This is my second year of Ebertfest as it is only my second year on campus. There is always something about sitting in front of the screen surrounded by people at Ebertfest. There is an atmosphere of pure adoration and admiration of what is being projected. There is not a peep during the show. Everyone remains seated. No one has gets up to use the restroom, there is no one checking their phone. You are surrounded by people who love film. And that is magic in itself.

I had already seen Ida, because as a fanatic, I watch all Oscar nominated movies before the awards are presented. But this was the only showing that I could make this week. Ida mesmerized, shocked, disgusted, and amazed all who watched it. A black and white masterpiece, reminiscent of a mixed Bergman-Truffaut aesthetic, this film takes the topic of religion and boils it down to one simple question: does it matter? With a lengthy response of, it doesn’t. It seems to be suggesting that all that matters is a devotion to a moral code, a devotion to morality, and a desire to be a better person.

In one of the most intense suicide scenes I have ever been exposed to, Anna’s aunt, Wanda kills herself after finding out that her son had been killed by the people that were harboring him. It seems that her reason for having loose morals has been shattered and the reality of her past has come to haunt her. Where Anna, destroys the thought of her past, rather sticking to the moral code that has served her well throughout the years.

It is a very silent movie. There is no filler noise, and no soundtrack of sorts. As well as it does not have any loud imagery or colors (as it is black and white). The composition never succeeds in distracting from the darkness of the narrative and leaves audiences stunned in admitting how much emotion can be felt from such a bland movie.

One of the best films of all time. And Roger knew it.

Goodfellas is possibly Martin Scorsese’s best film; it draws you in with a hook from the very beginning and doesn’t seem to let you go till the very end. With the 1st pan, the viewer wants a gun. With the second, he wants to go and steal a car. You get the point. As Ebert highlights, “unearned privilege” is at the center of this movie, and we all want a piece of it. Scorsese seems to glorify everything about a gangster’s life; from the drugs, to the money, to the women, etc. It is a signature move of his. He glorifies what society tends to deem as the lowest of the low and continues to rectify and redeem that glorification towards the end of his narratives. It is hard not to get sucked in and want to live Henry’s life when the movie is known for one of the best tracking shots of all time. Even his style reflects the utmost desire to embed the viewer into a POV type of experience.

Ebert talks about how the shots in the beginning of the movie, when Henry seems to enter the gangster life, are expansive and spacious in order to reflect the effect that the “life” has on Henry. It opens up a whole new world for him. He has whatever he needs. But most importantly he has dignity and respect. Towards the end of the film, when drugs and paranoia take over, both those things fly out the window. With them, so does the shooting style. Every shot becomes claustrophobic and limited. The camera seems to be choking Henry and, by proxy, the viewer. So we, as viewers, take the full ride with Henry. The upswing of entering the life and enjoying all its luxuries down to the pettiness of drug induced paranoia and ultimate betrayal of the mafia.

Scorsese has his signature type of film. His style has continued into today with films like The Wolf of Wallstreet. But he hasn’t reached heights like Goodfellas since the film came out, when considering first-person crime narratives. I guess an epic can never be repeated.