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roger ebert

Apr 18 2009
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The Wisdom of Buddy

By Asides

Buddy Hackett talk­ing about work­ing in Vegas, quoted by Ebert:

“I was offered twice the dough to move to a cer­tain hotel,” he told me, “but noth­ing doing. Comics who work that room always flop. There’s a phys­ic­al reas­on for that. The stage is above the eye lines of too much of the audi­ence. At the Sahara, the seats are banked and most of the audi­ence is look­ing down at the stage. Everybody in the busi­ness knows: Up for sing­ers, down for com­ics. The people want to ideal­ize a sing­er. They want to feel super­i­or to a com­ic. You’re try­ing to make them laugh. They can­’t laugh at someone they’re look­ing up to.”

Jan 11 2009
Love0

More Ebert

By Asides, Dinner for One, Wellington

Roger Ebert on the per­son­al, private places he loves (and the joys of being alone with them, as well as the occa­sion­al pleas­ures to be found in shar­ing them):

I first vis­ited the Moscow Arms near Pembridge Square in 1970, when the room fee at the hotel now named the Blue Bells was £4 a night. I have nev­er met any­body in that pub. I always sit in the same corner booth. There is a man who comes in every lunch­time, tat­tooed, bald, and wear­ing a motor­cycle jack­et. He is nearly 40 years older now, but he is still there, and it looks like it’s still the same jack­et. Has he noticed me cross­ing his field of vis­ion 50 or 75 times in his life­time? Certainly not. But if he still comes at lunch­time every day, it is my duty to bear wit­ness, because by now I have become the only per­son in the Moscow Arms who knows how long he has been doing this, or cares. I believe this includes him.

I too enjoy sit­ting alone in cafés, res­taur­ants and bars. Indeed this very morn­ing I took brunch at The Cheeky Pipi in Island Bay and, des­pite the average-ness of the cof­fee and the meal, I enjoyed the sit­ting, the read­ing and the watching.

Dec 15 2008
Love0

Ebert on ... writing

By Asides, Blogging, Literature

Roger Ebert writ­ing about writ­ing (and speak­ing) at his blog:

The nov­el [McCarthy’s Suttree] is writ­ten entirely with that atten­tion. You haven’t even star­ted it until you’ve star­ted it the second time. After weeks of depres­sion, hope­less­ness and regret, real­iz­ing the oper­a­tion had failed and I would prob­ably not speak again, after murky med­ic­a­tions and no interest in movies, tele­vi­sion, books or even the morn­ing paper, it was the bleak, sad Suttree that star­ted me to life again. Spare me happy books that will cheer me up. I was fight­ing it out with Suttree. I did­n’t want a condo in Florida. I wanted a fuck­ing bas­ket of coal.

Is it me or is Ebert writ­ing bet­ter than ever?

Update: Posted before I’d read all the com­ments. Read those too.

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