Richard Roeper Blog

5 Questions with Richard Roeper

It started with a shot of an empty podium and a few rows of journalists and interested parties in a small room. I wasn’t sure if Tiger Woods or Barack Obama was going to show up and address the nation.

It ended with a son in the embrace of his mother, in the one indisputably genuine moment of the entire spectacle.

That had to be one of the strangest “press opportunities” I’ve ever seen.

At first looking uncomfortable (who wouldn’t be?) and speaking in a deliberate, measured tone before finding his stride, Tiger Woods faced a small group of journalists and friends in person–and a TV audience that no doubt numbered in the millions–and read from a prepared statement in which again apologized for his serial philandering and spoke of repairing his relationship with his wife, Elin.

Tiger’s mother was in attendance. Elin, was not in the room. Some of Tiger’s many, many, many critics jumped on this fact—but what was Elin supposed to do, show up and stand there like one of those political wives who shares the stage with her husband as he issues the obligatory mea culpa, eyes blinking rapidly and smile frozen on the face, thinking, “I didn’t sign up for this s—”?

At times appearing robotically committed to the script, Woods segued into a vow to remain committed to the good works of the Tiger Woods Foundation before returning to the real reason for the press conference.

“I’m embarrassed that I have put you in this position,” said Woods. “For all that I have done, I’m so sorry. I have a lot to atone for. But there’s one issue I really want to discuss. Some people have speculated that Elin somehow hurt or attacked me on Thanksgiving night…Elin never hit me that night or any other night. There has never been an incident of domestic violence in our marriage, ever. Elin has shown enormous grace and poise throughout this ordeal. Elin deserves praise, not blame…

“I was unfaithful. I had affairs. I cheated…I am the only person to blame..

“I was wrong. I was foolish. I don’t get to play by different rules.”

Of course, Tiger does get to play by different rules, at least in the world of instant, constant temptation-fulfillment. He is a superstar athlete in a culture that worships superstar athletes, and he has been given an all-access pass to all the riches and temptations the world can offer. He still does. He could divorce Elin and become the Playboy of the Western World, telling people if they don’t like his womanizing and his partying ways, they can go f— off. Of course he’d lose every last remaining endorsement, but as long as he’s not breaking the law, he can’t get kicked out of golf, can’t get booted off the planet like a “Survivor” contestant gone wild.

But that’s not what Tiger wants to do, not who he aspires to be, according to what he told us Friday morning. He’s going to try to be a better man, and we should wish him success in that quest. He spoke of his Buddhist faith and having lost his way.

And yet, for many post-speech analysts, it wasn’t enough. A writer for Gawker.com said the apology was “excruciating to watch…a string of cliches straight from a 12-step book.”

The terrific sportswriter Bill Simmons opined, “Everything about it seemed staged. Everything.”

Well, yes. That’s because it WAS staged.

I don’t know what people expected, or what would have been enough. What if Woods had invited everyone from Sports Illustrated to the Washington Post to TMZ.com to cover the event, and he had opened the floor to questions? Did we really expect this guy to stand there and engage in frank and open discussion about everything that happened last Thanksgiving? Was he supposed to go through the list of alleged mistresses and say, “That one, yes. That one, never met her. Ooooh that one–she was GREAT.”

Or maybe Woods was supposed to do a weepy sitdown with Oprah, complete with tears and blubbering confessions. Then what? Would the critics say, “All is forgiven,” or would they chastise Woods for going so public with his personal problems?

This is what happens when you’re arguably the most famous athlete in the world and you screw up, big-time. No matter what you do, on some level you just can’t win. And you have no one but yourself to blame.

A few hours after Woods’ speech, which played on a near-continuous loop on ESPN all day, came this press release:

“E! News…speaks exclusively with Tiger Woods’ former mistress Jamie Jungers about the golf legend’s apology this morning.”

Stay classy, Jamie.

Meanwhile, a porn star who claims to have had an affair with Woods called her own press conference, so she could weep and complain about how much Tiger hurt her feelings.

One could sense the needle on the nation’s Sympathy Meter moving perhaps 1/100,000th of one degree.

Woods also had a legitimate point when he chastised the paparazzi for stalking his toddler and his mother. But chastising the paparazzi is like yelling at a shark in the water to stop pursuing its prey. Utterly fruitless. Those ass—– have no conscience.

When will Tiger return to golf? He couldn’t say. First he’s going back to rehab, but it could be this year. He vowed then he does return, he’ll be “more respectful of the game.”

Woods closed by saying he hopes we’ll one day believe in him again, and then he stepped down and into the embrace of his mother, reminding us all that yes, the man has been blessed with incredible talent and fortune, and yes, he has done his best to throw it all away–but like the rest of us, he is just a man, and he has apologized for his misdeeds, and he seems sincere about trying to make things right.

But here’s the thing: I never “believed” in Woods in the first place, any more than I believe in any professional athlete or entertainer or celebrity. I appreciate their talents, but just because they convey a certain (manufactured) image in commercials or they utter all the right cliches in post-game interviews doesn’t mean I buy into the notion of the superstar/role model. Do you? Really?

Tiger Woods doesn’t owe any of us anything from this point. He’s a damn golfer, not a world leader. Should he be more a role model on the course? Tone down the swearing and the fits, become a bit friendlier to the media and to fans? Sure. But his real debts are to his wife and his children, to the people in his life. Godspeed to them.

Sneak peek at the script for Tiger’s press conference tomorrow:

“What are you lookin’ at?  You’re all a bunch of f***ing’ a**holes. You know why?  You don’t have the guts to be what you wanna be. You need people like me. You need people like me so you can point your f***in’ fingers, and say “that’s the bad guy.” So, what’ll that make you? Good? You’re not good. You just know how to hide, how to lie. Me, I don’t have that problem.  Me, I always tell the truth. Even when I lie. So say goodnight to the bad guy. Come on. Last time you’re gonna see a bad guy like this again, let me tell you. Make way for the bad guy!”

Something about Leo DiCaprio’s look in “Shutter Island” reminds me of the young Orson Welles in “Citizen Kane”…

From Publishers Weekly:

Bet the House: How I Gambled Over a Grand a Day for 30 Days on Sports, Poker, and Games of Chance Richard Roeper. Chicago Review (IPG, dist.), $19.95 (272p) ISBN 978-1-56976-247-9

Chicago Sun-Times columnist Roeper (Sox and the City) was inspired by filmmaker Morgan Spurlock’s documentary Super Size Me to do his own 30-day challenge: “every day for 30 days, I would risk at least $1,000” gambling. From craps and blackjack, to slots, off-track betting, poker tournaments, online poker, the lottery, and more, he gives a day-by-day account, with wins and losses, such as “Day 8: Bankroll: + $4,980.” Shuffling a full deck of anecdotes, movie references, and memoir moments, Roeper deals in such topics as gambling addiction, high rollers, casinos of choice, Indian gaming facilities, celebrity and charity poker tournaments, luck vs. strategy, and sports upsets. Amid dreams and desperation, he recalls, “I have had insane fun and I have experienced freefalling, dangerous lows in various gleaming casinos on the Strip.” As a film critic, Roeper is certainly aware that his entertaining book could easily be adapted into an equally entertaining high-stakes movie. (Apr. 1)

Two years ago, when Twitter was young, I opened an account and tried Tweeting from the Independent Spirit Awards and the Oscars. Not that I even knew what to call it back then. Read from the bottom up…

More gold love for the Coen bros. Well deserved. 10:44 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

None of the four acting winners is an American. That’s probably a first… 10:41 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

I talked with Diablo and her brother at the Spirit Awards after party yesterday. It’s obvious family means the world to her… 10:29 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

That tattoo makes Amy Winehouse look like a wimp. 10:26 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Diablo! Score one for suburban Lemont. 10:25 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Class move by Stewart to bring Marketa back out so she could say her thank you’s. 9:59 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

“Falling Slowly” — awesome. 9:50 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Backstage, Marion C. says she wanted to marry Peter Sellers when she was a little girl. 9:42 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Raise your hand if you remember Marion Cotillard was in “Big Fish” and “A Good Year.” 9:41 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

I’ll be backstage shortly and I’ll keep you posted!! 7:12 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

The last stragglers are making their way into the theater. 7:12 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Katherine Heigl: 27 dresses, and 27 feet tall. 7:05 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

I have a $100 Oscar pool bet with Clooney. I’m favored. 7:04 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Gary Busey: scary. 7:03 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Heidi Klum: apparently not from here. 5:18 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Glamour!!! LOL 4:47 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

I have about 18 inches of real estate, behind a plastic hedge. 4:47 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Early arrivals include Lisa Rinna and her lips. And Lou Gossett Jr. 4:43 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

On the red carpet now. I can’t leave my perch for the next three hours. 4:42 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

I just gave an interview to Poland’s largest daily newspaer. Fortunately the reporter’s English was way better than my Polish. 2:28 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

They used giant vacuum machines to dry the red carpet. So we won’t have to retitle the show “There Will be Mud.” 2:16 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Speaking of performances: Hillary Clinton mocking Barack Obama makes her seem cynical, bitter and desperate. 1:39 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Gil Cates says the opening 90 seconds tonight will be earth-shattering. It’s always dangerous to make such promises. 1:38 PM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

They’re going to keep the tent up over the red carpet. A soggy Tilda Swinton just wouldn’t do. 9:36 AM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

We’re about eight hours away from the Oscars, and there’s a steady rain falling. 9:33 AM Feb 24th, 2008 from txt

Casey Affleck: definitely taller than Ellen Page. 10:58 PM Feb 23rd, 2008 from txt

Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem are sitting on a sofa next to a pillow with Bardem’s pic on it . 10:10 PM Feb 23rd, 2008 from txt

I’m now at the Miramax party. They have pillows emblazoned with images from their films. 10:09 PM Feb 23rd, 2008 from txt

Samantha Ronson is the DJ at the after-party at Shutters on the Beach. 6:46 PM Feb 23rd, 2008 from txt

‘Juno’ was the big winner at the Spirit Awards. Best pic and best actress for Ellen Page… 6:27 PM Feb 23rd, 2008 from txt

Cate Blanchett won the Spirit Award for supporting actress and dedicated it to the late Heath Ledger… 4:47 PM Feb 23rd, 2008 from txt

Parker Posey is wearing a white rain coat indoors and eating popcorn. Her life is an independent movie. 3:30 PM Feb 23rd, 2008 from txt

Had a nice chat with Diablo Cody, who wrote “Juno.” She’s a grad of Benet Academy in Lisle. 2:59 PM Feb 23rd, 2008 from txt

I’m at the Independent Spirit Awards. 2:56 PM Feb 23rd, 2008 from txt

ed carpet. 12:56 PM Feb 23rd, 2008 from txt

I’ll be on the red carpet with the Fox News Channel at 11:30 CST this morning. 11:11 AM Feb 23rd, 2008 from txt

It’s 50 degrees in LA. They’re talking about how “cold” it might be for the Oscars. From a Chicago perspective, that’s just hilarious. 8:19 PM Feb 22nd, 2008 from txt

My interview with Clooney airs on WLS-TV this Sunday at 4pm. 2:41 PM Feb 22nd, 2008 from txt

I like mine better 2:40 PM Feb 22nd, 2008 from txt

Now I see his Oscar picks in Time magazine. 2:40 PM Feb 22nd, 2008 from txt

Last week George Clooney asked me if “No Country” was going to win Best Picture. 2:40 PM Feb 22nd, 2008 from txt

Hello Oscar fans! Stay tuned for dispatches from Hollywood. 9:43 AM Feb 22nd, 2008 from txt

Howard Stern says he’s not ruling out the possibility of replacing Simon Cowell on “American Idol.” Howard hates to travel and it’s hard to picture him going to all those hotel banquet rooms in Atlanta, Boston, Dallas, etc., etc., but he says the idea of getting paid a kabillion dollars for working only a few months at a time is appealing–and who better than Howard to rip into those that deserve to be ripped?

And if they’re looking for a couple of judges to join Stern at the table, here’s a trio that’s worked before in a judging capacity:

We all know celebrities live charmed lives, but that doesn’t mean there are drawbacks that accompany the great stuff, whether it’s dealing with paparazzi trailing your every move as you pick up your dry cleaning, fans pestering you for autographs while you’re in the restroom—-or doing a grueling publicity tour for your movie. I’ve been a reporter at junkets where an actor will sit for 30, 40, even 50 interviews in a single day, trying to sound peppy and engaged as one entertainment journalist after another asks the same questions. (“What was it like to work with Co-Star A?” “What’s your next project?” “Did you do any research for this role?” “What was it like to work with Director B?”)

Even more soul-sucking than the in-person junketeer experience is the satellite interview tour. You sit in a small, hot room with the lights bearing down on you, staring into the black hole of a camera lens while fielding questions from the hosts of “Good Morning Topeka!” and, “How’s it Goin’ Cincinnati!”

I’ve been the interview subject on a few of those tours, and it gave me a whole new appreciation for what these people go through. (Again, I know: they’re millionaires. They wanted to be famous. They asked for this. Still doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.) After about two hours, you’ve lost all track of who you’re talking to, which jokes you’ve already used, what your middle name is. You just can’t wait for it to end.

Mel Gibson was doing one of those tours recently to promote “Edge of Darkness,” and his plasma-screened image appeared alongside WGN-TV’s Dean Richards, who kept bringing up Gibson’s well-documented troubles.

Celebrities hate it when you bring up their well-documented troubles. Their publicists REALLY hate it when you bring up their well-documented troubles. Sometimes they’ll cut the interview short and usher you out of the room if you dare bring up the DUI or the messy divorce or the battery charge.

In this case, Gibson tried to deflect Richards’ queries, but Dean-o kept hammering away at him before ending the interview with a mention of Gibson’s movie. After they said goodbye, but with Gibson still on-camera and with his mike on, we hear a one-word comment: “Asshole.”

Gibson says he was directing the comment at his publicist, who supposedly was making faces at him. There is a moment near the very end when you see Gibson’s eyes dart offscreen, as if distracted. But I don’t know—-seems to me he’s calling Richards an asshole.

I don’t know Dean very well, but he’s always been nice to me. I’ve been a guest on WGN-TV a few times with him, and he’s always professional, courteous and fun to work with. (He’s also got great pipes. If you watch Cubs baseball or other programming on superstation on WGN-TV, you hear him doing voice-overs all the time.)

Does he push it a little bit with Gibson? Absolutely. But it’s better than the usual suck-up interview where the questioner doesn’t dare mention the elephant in the room. That said, I can see why Gibson would mutter “Asshole,” at the end of that exchange. The guy fucked up big-time four years ago, but one can understand it if he said, “That’s it, I’m done, I’m not talking about this shit in public for the rest of my life.”

We all gotta learn to let things go, whether it’s our mistakes or somebody else’s.