Two trusted critics, Dean Van de Motter and Doug Ireland, both knew Vito Russo, so heed their high praise of the brand new biography Celluloid Activist by Michael Schiavi. Ireland writes a comprehensive tribute to his friend while also critiquing the book:
"It is the great merit of Schiavi’s meticulously researched book that he restores to us Vito’s exuberant incandescence, his extraordinary charisma, his evergreen sense of indignation, and his unquenchable militancy, as well as his vulnerability and never-ending search for love on his terms (“the only terms any of us ever knows,” as Orson Welles said in “Citizen Kane” — for one cannot write about Vito without dropping in one of those cinematic references that ceaselessly and obsessively peppered his conversation). Vito was a friend of mine, and I do so miss him. Now, thanks to Schiavi’s book, he lives again."
Van de Motter knew Vito from ACT UP. He says,
"Before AIDS defined both his body and his activism, before his participation in the Gay Activist’s Alliance re-defined Queer Identity, Vito Russo was a passionate lover of film. He owned a movie projector as a child and spent most of the rest of his life accumulating films. But more than anything else, he loved screening them. Perhaps nothing gave him more satisfaction than showing movies to other people. It was of course a natural for him to screen the movies for the GAA’s post-Stonewall Firehouse Flicks series. After the success of the first screening: Roman Polanski’s The Fearless Vampire Killers, Vito Russo became convinced that there was value to gays watching movies together. Years before these films–and more–would be re-defined and deconstructed in his classic book The Celluloid Closet, Vito was doing what he was always doing: showing movies to his friends and laughing along with them.
And yet it is impossible to think of him as a film historian who was way ahead of his time without thinking of him as an activist...."


