2021 In Film

Every year, I take the month of January to catch up on as many of the films I missed throughout the year as I can. This post/list/sleep aid is the result of my annual maniacal start to the new year. And yeah, I realize it’s nearly February but the academy has only begun their own voting process. So shhhhhhhhhhhhut it.

One of the final films on my list to see was Spielberg’s remake of “West Side Story.” This one always seemed like a bad idea. Why remake something widely regarded as a stone cold classic? Now, specifically for me, West Side Story holds a special place in my heart. This was a family film for me growing up. Both my parents were fans and showed the film to my brother and I beginning when we were still pretty young. For my mother to be a fan was no surprise. She liked cool things like Martin Scorsese and David Lynch.

Quick side note: My mother really was my introduction to two of my all-time favorite directors in the two aforementioned gentlemen. As a small kid, I was really into Star Wars. I also loved to read and so my mother figured I’d like Dune. That was my introduction to David Lynch. I didn’t just watch movies, I would also read the boxes in the rental store and study the opening credits. Dune was based on a book and so I immediately had respect for it, lol. It was directed by David Lynch and I knew that was super important because it was the final name listed. Okay, Dune rocked this little kid’s socks and Lynch was on the radar.

I was still too young to really dive into Lynch though, lmao. I remember my parents renting Blue Velvet and me trying to sneak into the hallway to catch some of it because I was most definitely not allowed to watch that one yet myself. Next up was Twin Peaks and I remember my mom being really into the show and though I didn’t understand a lot of what was going on, it was Lynch and the guy from both Dune and Blue Velvet and so I watched some of it too. Those who know me know that in the years since, Lynch has established himself as my all-timer and Twin Peaks rivaled perhaps only by LOST as my favorite piece of visual entertainment ever.

But I digress.

We were discussing 2021 in film and I just whisked us away to the 1980s for two separate tangents. Back to tangent number one. The real kicker was that my father loved West Side Story. “But dad, it’s a musical.” My father was always your prototypical country boy tough guy. He was happiest watching Robert Redford trudge through the snow for three straight hours. He loved Chuck Norris and shit like that.

And…a musical?

Yep.

So West Side Story was the rare treat where the entire family could bond over something we all pretty much equally enjoyed. My skepticism of the remake remained for a long time. Yeah, I know it’s Spielberg and he’s responsible for my favorite film of all-time. Hell, He’s responsible for probably two of my top three films of all-time. Double hell, he’s probably got a half dozen films in my top twenty five. What the hell was I worried about?

Spielberg hasn’t seemed like himself in a long time. A loooooong time. In recent years, it’s felt like he’s either lost the rhythm or the joy. Well, even if it was only for one film, he regained it all back because the West Side Story remake is an absolute triumph.

This triggered another thought: Man, I haven’t seen “The Outsiders” in a long time. And I’m happy to report that in recent years, Coppola has revisited his film and added scenes back in — scenes deemed unnecessary to the runtime when originally released. Adding these scenes back in allows the story to focus on what was always most important: the relationships between these damaged and sensitive boys. It helps show the macho antics as armor and the giant rumble near the end of the film as the useless exercise in toxic masculinity that it always was. If you haven’t seen the film before, or haven’t seen it in a long time, first read the book. Always read the book. But then go ahead and check out “The Complete Novel” version of the film. I think you’ll be glad you did. (The courtroom scene is still hilariously terrible though)

And now, several million words into this manifesto, we have the films of 2021. First off, 2021 electrified me as a film lover way more than 2020 did. These twenty five films I liked quite a bit and there are fifteen more that I’ll add on at the end that I also really enjoyed. There are at least seven films on this list that I love enough to have already purchased on disc or plan to — maybe more. But enough is enough and it’s time for the list.

1. DRIVE MY CAR – This is the most recent film I’ve scene and caused me to completely rewrite everything about this list. (Full disclosure: I always anticipated this though) The moment I read about this film coming out of Cannes, I was in. The trailer was great and it was based on a short story by Haruki Murakami, one of my all-time favorite authors. Still, I was blown away by the humanized beauty of what I saw for three hours the other night. The film is full of moments where humans are human and that’s all. It’s simple and profound. It will make you smile and laugh and cry real, deep, emotional tears. A film about the highs and lows of life and how trying to subdue yourself into the middle road can lead you nowhere. Cigarettes hanging out of the sunroof. Those who’ve seen it know what that means.

2. C’MON C’MON – A film where Joaquin Phoenix plays a documentarian who is tasked with taking care of his young nephew for a few weeks. Until I finally saw Drive My Car, this was firmly at the top of my list. Joaquin Phoenix is everything anyone could ever want in an actor. His range, both intellectual and emotional, is fucking limitless. He is as good an actor as I have ever seen and this may be my favorite ever performance from him. Another film about human beings trying their best to be human beings. And another film that made me weep.

3. THE GREEN KNIGHT – Art. This film is like an interactive art exhibit come to life. Mesmerizing and deeply strange and perfectly told. Every single shot in this one feels like it could hang on the wall of a museum. Seriously dropped my jaw. Dev Patel is one of the most underrated actors working today and I hope he and David Lowery continue making art together.

4. WEST SIDE STORY – My favorite Spielberg film since…I don’t even know? Munich (seriously underrated Spielberg) or Minority Report? Nah, it’s better than those. Saving Private Ryan? Nah, I think I prefer this to that one as well. Schindler’s List? Okay, maybe there’s the line. Still, that was nearly thirty years ago but also marks the moment where I feel like Spielberg became a bit more serious and eventually his worked suffered as the message began to smother the joy of the work. For me, he recaptured nearly all of the joy and cleverness from his 70s and 80s output with West Side Story. It’s only sad to me that it released during a pandemic where a ton of new eyes have yet to find it.

5. THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH – The best adaptation of this work I have ever seen. Another jaw dropper. Minblowingly beautiful for every single second of it’s runtime. Joel Coen laid waste to anyone even thinking of adapting Shakespeare. Someone asked me: How was Denzel? And I was like: The fuck? I just told you to see this at all costs, that it’s a masterpiece and Denzel fucking Washington is playing Macbeth. How do you think he was?

Okay, I wasn’t quite that mean about it but for real? It’s Denzel and yes he crushes it. CRUSHES it. Also, Corey Hawkins delivers what should be a star making performance in this as Macduff.

6. LICORICE PIZZA – Paul Thomas Anderson has yet to make I film I haven’t dug. I feel like he’s one of those filmmakers whom I occupy the same mental wavelength with. Licorice Pizza is no different. There’s been a ton written about this film already and I disagree with a lot of it. I can see where the criticisms are coming from but I personally feel like the film was aiming at something totally different. I’m not going to get into it all here — maybe later, around late March perhaps? But this was maybe the funniest film of the year. Cooper Hoffman. This was his first film? Alana Haim. This was her first film? Jesus Christ these two had insane chemistry together and total command over every scene. And there’s Bradley Cooper who gave this year’s most hilariously over the top performance. Every single second of Cooper in this is a riot. He damn near steals the entire film in about four scenes. Another future purchase for me.

7. THE POWER OF THE DOG – The first third of this film, I thought Campion had seriously miscast the role of Phil Burbank with Benedict Cumberbatch. Whoops. Jane Campion deserves to win every directing award handed out for her work on this film. I’m glad to see she was nominated by the DGA already. “The Power Of The Dog” unfolds like a really great, challenging book (which it was based on). Campion sets each scene with precision and every actor in the film each give subtle yet profound performances. This one surprised me.

8. NIGHTMARE ALLEY – Bradley Cooper again! I’m a huge fan of Guillermo Del Toro. He’s on that list of: show me nothing just tell me where to be and I’ll see it. Nightmare Alley is like a rotten onion of a movie where each layer gets peeled back to reveal a little bit more of the worst of mankind. It’s marvelous and the most gorgeous movie of the year. Also my favorite film score of the year. Also easily the best final scene of any film this year. Fucking haunting.

9. THE FRENCH DISPATCH – I love Wes Anderson. And this was maybe the most Wes Anderson film Wes Anderson has ever made. It’s almost like he could sense someone was about to make a “Wes Anderson type” film and said to himself: well, allow me to set the bar a little higher. Loved it. Give me more. I hope Bill Murray lives forever.

10. PIG – The surprise of the year for me. I’m a huge fan of Nicolas Cage. He never stops and more importantly he’s never stopped giving a damn about his work. He is always “all-in.” If you’re a filmmaker and just hired Nicolas Cage, you’re getting 100% of him. I have an immense amount of respect for Cage exactly because this is his outlook. He’s amazing. And “Pig” ended up being a completely different film than I thought it would be, albeit a much better film. It completely subverts genre conventions and plays with the dead carcass of those old thoughts. Plus, this is the best Nicolas Cage performance in DECADES. Hey Academy voters, nominate him you cowards!

11. RAGING FIRE – Donnie yen. Nicolas Tse. Abandoned church fight with a sledge hammer. You’re welcome.

12. DELIVER US FROM EVIL – Operatic violence only the way the eastern hemisphere can deliver these days.

13. BOILING POINT – Single camera shot drama about the owner/chef of a restaurant on a busy night. Stephen Graham is one helluva actor.

14. THE HAND OF GOD – From the director of “The Italian Beauty.” More unbelievable Italian artistry on display by Sorrentino. Another one that snuck up on me.

15. THE HARDER THEY FALL – Jonathan Majors is poised to be a HUGE star. Great dialog. Great cast. Cool as fuck. Great time. Plus: Delroy Lindo!

16. DUNE – Yes I talked about the Lynch version earlier. I realize that wasn’t a great adaptation of the novel. This one is. Epic filmmaking from Denis Villeneuve.

17. VAL – I love Val Kilmer and I miss him being in movies. This was a true treat from one of my all-time favorite actors.

18. Roadrunner – I cried the day Bourdain died and I’m getting emotional typing these words now. I cannot understate how much of an inspiration Bourdain has always been for me. I miss him so much every single day.

19. GODZILLA VS KONG – Big dumb fun with just enough heart. A script that knows to just get out of the way and also that Kong should be a part of the emotional core of the film. What do you want me to say? I love Kong.

20. LAST NIGHT IN SOHO – A weird one for me. Super fun, messy movie. I dug it a lot but still probably my least favorite Edgar Wright film. I’m not dissing it because I’ve liked all of his work and he’s another filmmaker where my only question is: what’s next and where do I need to be?

21. THE SUICIDE SQUAD – James Gunn cracks me the fuck up. He just does. I’m laughing right now thinking about the animation of how King Shark runs. It’s fucking hilarious. I laughed so hard, like three minutes in that I missed the next five minutes. Plus, it’s now spawned the Peacemaker show and that one is pure chaotic joy.

22. CANDYMAN – I like this one. Very pretty to look at. Felt like a cool idea for a legacy sequel.

23. COPSHOP – The attitude on display makes up for anything else this film might lack. Carnahan can be hit or miss for me but this was a definite hit. A good, old fashioned, 70s throwback of a stupid action flick. It’s good.

24. OLD HENRY – Another western? Hell yeah, another good one. I will beat the drum of Stephen Dorff until I die. He fucking rules and he’s a great villain here. Another good, old fashioned film.

25. WEREWOLVES WITHIN – Sam Richardson is one of the funniest people on the planet. He’s currently killing it on After Party for AppleTV+. Formerly killing it on Veep and Detroiters and anything else he’s been in. This is a cool, silly, sarcastic as shit, funny movie.

That’s the top twenty five. And now for fifteen more I enjoyed (in alphabetical order so you know I went to school and shit).

Antlers, Belfast, Don’t Look Up, No Sudden Move, No Time To Die, North Hollywood, Shang-Chi, Small Engine Repair, The Beta Test, The Card Counter, The Guilty, The Last Duel, The Matrix Resurrections, The Super Bob Einstein Movie, Vacation Friends.

I’m tired now. I’ve wasted enough of your time. I’m gonna go do something else now. Next week…I don’t know…I’ll figure something out. Until then, love each other.

I’ll Be Gone In The Dark and White America’s Obsession With True Crime

Reading Michelle McNamara’s book and then watching the subsequent HBO series has set my mind ablaze. First of all, both my wife and I are big fans of true crime. Second of all, there’s actually no second of all, we devour true crime in various formats (documentaries, tv news programs, books, podcasts, etc.). This has led me down a path of what I think is self discovery. My biggest takeaway whenever I consume true crime is a question: Why?

To put it another way: what is it about true crime that fascinates me to such a degree?

I cannot speak for everyone, not in great depth but I can say this: as a white man in America, I think it has something to do with guilt. It’s no secret that Americans are obsessed with true crime. Adding to that, specifically white America is obsessed with it. Adding a bit more, women in general (and again specifically white women) are drawn to tales of sordid reality. I think there are a few reasons. Speaking generally, white America is drawn to these stories because we are the most likely candidates for living lives of privilege. We understand, even if we don’t acknowledge it, that our privilege comes with a price. That price is the blood and forced struggle of minority Americans and the downtrodden. I for one am beginning to reckon with the awful history this country and our ancestors have created to make my life as easy as it is. I empathize and sympathize with those who are fighting back against the system, only asking for equality. It strikes me as terrifying, more than ever, that asking for equality and justice has caused such a rift in this country. But with the rift comes self-reflection. I suggest more people try this. It’s hard, I know — much easier to ignore the problem and carry on but carrying on has helped contribute to the misery of others. What white America has chosen to do is take those feelings of guilt and enabling and then exorcise them with true crime media. We say to ourselves: hey, at least this got squared away. Even when the crime in question is still unsolved, we look at the victims with pity, from our perch on high and say: these poor people, I wish I could help. Sometimes, people actually do help and sometimes the jolt of adrenaline we get from these true crime stories fades to nothing and we carry on. It is a way for us to organize this world into categories: Our lives and the horrible shit that happens to people who are not us.

As far as white women are concerned, I cannot directly speak for them but I do think I have a small amount of incite into the why of it all. I think white women are ALMOST as privileged as white men except white men will never willingly share their perch with anyone, not taken as a whole. The above statements ring mostly true for them but women also identify with the victims, which is an important distinction to make. Women in general live their lives automatically as a minority citizen, despite being in the majority. This just illustrates how dominating and demeaning the ruling class of men has always been and continues to be. Things are changing for the better but we should be much further down the path of progress than we currently stand. White women get more out of true crime than their male counterparts because they don’t consume these stories through a filter of pure pity and observation. Many women, far too many, have suffered at the hands of men and there is a camaraderie with the victims that permeates all.

This finally brings me to this week’s discussion on the brilliant mind of Michelle McNamara and her hunt for the Golden State Killer. For the record, this post is specifically about the HBO doc series that aired earlier this year.

The doc does a tremendous job conveying McNamara’s excellence as a writer. Her words come through like a loud speaker blaring morning announcements in school — you cannot escape their power. The doc somehow gives equal time to McNamara amidst her dogged pursuit of the truth, the survivors and victims of GSK/EAR’s attacks, and GSK/EAR himself. By the end of the series, and the tragic death of McNamara before the boogeyman was ever caught, we’re given even more to chew on. The doc is unafraid to dive in to McNamara’s obsessive nature in chasing the truth which led to a failed hubris with prescription drugs that ended in tragedy. This obviously ties in with our current opioid epidemic, so we’re getting four docs in one.

As each episode unfolds, we fall further down the rabbit hole on the trail of a serial killer and rapist. We become part of the hunt. We’re shown brilliant tidbits and ideas like McNamara’s thought to use genealogy sites like 23 and me in order to track and trace the dna in a different way. This was ultimately the successful method in catching GSK/EAR.

It’s in the bits sprinkled throughout the doc, chronicling the survivors, that separates this doc from most others in its genre. There is immense humanity here. In fact, as the doc wraps up, post McNamara’s death, the survivors come to the forefront. This gives us the a peak into their lives and shines a light on how a single, horrific incident can shatter a person’s life to unrepairable bits. But these survivors have more in common than simply being victims. They all, individually, possess an extraordinary amount of inner fortitude. They’ve suffered and some of them have struggled to form lasting romantic relationships in the wake of their attacks yet they are still here and still walking forward. It’s undeniably hopeful.

The last thing this doc shines a light on is GSK/EAR himself. This is a man who hid in the shadows his entire life. The title, I’ll Be Gone In The Dark, is taken from something he told to his victims. McNamara wrote about and threatened GSK/EAR with bringing him into the light.

And that is exactly what the doc does.

It brought this despicable motherfucker in the light for all to see.

We get so much detail on who he was. There are interviews with his family members who are catastrophically distraught by who their kin really was. To some, he was Uncle Joe, and that thought is fucking crazy. I was particularly struck by two stories the nephew told. The first was his recounting of what he was told about his mother’s rape at age seven — SEVEN. His Uncle Joe, his mother’s brother, was a witness. The second story was him recounting an event that happened to him. He woke up one night, as a child, to see a man in his bedroom, shrouded by a ski mask, watching him. He now realizes this was his Uncle Joe. Monsters as we learn of them in stories, aren’t real. Monsters help us to organize good and evil into categories. Monsters only exist wearing the skin of men. Shine a light on them and the illusion breaks, leaving in its wake nothing but a pathetic husk emulating a human being.

That’s all I have for this week. Next up is the HBO series, Perry Mason. Until then, love each other.

Class Action Park – A Documentary Of How I Grew Up

It’s a good thing that I keep notes on everything I decide to write about otherwise I wouldn’t remember my thoughts on, The King Of Staten Island. Yes, I’m pushing that film one more week. I fully intended to write about it for this post but a special little something came my way via HBOMax. That special little something was a documentary called, Class Action Park. Why do I consider it a special little something? Because it was one of my favorite places to go during my formative years.

I urge everyone who has the new HBO service to check this doc out in order to fully grasp how insane this “amusement” park was. There has never been anything quite like it in its wake. I’m going to go less into the doc and more into my vault of memories in order to paint this picture. This may end up being a little more abstract because memory can be fickle but paint this picture I will try to do.

Action Park was nestled in a mountain in the town of Vernon, just on the New Jersey side of the border with New York. It’s New York sister town is Warwick, the town nearly my entire family grew up in. Hell, when I was four years old, I lived maybe two miles from Action Park, right on the same road (route 94). I grew up hearing countless stories about this maniac’s paradise. We drove by it on our way to Space Farms (another maniac’s paradise full of literal shit throwing monkeys, grizzlies on death’s door, animals missing feet, a snake pit, and a lodge full of taxidermy which is an odd touch for a zoo). A few of my aunts and uncles and their friends all worked at Action Park and they told us the craziest stories, trying to scare us. It didn’t scare me — it made me want to go even more. Not a summer went by without the rumor of another death. We didn’t know what to believe so we chose to believe it all.

The older I got, the more I badgered my parents into taking us. To this day, my mother claims she never took us — I think this is her way of trying to hide her shame in allowing us access to this playground for psychos. I have specific memories of my parents emphatically saying, “NO” to the wave pool. I also remember my father walking me up the hill to the wave pool and showing me the literal hundreds of people in the pool at once. He’d say, “look at all these animals, they have no regard for hygiene or safety, someone is about to die.” Eventually, I won out and we went to the wave pool. I was made to stay in the shallow end while my father and one of my uncles went into the deeper end to test things out. They came back two minutes later, paler and out of breath, saying, “it’s a death trap, seriously, someone is gonna die today.” And that was the end of the wave pool. In all honesty, I only went in that wave pool maybe one more time when I got older and it was truly a miserable experience. The water was unnaturally warm and full of chemicals to offset shit we probably don’t want to even think about entering that pool. There were always too many people in the pool and the water was, how do I put this, less than translucent. Thus ended my infatuation with the wave pool but not the park.

Once I was a teenager, my love for the park blossomed. Now I was big enough to go on all the rides. In truth, there were never any rules and I could have probably done whatever I wanted as a little kid but my parents, for some reason, did not want me to die. I was now old enough to go alone with my friends and we went all the time. “Mom, Brian’s here, we’re going over to his house.” Off to Action Park. “Mom, Ryan is here, we’re going to his house.” Off to Action Park. “Mom, Matt’s here, Jimmy and Scotty are here, Howard’s here, we’re going to the mall, the fair, the skatepark, etc.” Off to Action Park. Hell, the last two years it was known as Action Park, in the mid 90s, I had a fucking season pass. That bad boy set you back twenty bucks…for the entire summer. In fact, one of the last times I was ever at Action Park was in August of 1996. There were a lot of us that day because it was the local date for The Warped Tour. I watched many of my friends pony up serious money for Warped Tour tickets and I got to go for free. See, Action Park didn’t bother to close that day and since I had a season pass, I was allowed entry. There was no discernible way to tell the difference between where the festival was and the rest of the park. Maybe there was but I was never stopped and freely moved between cooling off on water rides and going back to the festival. What a day.
The park was split in half by route 94 which cut through the town of Warwick and continued on into New Jersey. The doc dramatizes how the park was split in half by a major highway and this isn’t entirely true. Route 94 is still only a two-lane road — a fast two lane road but not exactly a major highway. Still, it was a bit dangerous. If you couldn’t get a parking spot in the lot next to the park entrance, you had to park in an adjacent lot and then walk along route 94 until you got into Action Park. It was like a thrill ride before getting to the thrill rides. I even heard stories from my uncles about racing the go-karts on route 94 at night. The karts were only supposed to go about 20mph but there were ways to override the governors and get those karts at speeds over 50mph. I know for a fact that this happened routinely and it was hilarious to hear the documentary confirm this for everyone else. There were also speed boats but the rumors about the water being infested with snakes are 100% accurate and thus I never even attempted those boats. Also, I remember having to be at least 21 to ride the boats, which I never was that old while Action Park was open. There were also bumper boats but the “pond” they were in was nothing but pure gasoline and oil. The smell could overpower you just from walking past the spot. Then, there were the battle tanks. These were fun. They cost extra money but we always paid. You could ride around in a little fenced in arena, inside of a miniature tank, shooting tennis balls from your cannon at the other tanks. If you hit the target, the tank was incapacitated for a short time. The arena itself was littered with cannons on the fence where non-participants could pop in some quarters and shoot tennis balls at the tanks too. This was all outrageous fun. I specifically remember how proficient my younger brother was at the tanks. Now, the real fun began when a tank would require service. When this happened, an Action Park employee had to enter the arena and fix the tank. If you watched closely, you’d notice the tank area would have a lot of people hanging around. Once an employee entered the arena, everyone would race to an outer cannon, pop in some quarters, and proceed to pelt the attendant with tennis balls. What a bunch of assholes we were.

That was all on one side of the park. You could then walk across the pedestrian bridge to get the rest of the mayhem. They suckered you in at first with a cool little mini-golf course that was unfortunately always somehow flooded out in spots. From there, you’d walk ahead and see perhaps the most famous of Action Park rides, the Cannonball Loop. I wish I had a cool story about this ride but I’m not convinced it was ever open. That was always the rumor, that the ride was sometimes open. Every single time I was ever at the park, that ride was shut down. The documentary does a great job of highlighting how insane the “engineering” of that ride was. The most hilarious aspect of that ride, and in many of the rides, was how shallow the water was that you shot out into. They were essentially the depth of parking lot puddles.

Right to the left of the Cannonball Loop were the Bungee jumping towers and an absolutely diabolical ride called the Slingshot. I never bungee jumped because that seemed like a bridge too far but I did pay the five dollar fee to do the slingshot…once. I have never been so terrified in my life. It’s a two person ride where you sit inside a sphere which has two giant bungee cords attached to it. The other end of these cords are attached to twin poles that must be a hundred feet tall. Three, two, one and boom! You are shot straight at the sun. You are positive that you have made that fatal mistake and are about to meet your ancestors. You can’t walk or think straight for about twenty minutes after exiting the ride. I spent the rest of that day trying to trick my friends into doing it themselves but alas they were all smarter than I.

The rest of the park opened up into the mountain. There were two cliff dives that ended in water always occupied by other swimmers. I can’t tell you how many times I watched someone cliff dive on top of someone else. The attendants at the dives gave you some “rules” but nobody listened to them and there were no repercussions for not listening. What I remember most is the people who were hesitant at the edge and the verbal abuse they were subjected to by other guests until succumbing to peer pressure. There was also a Tarzan swing and the doc explains just how cold that water was but you can never understand just how cold unless you did that swing yourself. It was shocking. It’s also the first time I saw nudity in real time. I’m not proud of what I’m about to tell you but there were spots to stand at Action Park where you were guaranteed to see naked girls. The Tarzan swing claimed bikini tops. Geronimo Falls was another. I never did the tallest ones, I did the slightly smaller one right next to it and felt like my suit split my asshole in half, that was enough for me. Still, Geronimo Falls was a place where bikini tops were also claimed and we knew it. The last spot was Surf Hill which was like a gigantic set of slip ‘n slides right next to each other. There was no way to really separate the lanes and countless times we’d skip over and crash into each other. It was painful but somehow still exceedingly fun. Also, it ate up bikini tops. There was also a ride called Aqua Skoot. This ride had you sit on a plastic board and fly down a set of assembly line rollers. I’m not making this up. I watched a guy instantly fall forward and bounce, face first, down all of the rollers, going full scorpion and ending up in the “pool” at the bottom. I also got chased by bees every single time. This was something the doc pointed out as a regular occurrence. There was also a small arena with a giant fan that allowed you to “sky dive.” I got kicked off this ride after convincing the attendant to allow my friend Jimmy and myself on at the same time. We then engaged in the worst kung fu fight you’ve ever seen, the fan shut off, and we were asked to seek fun elsewhere. Lastly, there were a few rapids rides which are still, to this day, my favorite rapids rides ever. On the two man tubes, you could get your tube going absurdly fast and banking incredibly high on the sides. My friend Howard and I could routinely launch our tube over the side of the ride, marooning ourselves before bombing back into the ride. The craziest aspect of the rapids rides was how each one deposited everyone into the same pool. It turned into bumper tubes and a lot of testosterone led to many a fracas. The quickest way out, since you had to carry your tube back up to the top, was to launch off your own, run across other tubes, and steal someone else’s tube and off you went.

I don’t know, I loved this documentary and in particular, the way it made me remember all the time I spent at Action Park. More than that, it made me remember the insane and special childhood I had. I’m in my 40s now and having grown up in the 80s and 90s, kids today will never understand how unique a badge of honor that is. It’s not that our parents didn’t love and care for us, it’s that they trusted us to not kill our selves and they trusted the world around us. Growing up in Warwick (technically I grew up in Middletown but Warwick was where my family resided and where we spent a major portion of our time) I remember me and my brother and our cousins arriving at our grandparents’ house and being set loose on our own in the woods. This helped us develop a more intrepid spirit that I think has served us well into adulthood. Action Park represented that idea to its fullest. It let us go wild, get hurt, learn lessons and try again. We made it out alive and I’m not sure how but I am thankful for all of it. We were kings.

Next week, I (sort of) promise we’ll discuss The King Of Staten Island. Until then, love each other.

The Painter and the Thief – Compassion breeds Forgiveness

What does forgiveness look like? Can you quantify the power of redemption? Does it matter if it’s ever achieved so long as it’s attempted?

These questions ran through my mind while watching the documentary, The Painter and the Thief. I cried throughout this film and haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw it. It is a powerful statement on people being colored in shades and not just hard lines.

The story is about a woman named Barbora and a man named Bertil. Barbora is an artist and one night, after the close of a gallery show, two men break in and steal two of her paintings. The men are quickly captured and sentenced. The paintings are not recovered. One of the men is Bertil, and Barbora contacts him right away because she’s only concerned with recovering her paintings. What unfolds is one of the most beautiful portraits of the human spirit I have ever seen. Bertil is a drug addict and his addiction fuels his poor decisions in life. Once released from prison, he agrees to sit with Barbora in order for her to paint his portrait. They arrive at an agreement that he owes her this much. What neither of them could have known was the deep and soulful friendship that would blossom from the inciting tragic event.

When Bertil first sees his portrait, he breaks down in sobs — not mere tears, deep, uncontrollable sobs. He’s never seen himself from someone else’s perspective and this allows him to step outside himself for the first time ever. We are there sobbing right alongside Bertil. It’s here where the film truly shows us the power that art can possess. Watching someone, near hopeless, see themselves through someone else’s compassionate eyes is uplifting. We follow Bertil and Barbora through the subsequent years as their friendship continues. We are there with them through their daily struggles and small victories. Bertil tries so hard to kick his habit but his demons constantly get he better of him. At one point, he is nearly killed in a car wreck and Barbora is there with him throughout his long and seemingly impossible recovery.

For her part, Barbora has her own demons. They’re nowhere near the level of Bertil’s but still, we watch her struggle and it breaks our heart because she doesn’t deserve any of it. At first glance, it’s Bertil and his spirit that captivates us the most but by the end of the film, we are rooting for Barbora just as hard. I want as many people as possible to see this beautiful film because it will help them understand the struggle many of the more unfortunate of us contend with on a daily basis. This world could use as much compassion as possible.

This film strikes a decidedly personal tone for me because I’ve had a member of my family go through these struggles just like Bertil. Hell, in some scenes, this family member even resembles Bertil. He was such a nice person to be around but his demons always managed to get the best of him. I choose to recall the fond memories because this man was the father to my first ever niece (and then another one). No matter what, he’ll always be responsible for that gift — the greatest gift I have ever received. Unlike Bertil, this man eventually succumbed to his demons and left this world a little less vibrant for the rest of us.

We perceive time as a straight line but it’s only an illusion. Life spins us around, blindfolded, and then sends us off to conquer each day. It’s a miracle more of us don’t succumb. In the end, our lives are as precious as our time is finite and struggles or not, as long as we’re trying to make it all a bit more palatable, we’re going to be okay.

Next week, let’s talk about Ramey’s second season. Until then, love each other.