A review of
an anthology of reviews, how meta! Your
Movie Sucks* consists of Roger Ebert’s most scathing reviews of movies that
earned two-stars or less. The collection comes seven years after I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie and
five years before A Horrible Experience
of Unbearable Length, which cover different time frames but have the same
agenda. There are a lot of movies that suck and Ebert wants you to know about
them so you can run far, far away and save the $12. Good looks, Roger Ebert.
Unlike me,
who is only “qualified” to write book reviews insofar as I read a lot of
literature because my roommates and I can’t afford cable, Ebert wields over
forty years of film criticism experience in an official capacity. He began as a
critic for the Chicago Sun-Times in
1967 and ended up as a household
name. Indeed, he was the first of his kind to earn the Pulitzer Prize for
Criticism and receive a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Maybe if I complain
about not getting bagels at 9 AM staff meetings enough, I’ll get a prize for
criticism too. #Hangry.
I was first
drawn to this book when I saw it listed on oysterbooks.com. Anyone who
has heard me rant about electronic reading mediums knows that I am
fundamentally against e-books in that it renders the reading experience
inauthentic. I like to support local bookstores, hold an actual book in my hand while I read it, and place it in my
bookshelf to either lend it to others or revisit it later. At the same time,
there are plenty of books that I’m only mildly interested in—material that I
think would be entertaining but not high enough in the queue to purchase. There
are also moments in my day in which reading a physical book is impossible. Like
when the subway is so crowded that I’m nuzzling a stranger’s chest, or when I’m
at my desk allegedly doing work. Acknowledging these evil forces vying to
prevent me from peeling open a paperback, I succumb to using Oyster only when the alternative is not an
option. You can succumb too by using my link for a free trial for both of us. *Shameless*.
I’m no movie buff, but I immediately
respected Ebert’s opinions when I discovered we shared an extreme distaste for
Adam Sandler, who is so desperately unfunny that it pains me to watch him on
screen. But even without this communal bond, I found Ebert’s reviews
impressive. He exudes a commanding presence in his writing, creatively
attacking every movie without missing a beat. Each assault is new and
imaginative, even if the underlying problems in some of the films are the same.
He is also pretty funny, which
supplements his expertise in a way that makes the book more enjoyable to
someone with a less methodical approach to the movies. For instance, with
regards to the 2001 film Company Man,
Ebert applies “Gene Siskel’s classic question, ‘Is this movie better than a
documentary of the same actors having lunch?’ In this case, it is not even
better than a documentary of the same actors ordering room service while fighting
the stomach flu” (Company Man,
section C). Let’s goooooo. He’s not afraid to call a shitty movie out for its
shittiness, as when he declares, “to call [A
Lot Like Love] dead in the water is an insult to water” or when he notes,
“Elements of [No Such Thing] seem not
merely half-baked, but never to have seen the inside of an oven” (A Lot Like Love, section L; No Such Thing, section N).
Not only are his derisions amusing,
they’re also well informed. Ebert is obviously very knowledgeable in his field.
He consistently reveals how certain character names or attributes are subtle
connections to past films and he is thorough in explaining why remakes or
prequels/sequels pale in comparison to the originals. Because of his
film-familiarity, he is fair in his critiques, giving credit to
writers/directors who have made good movies in the past yet still relentlessly
berating them for a flop. Interestingly, he generally deflects blame from the
actors and on to the screenplay itself and the director behind it; he accuses
the “character” rather than the one who plays it. He has seen so many movies at
this point that he is especially attune to recycled clichés—formula films that
draw on a number of unoriginal devices to garner a laugh or secure a scream
from the audience. As such, horror films take a big hit.
Most importantly, I trust him. A
good review gives you some context and perspective, but leaves a sliver of
wiggle room to figure out for yourself if this (book, movie, or otherwise) is
something you might be fond of. There
is a method to his madness—he takes notes during films and peruses the reviews
of his colleagues (House of D, section
H). And he doesn’t look at the entertainment factor alone; he also considers
gender and racial politics, as well as larger moral implications. Despite this
high praise for his process, I’m thankful that he allowed me wiggle room to
disagree with his low ratings on the following films: Crossroads (I mean, it’s Britney, bitch), The Hills Have Eyes, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Pearl Harbor (hiiiii
Ben Affleck), Serendipity, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (although I
will admit the OG version is best).
These minor qualms aside, I enjoyed
his book. He’s witty, not afraid to be honest even if it means making enemies,
and meticulous in his ratings. If you’re movie savvy, you will recognize most
of the films and relish in their degradation; if you’re like me-- where you
watch a decent amount of movies but don’t pore over the details—you’ll think
it’s good for what it is, but not spectacular. It is alphabetically organized,
and once I reached “W”, I felt the redundancy of the negativity. So, for me, Your Movie Sucks clocks in at a solid 3
out of 5 camel humps.
*Ebert, Robert. Your Movie Sucks. Kansas City: Andrews
McMeel Publishing, LLC, 2009. https://www.oysterbooks.com/book/7QQehfsJYvCBEVV4p9WyiV.
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