In his nearly 50 years as film critic for the Chicago Sun-Times, Roger Ebert had a reputation for being lucid, passionate and, when a movie rubbed him the wrong way, angry. As seen in his weekly sparring sessions with Gene Siskel of the Chicago Tribune on their syndicated talk show (which had several titles but is probably best known as "At the Movies"), Ebert was able to unleash the withering film that was consuming him time and/or insulted his intelligence. He was notorious for his hatred of the 1980s slasher film series, as well as his "How could they do this to Jennifer Jason Leigh" one-star pan of Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Filmmakers were occasionally stung enough by his anger that they named characters after him who were snobbish, mean, or downright monstrous. (Eborsisk in "The Willow," for example, was a hideous amalgam of Ebert and Siskel.)

Ebert, of course, is hardly alone in this. Any critic whose job requires them to watch over 200 films each year is going to need to blow off steam every now and then. As a reader, these reviews can be cathartic when you agree with the bad mood, or infuriating if you land on the other end of the spectrum. I admire Ebert as a writer and thinker, but I think he did his craft a terrible disservice when he not only rejected David Lynch's Blue Velvet as "unworthy" art, but also accused the director of taking emotional liberties with his actors, especially Isabella Rossellini. Even though the film absolutely puts Rossellini through the wringer, Ebert had no right to make such an accusation. How could he know what was going on in Lynch's or Rossellini's mind? Sticking to his guns after interviewing Lynch at the New York Film Festival made him look even more wrong. (Ebert is also responsible for critical illness, it's Rotten Tomatoesbut let's take a serious offense at the same time.)

However, this is how criticism works. When you've done it long enough, there are movies that will draw that resentment out of you and make you go against the grain of conventional wisdom. When you disagree, it's awkward. When you agree, you rejoice. There are times when you walk out of a critically-acclaimed film and wonder if the rest of the world is kidding you, so reading a review that gives voice to your bemused astonishment is like a tall drink of ice water in the desert.

Here's a time when Ebert's contrary viewpoint slaked my own vituperative thirst.

When The Usual Suspects hit US theaters on August 16, 1995, it was showered with critical acclaim. The timing of its release was crucial. Critics had just endured a summer filled with the usual assortment of low-aim mainstream entertainment, and so were grateful for a well-thrown thriller that made them think. Most reviewers singled out the performances while expressing amusement or delighted bewilderment trick at the end of the movie.

Ebert, however, was not in the least bit thrilled. In his one and a half star reviewhe noted that his displeasure was heightened upon a second viewing of the film, which he found to be something of an empty magic trick. He complained that the plot didn't quite come together and ended up throwing up his hands, writing, "As far as I understand, I don't care."

I'd rather be enthralled by the motivation than by the manipulation,” Ebert said, which continues to be my problem with the film as well. This isn't about the characters being unlikable or hard to root for. The great film noirs of the 1940s and 50s are lousy with low-level lunatics as protagonists. It's about the way the story is told from the perspective of Kevin Spacey's Verbal Kint, whose name might as well have been Unreliable Narrator, and how the film's characters, no matter how well acted, are decidedly one-dimensional.

Ebert correctly renders Christopher McQuarrie's Oscar-winning screenplay as more of an exercise than a film. The critic drove the final nail in the coffin with the last sentence of his review: "To the extent that you will want to see this film, it will be because of the surprise, and so I will say no more, except to say that the 'solution,' when come, it solves little - unless there really is little to solve, which is also a possibility."