In the sprawling, chaotic archive of film criticism, few figures cast a longer shadow than Roger Ebert. For decades, he was the avuncular, thumbs-up oracle from the balcony, a man who could dissect the moral philosophy of Ingmar Bergman in one paragraph and defend the visceral craft of a Schwarzenegger action flick in the next. He possessed a rare gift: the ability to judge a film not for what it wasn't, but for what it intended to be.
He was fascinated by the film's structure, which he called "spite-driven." There is no inciting incident of love or ambition. The plot is propelled by pure, irrational resentment. The brothers don’t want to succeed; they want the other to fail. They don’t want a job; they want to prevent their rival (the excellent Adam Scott) from having a job. This is not Aristotelian drama. It is Beckett by way of Looney Tunes . roger ebert step brothers
In the end, Roger Ebert’s review of Step Brothers is not really about the movie. It is a manifesto about the purpose of criticism. It is an argument that a fart joke, executed with the precision of a Swiss watch and the commitment of a Shakespearean tragedy, is just as worthy of analysis as a Bergman close-up. In the sprawling, chaotic archive of film criticism,