

Does anyone want to be “well-read?”

Roger Ebert

“Death disports with writers more cruelly than with the rest of humankind,” Cynthia Ozick wrote in a recent issue of The New Republic.

“The grave can hardly make more mute those who were voiceless when alive–dust to dust, muteness to muteness. But the silence that dogs the established writer’s noisy obituary, with its boisterous shock and busy regret, is more profound than any other.

“Oblivion comes more cuttingly to the writer whose presence has been felt, argued over, championed, disparaged–the writer who is seen to be what Lionel Trilling calls a Figure. Lionel Trilling?

Who do you read? Good Roger, or Bad Roger?

Roger Ebert

This message came to me from a reader named Peter Svensland. He and a friend have been debating about my qualities as a film critic, and they’ve involved a considerable critic, Dan Schneider, in their discussion. I will say that he has given the question a surprising amount of thought and attention over the years, and may well be correct in some aspects. What his analysis gives me is a renewed respect and curiosity about his own work.

¶

The storyteller and the stallion

Roger Ebert

Bill Nack is a born story-teller. The author of the biography Secretariat has enveloped me time and again in the fascination of his tales. That process began nearly 50 years ago at the University of Illinois, when we were both working on The Daily Illini. I was the editor, he was the sports editor, and then the following year he was the editor. He was also a natural writer — and, perhaps more significantly, a natural reader. His taste was persuasive.

He approached literature like a gourmet. He relished it, savored it, inhaled it, and after memorizing it rolled it on his tongue and spoke it aloud. It was Nack who already knew in the early 1960s, when he was a very young man, that Nabokov was perhaps the supreme stylist of modern novelists. He recited to me from Lolita, and from Speak, Memory and Pnin. I was spellbound.

Hell, no, I 80% wouldn’t pay for Twitter!

Roger Ebert

A survey by the Annenberg School for Communications polled some 1,900 subjects and asked them if they would be willing to pay for Twitter. The percent who said they would was 0.00%. I’m not sure that number requires two places after the decimal, but that’s what the report said.

This seemed improbably low to me. I tweeted with the same question to my 196,000 followers on Twitter, asking them not to forward or link so that the sample would be reasonably pure. The results are shown below.

They’re not great figures for Twitter. But they must be surprising news for Annenberg, suggesting their survey was

Our fast new Yahoo! search

Roger Ebert

At last this site has a fast search engine. A Yahoo search can be found at the upper left corner of every page of rogerebert.com itself (not on this blog). The top line searches by movie title and performs almost instantly, although it demands an exact title: “G.I. Joe,” for example, not “G. I Joe” (“G.I.” is an abbreviation, not the initials of a name). To search the site in other ways, go to “Advanced Search,” To search the blog entries on “Roger Ebert’s Journal, there is a Search box at the upper right of every blog page. This will search by words or phrases, and, yes, will find you all the entries of any individual poster, although this takes a little time because of the millions of words involved. Comments are open on this new feature.