An Open Letter to Roger Ebert on the Subject of Harold and Maude
Tuesday, March 30, 2010 at 01:30PM I wrote this yesterday, and wasn't planning on posting it — I wrote it too quickly, it was too defensive, too sad and too weird — until just now when I saw this, linked to by Mr. Ebert himself on his Twitter feed. Which puts everything in an entirely different light.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I watched Harold and Maude for the second time on Sunday night. The first time was at this year's Sundance Film Festival, where a friend who follows us both on Twitter told me you and I saw a lot of films together, though I don't know you and you don't know me.
Harold and Maude is the perfect film for someone like me, someone who loves life so unbearably much, breathlessly, who finds every moment unbelievably precious, so much so that the prospect of ever leaving this life is too terrifying to even think about. Someone who grasps tightly to it with both hands and fear of it slipping away before I'm ready.
Maude was a kindred spirit I'd been seeking for a long time, and didn't even know it.
After I see a movie, I'll sometimes visit the internet to see what they had to say about it. Whether anyone has managed to dig up any secrets about the film (Suzanne Somers made a cameo that ended up on the cutting room floor) or can make connections for me I wouldn't have otherwise made (writer Colin Higgins also co-wrote Nine to Five).
In my most recent search for idiosyncratic facts, I came across your review of the movie from 1972, in which you wrote the following:
And so what we get, finally, is a movie of attitudes. Harold is death, Maude life, and they manage to make the two seem so similar that life's hardly worth the extra bother.
This review: like a hand brushing a piece of lint off one's shoulder. Like sweeping the emotion of the thrill of living into the wastepaper basket with the back of the hand.
I read this, and I furrowed my brow. So Roger Ebert doesn't like Harold and Maude. Huh.
Years down the road from watching "At The Movies" on Sunday mornings as a kid, you popped back into my life. Your blog, the recent Esquire article, your Twitter feed. You're suddenly everywhere: the impressively omnipresent Roger Ebert. I know it's not fair to contend you know someone you've never met based on what they write, but based on what I have read, based on what little I do know about you now, I couldn't help but wonder: how could Roger Ebert not like Harold and Maude? And if he were to see it again, would he think of this film differently now, after all that he's been through?
That's why I'm writing this letter. I almost have to know: have you ever gone back to visit Harold and Maude again in that little railroad car filled with daisies and oat straw tea and ginger pie? Did you find something different than you were looking for the first time around in the scene with the "glorious birds"? I know life is short; I know you have many, many films yet to see. (Hot Tub Time Machine does sound fun, actually.) But what might it be like to look at something again with the eyes you have now?
I couldn't help but wonder: is present tense always the same as past? Or do we get a whole new shot at an opinion once we come around to the future?
Play as well as you can,
Zan
"Team Maude"
© Zan McQuade. All rights reserved.
Reader Comments (3)
In your open letter to Roger Ebert, you describe yourself as "someone who loves life so unbearably much, breathlessly, who finds every moment unbelievably precious...." If this is true, I am happy for you, and perhaps a little envious. But then again, I'm not. Anyone unbearably in love with every moment of life cannot distinguish highs from lows, greatness from trivia, beauty from kitsch. Roger Ebert is a critic. That means he does his best to distinguish one thing from another, which is what he did with Harold and Maud.
Barry - Very good point. Though I hope that I have some ability of distinction. I certainly have highs and lows; when I say every moment is precious, I mean the low points are precious too because they help shape the high points. But you've pretty much hit the nail on the head as to why I could never be a critic myself: I would argue that trivia is greatness in the grand scheme of things because it's all part of the one life we get. So don't send me out to review Hot Tub Time Machine just yet (Ebert gave it one thumb up!).
I think what I was trying to say here was not that Roger Ebert *has* to like Harold and Maude, but that I was curious about how his own life experiences in the past few years may have changed (if at all) his perception of a movie that, at its core, is all about the preciousness of life. But, once again, the point may have gotten a bit swallowed up by all of my hyperbolic LIFE IS GREAT campaigning... lesson learned!
I hope he replies. Good luck! Although I have to say that, to me, his awesomeness is not diminished by the fact that we frequently disagree about movies. I still find his columns illuminating.