Podcast Review: Gene and Roger

The Ringer recently ended its eight-part podcast Gene and Roger, a retrospective on how a weekly TV show featuring two film critics influenced pop culture in their storied run from 1975-99. To those born after the show aired, they're a curiosity: two middle aged white guys from Chicago talking movies was a thing? Yet to any young movie fan who came of age when the show aired it was must see television. For anyone interested in their history - Gene and Roger is a fun place to start.

The podcast moves on two tracks: how their rivalry/friendship evolved over the decades and how film culture changed during their tenure. Both found their critical voices during the New Hollywood era. Ebert was a phenom on the literary scene at the University of Illinois, writing the screenplay for the Beyond the Valley of the Dolls. He got a full time gig at the Chicago Sun-Times reviewing films, and in 1975 earned the Pulitzer Prize for criticism (a first for a movie critic). Siskel graduated from Yale with a philosophy degree and became the movie critic for the Chicago Tribune. As competing writers in the same town, each developed a dislike towards each other in the early days. 

In 1975 they agreed to do a television show for PBS, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest was their first review. The tone was serious for the early episodes, but they eventually found a rhythm. Always competitive towards each other, a grudging respect developed. They were also film journalists, hustling to get the interview and exclusive from a star or director. Both savored the chance to be the first to write a review of a new movie, and even more to proselyte for an underdog movie. In 1982 their show Sneak Previews moved into syndication, and they became fixtures of pop culture, making regular appearances on talk shows, even hosting SNL at the height of their fame.

The podcast features narration and interviews with those who knew them best including family members, co-workers, and fellow critics. I always got the sense Ebert was generally more passionate about movies, while Siskel was more interested in movies as a reflection of culture. Ebert lived movies 24/7, watching and writing about them as if his life depended on it. Siskel had interests outside of reviewing movies, he spent a lot time at the race track. In the 1990s he became a fixture at Chicago Bulls games during the Jordan era. The most persistent myth is that they despised each other and always disagreed, when they usually agreed.

Their rise paralleled that of the Hollywood blockbuster, a trend they generally championed. Both loved Star Wars and Spielberg movies, famously defending Return of the Jedi against John Simon's blistering critique. They also made a point of discussing diversity voices in cinema, always reviewing at least one international film a week. Indie movies and filmmakers were championed alongside mainstream releases. Entire episodes were devoted to trends in movies, film history, and filmmakers. Film appreciation often took precedence over criticism. 

Gene and Roger creates a compelling narrative around their friendship and ends on a bittersweet note. They were antagonistic, but a respect developed over time.  They rarely socialized and moved in different circles, but each realized their together they had a chemistry that brought to fame. When Siskel was diagnosed with brain cancer he never informed Ebert about the seriousness of his condition.  In retrospectives Ebert always spoke highly of Siskel and would often get emotional. Ebert transitioned well into the social media, embracing twitter and keeping up with contemporary films despite the health problems that plagued him. 

The internet would change film discourse forever, no longer would a handful of critics in major markets dominate the discourse. In a way Siskel and Ebert midwifed a generation of crazed movie geeks with explosive opinions, making the internet their home base. They also introduced many to the wide variety of cinema available. Each had their weak spots. Ebert still gets dinged by horror fans for his dislike of slashers, while Siskel's takes often varied wildly, ranging from prescient to superficial. Most of it's all on youtube for anyone to view. 

If you want to go back and reminisce and reflect on the state of current film criticism, I'd recommend Gene and Siskel.

https://www.theringer.com/gene-and-roger-podcast

A Kubrick Short Set in Ohio

 

"Margaret Stackhouse's speculations on the film [2001: A Space Odyssey] are perhaps the most intelligent that I've read anywhere, and I am, of course, including all the reviews and the articles that have appeared on the film and the many hundreds of letters that I have received. What a first-rate intelligence!"

- Stanley Kubrick, circa late 1960s          

March 6, 1999

          Guiding my nephew Robby over to the kid's section, which was oddly situated next to the horror section at Vince's Videos, I stood back waiting for him to pick out something, knowing he was fond of Pinky and the Brain and Power Rangers. Vince's seemed more active than usual for a Sunday, typically the day everyone returned their tapes. I noticed a gathering of customers at the classics section, and I heard someone say, "Stanley Kubrick died." The words got my attention, "Stanley Kubrick died." 

          My mind drifted back to 1986 all squiggly TV lines/harp sounds style when I worked at the video store to scrape through college, you could do that with part-time job back then. My co-workers were a social melting pot of working-class intellectuals, wannabee filmmakers, and college students like me. Most of all I remembered Lisa. 

          Lisa went to art school and for a time was the only female employee at the store, although she later got a few of her friends hired. There was a power structure. Video stores were a boy’s club, dudes endlessly debating the virtues and vices of American cinema. It wasn't like the 20-something cinephiles of today who proudly compare their Criterion Collections of Ozu and Bergman, Manhunter was considered the pinnacle of cinema in Mid-Eighties Ohio. There were many characters. A few I remember: Monroe made his own little films with Super 8 and blustered on all day about his favorite cult classics like Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia and The Mack. Travis majored in film studies, a sort of self-appointed cultural board of authority. 

          While Monroe and Travis clashed all the time, Lisa often jumped into the fray, pouring cold water on their egotistical rants. I typically stood clear when a fracas between the three of them broke out, but they are lodged in my memory. 

          If Monroe and Travis had anything in common, it was their endless fascination with Kubrick. Travis preferred the earlier New York City guerilla filmmaker fare like Killer's Kiss and The Killing, both progressing to the formalist precision of Paths of Glory and Dr. Strangelove. Monroe argued A Clockwork Orange was the true masterpiece, a dark and spectral vison of the future influencing all the arts from punk music to comics.

    On that particular day, a customer was renting out The Shining, providing Travis with the opportunity to recommend Kubrick's earlier work. A trigger for Monroe, he butted in with his opinion, "Don't listen to him, The Shining is great. You'll love it, almost as good as A Clockwork Orange."

    As the customer walked out, Travis was pissed at Monroe, "Stop interrupting me in front of customers!”

    Monroe cackled, "With all of your horrible recommendations I cannot remain silent. Last week you recommended Balthazar to a five-year-old child.”

    Travis, always ready to for a sparring match, "The Shining is an overlong exercise for anyone's patience. Nicholson is in self-parody mode, and Shelley Duvall cannot act." 

    Lisa jumped into the fray, "Nothing's more obnoxious than a guy critiquing a female performance. What do you know of acting Travis?"

    Travis in his most condescending tone sounding like a cardiologist proclaiming a diagnosis, "Kubrick only cast her because of that helpless look in her eyes. She was skilled at looking terrified - that's all."

     Fed up, Lisa threw a rhetorical wrench at them, "Besides, Kubrick is the most overrated director of all time anyway."

    They both snickered with wry amusement.

    Lisa continued, "All of his movies are about male obsessions. Women are pretty much absent."

    Travis jumped in, "My point exactly. Shelley Duvall has nothing to do but look terrified in The Shining. That sums up Kubrick's view of women."

    As per usual, the discussion gave Monroe a chance to deliver a rant, "I don't disagree with you Lisa. Most of his movies are fixated on men. Kubrick movies are a rite of passage. The pointlessness of war and bureaucracy in Paths of Glory and Dr. Strangelove. Spartacus and Lolita have their moments, but they're minor. 2001 expanded the possibilities of cinema, A Clockwork Orange made screen violence electric, disturbing, and thought provoking. Barry Lyndon is a beautiful, haunting film. The Shining is a masterpiece of modern horror. We're obsessed with his movies for reasons that are difficult to articulate, but they hit something primal within us."

    With a fierce look in her eyes indicating she was about to strangle Monroe, "You're full of shit. So full of shit."

    Monroe cackled, "You know I'm right."

    Lisa demurred, "Nope. You do know it was a 15-year-old girl who decoded 2001, way before all those male critics jumped in with their own interpretations. Look, his films provide insights into the male psychology as you just went to great lengths to point out. They're all about self-destruction. My takeaway from Kubrick: If the patriarchy isn't shattered like right now, before the year 2000 at least, humanity is doomed."

    Travis droned on about the humanistic messages embedded in Kubrick movies and I tuned out. When Full Metal Jacket came out a year later, I thought it paradoxically confirmed both Lisa and Monroe's points. The film acted as a warped recruiting tool for the Marine Corps, perhaps even more successful than Top Gun in the war propaganda department. 

                            *                    *                    *

    Robby had decided to go with the Power Rangers video. On our way out there was clerk, a dude, naturally, droning on about Kubrick and what a loss it was for cinema. I got the sentiment, but his need to display expertise was grating - and predictable. That’s it, one day people are wondering what your next project will be, the next you shuffle off the mortal coil, and the trajectory of conversations change. Stanley Kubrick was dead.