When I was a teenager in the suburbs of Houston, there were three people who, more than anyone else (except my parents, who I’m excluding from this list), influenced the development of my taste in movies:
- Jeff Millar, the long-time movie critic and columnist for the Houston Chronicle (and the guy who writes “Tank McNamara“). The HouChron hasn’t had a better critic since he retired; Mr. Millar, if you’re out there somewhere, I hope you’re having a wonderful life.
- the late Gene Siskel.
- and Roger Ebert.
This was in the days long before the Internet. Actually, it was mostly in the days before I had a personal computer. My exposure to Rog and Gene was from “Sneak Previews” on our local PBS station (and, later on, “At the Movies” in syndication).
This was also in the days before home video changed everything. We had VHS tapes, but access to foreign and obscure stuff was iffy; that kind of thing wasn’t well stocked in our local video stores, and NetFlix didn’t exist yet. Rog and Gene were pretty good about including those movies on their show (and my mother used to gripe every time they did) but the art film theaters in Houston were a good drive away.