The movie Roger Ebert refused to give a star rating: “I detested every moronic minute of it”
There’s no denying that film criticism and analysis have evolved in the 21st century, and not necessarily for the better. Anyone with an internet connection and an opinion is now free to pass judgment on any movie they want on a myriad of different platforms, which runs the risk of the withering put-downs regularly dished out by the likes of Roger Ebert becoming a lost art.
Reviews are arguably less important than ever in convincing an audience to check out the latest releases playing at their nearest cinema because the brand is now king. The best movies used to make the most money, as evidenced by Gone with the Wind, The Godfather, Jaws, Star Wars, and Jurassic Park, all spending time as the highest-grossing picture of all time, but that hasn’t been the case for a while.
Still, as morbid as it sounds and as unfortunate as it probably is for any filmmakers brave enough to wade through the consensus to see the overall reception of their latest work, it’s always more fun to read – and write – a negative review than a glowing one. Few were more skilled at eviscerating a terrible movie than Ebert, and there was the occasional flick he hated so much he wouldn’t even give it a star rating.
It was a status bestowed upon an infinitesimally small number of titles, relative to how many he reviewed throughout his career, with 1994’s French comedy Un Indien dans la Ville – known as Little Indian, Big City for its international release – receiving both barrels from the legendary critic.
The plot follows a high-flying stockbroker who wants to divorce his wife and marry another woman, causing him to travel to the Amazon village she’s been living in to convince her to sign the divorce papers. Once there, he discovers he has a secret 13-year-old son who’s been raised as a member of the local tribe, where hijinks were presumably supposed to ensue once they went back home. Spoiler: they do not.
“Little Indian, Big City is one of the worst movies ever made,” his review began, clearly not interested in beating around the bush. “I detested every moronic minute of it. Through a stroke of good luck, the entire third reel of the film was missing the day I saw it. I went back to the screening room two days later to view the missing reel. It was as bad as the rest, but nothing could have saved this film.”
Ebert even baited his readers into not seeing it, invoking the name of a modern classic that was playing in United States cinemas at the same time. “There is a movie called Fargo playing right now. It is a masterpiece. Go see it,” he insisted. “If you, under any circumstances, see Little Indian, Big City, I will never let you read one of my reviews again.”
As has been the case for countless foreign-language features, Un Indien dans la Ville was given a Hollywood remake several years later, with Tim Allen and Martin Short starring in 1997’s Jungle 2 Jungle. Did Ebert think it was any better? In his own words: “Not a chance. This movie has not learned from the mistakes of others, and like a lemming, follows Little Indian over the cliff and into the sea.”
