The Natural
LIFE ITSELF: A Memoir.
By Roger Ebert.
Grand Central. 435 pp. $27.99
Before I loved the movies, I loved Roger Ebert. As a teenager, I spent hours lying on my bed, engrossed in a fat purple volume of his Home Movie Companion, with its summaries of “grownup” films I had never dared to see: Leaving Las Vegas, Flirting, Natural Born Killers. Later, I would understand how much more grownup Ebert’s reviews were than many of the movies themselves, but at the time, I just knew he was genuine. His informal prose, often suggesting a chat between intimate friends, radiated a nearly aching romance with cinema. He retold other people’s stories, and sometimes I recognized my own.
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Aaron Mesh is a movie critic and reporter for Willamette Week , an alternative weekly newspaper in Portland, Oregon.
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