Review: Life Itself

City Paper grade: B+

Although Roger Ebert was still undergoing treatment for cancer when Steve James began filming his documentary on the great film critic, Life Itself was transformed into a memorial by Ebert’s death in April 2013. But James’ film is less like a eulogy than a wake, a commemoration of his living spirit rather than a meditation on his loss.

James owes at least a chunk of his career to the way Ebert and Gene Siskel took up the cause of his documentary, Hoop Dreams, on their TV show, but Life Itself isn’t hagiography. Ebert went into the hospital shortly after James began to film, but rather than cutting off contact, Ebert encouraged him to keep the cameras rolling; at times, he motions James closer, or scribbles on the pad he used after he lost the ability to speak the equivalent of “Make sure you get this.” Perhaps he suspected it would be James’ only chance to capture him, or maybe he knew it would be riveting on screen.

Ebert’s absence from much of the filming removes the push-pull quality between filmmaker and subject that enlivens James’ best work, especially 2002’s Stevie. The movie’s most engaging sections challenge the myths that have grown ever-larger since Ebert’s passing, including one exploring his contentious relationship with his late TV partner. Rather than diminishing either, the testimony from their respective widows enlarges them both, filling in the bodies attached to their iconic thumbs.

For Ebert, movies were inextricable from life; no matter what his subject, he was always, on some level, writing about himself. That quality percolates through Life Itself, a sense that whether it’s talking about his friendship with Werner Herzog or his struggle with alcoholism, one is never far from the other. It’s a loving portrait, but not blindly so, and, perhaps most importantly, a movie Ebert himself would surely have embraced. Opens at Ritz Five on Fri., July 4.