Remember how you could write into Roger Ebert with a film-related question? I think I did twice. One time it was a Cassavetes question, and he wrote back to say he did not know the answer, but suggested I ask Ray Carney, which I did, and which led to an interesting brief correspondence between Carney and myself. I forget the exact question -- I think it had to do with the odd number of films John Marley and Lynn Carlin appear together in, but the answer or the fine details escape me. I got some inscribed Ray Carney memorabilia out of it (!). I think I sent him a Love Streams item he did not have (I *added* to his hoard).
So thanks, Roger, for that!
The second time I wrote Roger Ebert, I think, was to ask if he ever considered writing a book about times he got it wrong. He did seem now and again to be able to acknowledge fallability. And lord knows all of us can get something wrong now and then! I wasn't meaning it as a criticism, but he didn't respond to that one. Maybe my question came too close to the "Brown Bunny/ colonscopy period" ("we've had quite enough of that, thanks!").
I didn't actually care about that, to be honest, though I thought he handled it all (that is, Gallo) with panache and intelligence, kinda. No, he got that one free; instead, my case in point was a Diane Keaton feature film called The Good Mother. Boy he got that wrong!
And what's interesting is to see -- sympathetically -- just how BADLY he gets it wrong, and how. He's judging the film against the standards of a women's weepie or something, against Hollywood formulae, when it needed to be judged against the standards of Ingmar Bergman or Shakespeare or AT LEAST FUCKING FASSBINDER FOR FUCKSAKE, you know? (I did not write that part to Ebert! I was much more polite). But Fassbinder told as a contemporary child custody case.
It's really a film about cultural values in conflict, and... I'm not even really sure how to sum it up. It's a film about the dangers of not sticking up for ones values, an everyday tragedy. Just another story about how fear eats the soul.
It's an astonishing film, and a great adaptation of the novel (which I also read and also admired; even as a kid, I had a love for dramas like this, or say, Ordinary People or The Big Chill, both of which I also saw first run and admired in different ways). The Good Morther is a film that has been widely underestimated. It is only a little bit less grim than Dancer in the Dark, and may not to be everyone's taste, but it is not answerable to the formulae that Ebert expected it to follow!
I may have accused Ebert of damaging its reputation a little, in fact. But like, that's a whole book to be written: the HOW DARE YOU "fan" mail. Weirdos. He must have drawn a few, and maybe I made it into his "weirdo" file. Hell, even I have a weirdo or two. There's a country song there for ya: "Everybody's friend is somebody's weirdo, and Everbody's Weirdo is somebody's friend."
Anyhow, I didn't bug him after that, though I would have welcomed his response with fondness; I meant no ill will. I hope that was clear! It would have rocked if he'd watched the film again with my guidance and "got" it. He missed out.
And the film is also the greatest thing Leonard Nimoy ever did. Not the most popular, but it's a terrific piece of cinema. The whole cast is great. Jason Robards, Ralph Bellamy, Teresa Wright (gotta look her up), Joe Morton, other familiar faces, plus apparently Matt Damon and Ben Affleck are extras in it (?! I just showed the film to Erika and I think we found Affleck but good luck on Damon. Now I have something to ask the guy if I ever run into him).
And it's a side of Liam Neeson you don't see much of these days, either (maybe his best work, too? It is a film his fans would find very interesting, a challenging role).
Proud to have seen it first run. Have seen it a couple times since, and Erika and I just watched it in Ms. Keaton's respect tonight. If I'd ever interacted with her, I'd have asked about this movie. She's great in it.
She had guts, took gutsy, interesting roles. This is the best one I've seen, but it raises some challenging questions. The best works of art tend to do that. My respects, Ms. Keaton. Thanks for having the guts.