Female pilots who served in World War II are fighting for the right to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery. The women lobbied for decades for the right that was granted in 2002 and revoked in 2015, according to The Military Times. "It was their living wish, and they expressed that wish, and so if they were here, they would be devastated to know that it wasn't going to be honored," said former WWII pilot Bernice "Bee" Falk Haydu, according to NBC Los Angeles. The United States began training women to fly military aircrafts in 1942 following a pilot shortage, reports NPR. The...
- 3/21/2016
- by Tiare Dunlap, @tiaredunlap
- PEOPLE.com
Title: Life Itself Magnolia Pictures Reviewed for Shockya by Harvey Karten. Data-based on Rotten Tomatoes Grade: A- Director: Steve James Cast: Roger Ebert, Chaz Ebert, Raven Evans, Ava Du Vernay, Ramin Bahrani, Richard Corliss, Nancy De Los Santos, Bruce Elliot, Thea Flaum, Josh Golden, Werner Herzog, Marlene Iglitzen, Donna Lapietra, Rick Kogan, John McHugh, Errol Morris, Howie Movshovitz, Gregory Nava, William Nack, Jonathan Rosenbaum, Martin Scorsese, A.O. Scott, Roger Simon Screened at: Review 2, NYC, 6/18/14 Opens: July 4, 2014 Of all recognizable film critics, Roger Ebert was not the deepest thinker, the hippest writer, the best looking, or the one most willing to upset every consensus of opinion. For [ Read More ]
The post Life Itself Movie Review appeared first on Shockya.com.
The post Life Itself Movie Review appeared first on Shockya.com.
- 6/23/2014
- by Harvey Karten
- ShockYa
On Thursday morning, February 28, I found CNN featuring a continuous shot of a helicopter. The network cut between a close-up and a distant dot. It was Benedict, flying from the Vatican City. This was extraordinary attention for an ordinary cardinal, because as Benedict told the throng awaiting him, "I am no longer Pope." I am not a scholar of Catholic history, but I believe we were witnessing the first time the Papal throne was vacant while an elected Pope was alive.
"This no one can deny," wise Sister Rosanne told us during the 8 am theology class that began every day at St. Mary's Grade School. "The Church is the oldest continuously functioning institution in human history, and the Popes go back in an unbroken chain to St. Peter's blessing at the hand of Jesus." That was one reason people of all faiths or none desired an audience with the Pope.
"This no one can deny," wise Sister Rosanne told us during the 8 am theology class that began every day at St. Mary's Grade School. "The Church is the oldest continuously functioning institution in human history, and the Popes go back in an unbroken chain to St. Peter's blessing at the hand of Jesus." That was one reason people of all faiths or none desired an audience with the Pope.
- 5/14/2013
- by Roger Ebert
- blogs.suntimes.com/ebert
On Thursday morning, February 28, I found CNN featuring a continuous shot of a helicopter. The network cut between a close-up and a distant dot. It was Benedict, flying from the Vatican City. This was extraordinary attention for an ordinary cardinal, because as Benedict told the throng awaiting him, "I am no longer Pope." I am not a scholar of Catholic history, but I believe we were witnessing the first time the Papal throne was vacant while an elected Pope was alive.
"This no one can deny," wise Sister Rosanne told us during the 8 am theology class that began every day at St. Mary's Grade School. "The Church is the oldest continuously functioning institution in human history, and the Popes go back in an unbroken chain to St. Peter's blessing at the hand of Jesus." That was one reason people of all faiths or none desired an audience with the Pope.
"This no one can deny," wise Sister Rosanne told us during the 8 am theology class that began every day at St. Mary's Grade School. "The Church is the oldest continuously functioning institution in human history, and the Popes go back in an unbroken chain to St. Peter's blessing at the hand of Jesus." That was one reason people of all faiths or none desired an audience with the Pope.
- 3/4/2013
- by Roger Ebert
- blogs.suntimes.com/ebert
The first Chicago bar I drank in was the Old Town Ale House. That bar was destroyed by fire in the 1960s, the customers hosed off, and the Ale House moved directly across the street to its present location, where it has been named Chicago's Best Dive Bar by the Chicago Tribune.
I was taken to the Ale House by Tom Devries, my fellow college editor from the Roosevelt Torch. It was early on a snowy Sunday afternoon. I remember us walking down to Barbara's Bookstore to get our copies of the legendary New York Herald-Tribune Sunday edition. Pogo. Judith Crist. Tom Wolfe. Jimmy Breslin. I remember peanut shells on the floor and a projector grinding through 16mm prints of Charlie Chaplin shorts. I remember my first taste of dark Löwenbräu beer. The Ale House was cool even then.
I returned to the North Avenue drinking scene on New Year's Eve...
I was taken to the Ale House by Tom Devries, my fellow college editor from the Roosevelt Torch. It was early on a snowy Sunday afternoon. I remember us walking down to Barbara's Bookstore to get our copies of the legendary New York Herald-Tribune Sunday edition. Pogo. Judith Crist. Tom Wolfe. Jimmy Breslin. I remember peanut shells on the floor and a projector grinding through 16mm prints of Charlie Chaplin shorts. I remember my first taste of dark Löwenbräu beer. The Ale House was cool even then.
I returned to the North Avenue drinking scene on New Year's Eve...
- 2/18/2013
- by Roger Ebert
- blogs.suntimes.com/ebert
The first Chicago bar I drank in was the Old Town Ale House. That bar was destroyed by fire in the 1960s, and the Ale House moved directly across the street to its present location, where it has been named Chicago's Best Dive Bar--by the Chicago Triune, I think.
I returned to the North Avenue drinking scene on New Year's Eve 1966, opening night of the legendary O'Rourke's, two blocks directly west. Its last call was 2 a.m. The Ale House had a 4 a.m. license, so many of us walked down the street to continue.
The bar was owned by Name and her husband Art Klug, who really did look like Paul Newman. Art was a movie fan so obsessed it was slightly alarming. The Ale House ambiance made an ideal outpost for Bruce Elliott, the left wing unemployed-by-choice gadfly and neighborhood social spy. Art died. Then Name grew ill,...
I returned to the North Avenue drinking scene on New Year's Eve 1966, opening night of the legendary O'Rourke's, two blocks directly west. Its last call was 2 a.m. The Ale House had a 4 a.m. license, so many of us walked down the street to continue.
The bar was owned by Name and her husband Art Klug, who really did look like Paul Newman. Art was a movie fan so obsessed it was slightly alarming. The Ale House ambiance made an ideal outpost for Bruce Elliott, the left wing unemployed-by-choice gadfly and neighborhood social spy. Art died. Then Name grew ill,...
- 2/6/2013
- by Roger Ebert
- blogs.suntimes.com/ebert
I want to tell you about a woman named Betty Brandenburg. You've not heard of her, but her passing must not go unremarked. I've written many times about the Conference on World Affairs at the University of Colorado at Boulder. She made it run. She dealt with the most impossible man in Colorado. She was a young widow who raised two children on her own. I met her the first year I went to Boulder, in 1969, and saw her the last time a few years ago at one of the annual Wednesday night dinners our little group held at the Red Lion Inn.
Are you wondering why I'm telling you this? Is this only something personal with me? Why am I involving you? Maybe it's because of a piece I wrote not long ago, about when we die the most important thing we leave behind is our memory, and when those who remember us die,...
Are you wondering why I'm telling you this? Is this only something personal with me? Why am I involving you? Maybe it's because of a piece I wrote not long ago, about when we die the most important thing we leave behind is our memory, and when those who remember us die,...
- 5/9/2012
- by Roger Ebert
- blogs.suntimes.com/ebert
My new voice belongs to Edward Herrmann. He has allowed me to use it for 448 pages. The actor has recorded the audiobook version of my memoir, Life Itself, and my author's copies arrived a few days ago.
Listening to it, I discovered for the first time a benefit from losing my own speaking voice: If I could still speak, I suppose I would probably have recorded it myself, and I wouldn't have been able to do that anywhere as near as well as Herrmann does.
My editor, Mitch Hoffman, suggested a few readers he was confident would do a good job. Herrmann's name leaped up from his email.
I've always admired his acting, and there is a little newspaperman in his lineage: He played William Randolph Hearst in Bogdanovich's "The Cat's Meow." If my voice is performed by the actor who played Hearst, doesn't that make me only two degrees of separation from Orson Welles?...
Listening to it, I discovered for the first time a benefit from losing my own speaking voice: If I could still speak, I suppose I would probably have recorded it myself, and I wouldn't have been able to do that anywhere as near as well as Herrmann does.
My editor, Mitch Hoffman, suggested a few readers he was confident would do a good job. Herrmann's name leaped up from his email.
I've always admired his acting, and there is a little newspaperman in his lineage: He played William Randolph Hearst in Bogdanovich's "The Cat's Meow." If my voice is performed by the actor who played Hearst, doesn't that make me only two degrees of separation from Orson Welles?...
- 8/28/2011
- by Roger Ebert
- blogs.suntimes.com/ebert
When I met Morgan Spurlock for an interview to discuss his latest film, it certainly happened in a Hyatt. Pom Wonderful bottles were placed neatly on the table, and the director himself was sporting some Merells. Most importantly, Spurlock was wearing The Suit, as seen in the film. Soon to be seen in his visual appearances, it subjects him to the same literal branding of a Nascar vehicle.
Previously, Morgan Spurlock went up against the McDonald’s menu for his smash documentary, Super Size Me. His newest challenge, with his funding process shown step-by-step in his new film, is product placement. Sponsored 100% by other companies, The Greatest Movie Ever Sold shows how aggressively blatant advertising has infiltrated the content of popular media, while giving moviegoers a rare look into the science behind such a billion dollar business.
In a roundtable interview, I discussed with Spurlock the meaning behind his unique idea,...
Previously, Morgan Spurlock went up against the McDonald’s menu for his smash documentary, Super Size Me. His newest challenge, with his funding process shown step-by-step in his new film, is product placement. Sponsored 100% by other companies, The Greatest Movie Ever Sold shows how aggressively blatant advertising has infiltrated the content of popular media, while giving moviegoers a rare look into the science behind such a billion dollar business.
In a roundtable interview, I discussed with Spurlock the meaning behind his unique idea,...
- 4/21/2011
- by Nick Allen
- The Scorecard Review
Until the day he died, I always called him "Daddy." He was Walter Harry Ebert, born in Urbana in 1902 of parents who had emmigrated from Germany. His father, Joseph, was a machinist working for the Peoria & Eastern Railway, known as the Big Four. Daddy would take me out to the Roundhouse on the north side of town to watch the big turntables turning steam engines around. In our kitchen, he always used a knife "your grandfather made from a single piece of steel."
I never met my grandparents, and that knife is the only thing of theirs I own. Once when I was visiting my parents' graves, I wandered over to my grandparents' graves, where we'd often left flowers on Memorial Day. I realized consciously for the first time, although I must have been told, that my grandfather was named Joseph. My middle name.
What have I inherited from those...
I never met my grandparents, and that knife is the only thing of theirs I own. Once when I was visiting my parents' graves, I wandered over to my grandparents' graves, where we'd often left flowers on Memorial Day. I realized consciously for the first time, although I must have been told, that my grandfather was named Joseph. My middle name.
What have I inherited from those...
- 3/24/2010
- by Roger Ebert
- blogs.suntimes.com/ebert
I met John McHugh in the autumn of 1966, when I was a cub reporter on the Sun-Times and he was a rewrite man, two years my senior, on the Chicago Daily News. We are still best friends. He worked the overnight shift, and among his duties was taking calls from readers. After midnight, they wanted to settle bets. "And what do you say?" McHugh would ask. He would listen, and then reply, "You're 100% correct. Put the other guy on." Pause. "And what do you say?" Pause. "You're 100% correct." If he was asked for his name, he said, "John T. Greatest, spelled with three Ts."
One night in autumn 1969 we found ourselves in the Old Town Gate, three blocks from our customary posts at O'Rourke's Pub. "I had my first job in Chicago here," he reminisced. "I invented the Roquefort Burger. Somebody ordered a cheeseburger and I, being a dumb Mick,...
One night in autumn 1969 we found ourselves in the Old Town Gate, three blocks from our customary posts at O'Rourke's Pub. "I had my first job in Chicago here," he reminisced. "I invented the Roquefort Burger. Somebody ordered a cheeseburger and I, being a dumb Mick,...
- 6/6/2009
- by Roger Ebert
- blogs.suntimes.com/ebert
One of my editors at the Sun-Times once asked me, "Roger, is it true that they used to let reporters smoke at their desks?" This wasn't asked yesterday; it must have been ten years ago. I realized then, although I'm only writing about it now, that a lifestyle had disappeared. When I entered the business in the autumn of my 16th year, newspapering seemed the most romantic and exciting thing I could possibly do with my life. "But honey," my mom said, "they don't pay them anything." Who cared? It involved knowing what was going on before anyone else did, and putting my byline on top of a story telling it to the world. "Roger Ebert" is only a name. "By Roger Ebert" are the three most magical words in the language, drawing my eye the same way a bulls-eye attracts an arrow.
In the way some kids might be awed by a youth gang,...
In the way some kids might be awed by a youth gang,...
- 4/6/2009
- by Roger Ebert
- blogs.suntimes.com/ebert
That niche of the horror genre focusing on inner-city terrors has been rife with real stinkers, to say the least. Roll on up to Blockbuster, where copies of Vampiyaz and Zombiez kick back in lounge chairs on the bottom of the video shelf deservedly collecting dust, and you’ll see what I mean. Leave it to Snoop Dogg to clean house and make amends for 2001’s Bones with Hood Of Horror, a vigorous and droll triumvirate of gore-drenched urban morality tales linked by a supernatural figure known as the Hound of Hell (played by you know who). Rather than attempt to slip Snoop into a new, untried skin à la Bones, Hood embraces his pop-culture personality without reserve, “Snoop speak” and all—but that’s just an added bizzle, er, bonus to what makes the film work. It actually has a certain level of smarts going for it, along with...
- 3/29/2009
- Fangoria
In Venice there is a small bridge leading over a side canal. Halfway up the steps crossing this bridge there is a landing, and a little cafe has found its perch there. In front of this cafe there is one table with two chairs. If you chose the chair with its back to the cafe, you can overlook the steps you climbed and also the steps leading toward you from the canal path, or rivetta, ahead of you. This is a quiet neighborhood crossroads, a good place to sit with a cup of cappuccino and the newspaper you got from the newsstand behind Piazza San Marco.
Of course you must have a newspaper, a book, a sketchpad--anything that seems to absorb you. If you are simply sitting there, you will appear to be a Lonely Person and people will look away from you. If you seem preoccupied, you can observe them more closely.
Of course you must have a newspaper, a book, a sketchpad--anything that seems to absorb you. If you are simply sitting there, you will appear to be a Lonely Person and people will look away from you. If you seem preoccupied, you can observe them more closely.
- 1/13/2009
- by Roger Ebert
- blogs.suntimes.com/ebert
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