Hey, Rog—can we call you Rog?—well then, Lord Ebert, might we humbly inquire, with the utmost respect due someone of your immense status, vast experience and encyclopedic knowledge, sir:
Where the hell are you? And wherever the hell it is, why the hell isn't it here?
The sixth annual CineVegas Film Festival barrels on through Saturday, and as the de facto dean of American film critics, this is where you should be. Not prepping your weekly review show with that frat-boy Gene Siskel-never-be, Richard Roper.
Your bespectacled, jowly-owly puss is the Good Moviegoing Seal of Approval, your encouraging words the critic's kiss—so how about planting a big, sloppy, wet one on us?
Forgive our immodesty, but we deserve it. Sure, we absorbed a gratuitous pounding in front of America at the hands of The New York Times, and we're a mite sensitive right now. But no one in this city is fishing for a mercy visit or a pity plug.
We have something genuine to offer here, Rog.
No, we don't have the buzziest film this season, Fahrenheit 9/11, like Cannes. Nor that Redford guy. Nor the cachet of DeNiro's Tribeca Film Festival.
But we've got a slate of films that would certainly come close to sating your insatiable appetite for offbeat cinema. Peruse our schedule if you doubt it. And—now we hate to resort to guilt, Rog, but you've forced us—how can you afford to snub us when so many cine-luminaries are CineVegas-bound? You think you know something that Oscar winners Sean Penn and Robert Duvall and Holly Hunter don't know? David Lynch? Easy Rider icon Dennis Hopper, chairman of the CineVegas committee?
Is it because you'd have to dash through a casino to screen the films, Rog? Do you find that undignified?
Tough shit, Rog. We're proud of our culture, the powerful engine of our economy—and our legend.
And by the way, Rog, outside of cinematic hot spots like New York and LA and Chicago, can you think of a single American city that has made more memorable appearances in movies through the decades than Las Vegas? From Sean Connery's (stuntman's) daredevil driving in Diamonds Are Forever to Nicolas Cage's Oscar-rewarded attempted suicide by booze and Elisabeth Shue in Leaving Las Vegas, we're owners of a proud, packed film heritage.
We deserve your attention.
We know you're busy, Rog. You've even got your very own festival, the Rog—pardon us, Roger—Ebert Overlooked Film Festival.
We assume that refers to overlooked films.
But should you get around to discovering overlooked film festivals, there's a diamond in this desert. Come on, you don't want us to sic snarlin' Jimmy Caan on your ass, do you?
Sincerely,
Steve Bornfeld