Roger Ebert has one of the most famous body parts of all time: Achilles' heel, Helen of Troy's face, St. John the Baptist's head, Roger Ebert's thumb. While the Fonz may have popularized the wagging "aaaay" thumbs-up, Ebert really brought this gesture to the mainstream.
OK, so that might not be true, but it certainly feels like it is. While the thumbs up has always been a part of the human experience — ancient Romans voting on the outcome of gladiator matches, hitchhikers trying to grab rides, fighter pilots confirming take off — Ebert's thumb is the first to come to mind when the topic is discussed.
Starting in 1975, Ebert appeared, along with his longtime friend and rival, the late Gene Siskel, on a weekly TV show called "Sneak Previews," and then, from 1982 onward, "Siskel & Ebert & the Movies" (aka "At the Movies"), where he and Siskel argued about new releases. They rated each film with a number of thumbs: two up for a great film, two down for a real clunker, etc. Simple. Perfect. Beautiful.
The beauty of the thumbs up comes from its understated power. Something like a dozen muscles contribute to one swift motion that says it all: "Yes!" "Awesome!" "Absolutely!" "OK!"
While fingers can say many things — the pointer for accusing, the middle for telling off, all five for greetings and goodbyes — only the thumbs up can be so wholly positive and optimistic. The thumbs up is always genuine; try jabbing the sky with that little opposable guy with any hint of irony.
Aesthetically, the thumb suffers from being, similar to a little teapot, both short and stout. Despite the basic form, no two pairs of thumbs are exactly alike: Some people's curve toward their wrists, known as hitchhiker's thumb, while others are wide and flat toward the top, a condition known as Brachydactyly type D (toe thumbs, for the layman). No matter what sort of thumb one possesses, the thumbs up is a unifying experience to be shared by all; the thumbs up is universal, understood and spoken by everybody.
It's lucky for Roger Ebert, then, that he's associated with such a useful gesture. Over the past few years, Ebert has undergone a tough battle with cancer that's left him unable to speak. Despite his lack of words, he's never lost his ability to flip up his fifth finger to give an insightful opinion.
Roger Ebert is a longtime hero of mine (and one of the inspirations for "Slings and Arrows"), with or without his famous thumbs. Since a Feb. 16 piece in Esquire magazine profiling Ebert and his adjustment to his post-cancer life, everyone has been coming out of the woodwork to praise and honor him. I'd like to do this as well, but it's been done so much lately it would just seem trite. What no one else has done yet, however, is honor his thumbs. This isn't meant to belittle the man, his career, his vast body of work or his recent increase in popularity; this is simply to say, "Wow, those are some fine thumbs you've got there, Mr. Ebert."
Thumbs up and Roger Ebert: They go together like cookies and cream, peanut butter and jelly, or Sudoku and the Daily. The former is the best thing you can do with your hand (short of a high five at least), and the latter is the best thing to happen to criticism since Pauline Kael (not to mention a lot kinder).
The thumbs up is ultimately what separates humans from animals. It's the opposable thumb being used to its fullest potential, and it's absolutely perfect. Paired with Roger Ebert, the two are a Voltron of awesomeness that simply can't be beat.
Roger Ebert's thumbs up: five out of five stars.
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Mitchell Geller is a junior majoring in psychology and English. He can be reached at Mitchell.Geller@tufts.edu.
