A Yearly Practice

I committed myself to a yearly practice: sending a thank you card to a doctor.

Every year on October 29, there's a surgeon who gets a card and a picture of me doing something I wouldn't have been able to do without his work. I've sent him a picture of me on top of a 14,000 foot mountain and one at the finish line of a half marathon. I'm not sure which one I'm sending next, but I know I'll have some good options by this October.

And really, that's one of the reasons I started doing this. I knew that if I had to have at least ONE adventure every year, even if it was just to have a picture to send, that would push me to do more. I can't live a sedentary, uninteresting, unadventurous life…because I need a picture to mail. This pushes me to try new things and simply…do more enjoyable things.

I also started doing this so that I would always remember gratefulness. It is so easy for us to forget what things used to be like once we live in a different reality. I want to remember how hard it used to be, so that I recognize just how good it is now. I believe that sending him a card keeps me in touch with thankfulness.

But there's actually a bigger reason that I send him a picture and a card. It's to remind HIM of how important he has been. Just another day in the office for him wrought out a massive life change for me. I think most people probably receive from him what I did, which is a massive gift…but then they go about living into that gift. This man changed everything for me, and I want him to know that. And that's why a one time thank you isn't sufficient in my mind. Every year that I'm able to do something is STILL a gift from that surgeon, and I want him to know that another day in the office shifted my potential for joy.

Neighbors, Alarms

Last December, someone kicked in my door and left with a few items…it seems they wanted to do their Christmas shopping at my place.

Because I don't want to repeat the experience, I've had an alarm installed in my house. It's taking some getting used to, and I've definitely already set it off once by accident. 

One of the things I've realized in this whole process is that a couple of decades ago, people didn't really have home alarms. 

They had neighbors. 

When my house was robbed, I couldn't even tell my neighbors to be on the look out, because we've never really spoke. I've lived here more than two years, and I know the name of ONE neighbor. I think it used to be that neighbors looked out for each other, and they would recognize when there was a suspicious car parked across the street. 

Home alarms are taking the role that our neighbors used to have. We would rely on our neighbors to watch over our house when we were gone, but now we rely on an electronic system. We simply couldn't ask a neighbor to gather our mail or pick up the newspaper, because that would be trusting and inconveniencing a stranger…who lives 25 feet away from me. 

I don't know what the lesson in all this is…it makes me realize that I wish I were more present in my neighborhood. If nothing else, that I could knock on their doors and tell them to be extra careful around the holidays. Maybe that's the challenge to me. Christmas is 33 weeks from today…I'm going to make sure that come December, my neighbors feel like they can trust me more than their alarm system.

I Am Not a Hipster

Hands down, this is my favorite movie of the week at Sundance. It seems to me that there is a lot to love about this film.

It's a musical in the sense that "Once" is a music. While the characters don't simply burst into song, as musicians their craft indicates their true feelings and struggles. The main character, Brook, is struggling to come to grips with the loss of his mother, his own purpose and the value of creation.

The film is full of references to his first album, Canines, which indicates that he has great talent for songwriting. However, Brook wonders about the value of such creation; the movie opens with him being heartbroken over the tsunami striking Japan's coastline. It is apparent that he questions the value of something as "silly" as songwriting in a world where such atrocities occur. In many ways, Brook craves something that is real. He shuns meaningless relationships and while he enjoys the praise of his peers, he knows that it is ultimately empty. 

This brings up the question of meaning and purpose to each life; what are the goals of living? An individual bestowed with huge amounts of talent wonders whether it's worth using it. Brook represents many of us who wonder what we are meant for. It's human nature to question our purpose.

Similarly, Brook's life questions the value of beauty. Is it enough that something is enjoyable, or must it have some further, deeper purpose? Is the enjoyment and appreciation of something enough to giving it intrinsic value? Perhaps the beauty of something indicates a built in value as well as the value of its creator.

A pivotal moment occurs between Brook and Clark, his would-be best friend. Brook states, "Too many people are making crap and calling it art." Clark responds, "I do it because it makes me happy." This epitomizes a future shift for Brook, a realization that creation itself has value. 

This movie was so well done in many ways. The dialogue is authentic and true; nothing about the interactions feels forced. The camera work is excellent, especially in the scene where Brook displays his brokenness. He breaks down at night and cries, waking one of his sisters. She comforts him holds him; it's an incredible scene, with the point of focus constantly shifting. It provides the audience with a sense of shifting clarity and mimics the view of one who has tears in their eyes. It is a finely crafted scene that serves as a high point of the directing.

Perhaps the best part of this film is the music. It is insightful into Brook's struggle and matches the philosophy of the film. The soundtrack is certainly worth owning, as is the Canines album, which the filmmakers released.

The Words

A blockbuster cast was one of the things that drew me to this movie. Bradley Cooper, Zoe Saldana, Dennis Quaid, Olivia Wilde and Jeremy Irons seem like a compilation of actors that could get in each others' way, but they actually work very well together. The brilliant aspect of this movie is the layers of narration. The "real world" story is Clay (Dennis Quaid) reading an exempt from his future novel about Rory (Bradley Cooper) and his wife (Zoe Saldana). In the course of this story, Jeremy Irons begins to tell a narrative to Rory, creating a third level. One of the people I saw this movie with commented that it's the Inception of narrative. 

I loved this film because the multiple layers is not artistic for the sake of doing it, but rather the story within a story format truly develops and connects the characters. Ultimately, the story is about Clay (through he gets less screen time than the other two narratives). The other two story lines are designed to inform the audience about Clay's struggles and current life situation. This is developed brilliantly through some key statements about Rory's life, which mirrors some of the struggles in Clay's. 

This movie was really rich with thoughts regarding human limitations, self worth, and the drive for success. Perhaps the biggest issue raised in "The Words" is what do we love more, our work or the people in our lives. Many of the characters are forced to choose which is more valuable for them, people or accomplishments. The film raised that question for me as well. Exactly what are we willing to sacrifice for accomplishment? In the film, Rory is never happier than when he has yet to accomplish anything. He and his wife live a simple life in a small apartment and they enjoy their lives. Once Rory tastes success, he cannot go back to that simple life; he cannot get everything back in the box.

"The Words" is absolutely worth seeing; I plan to watch it a few more times because it was so rich with questions and metaphor, but it lacks the pretentious nature of so many other analysis films. Make sure you catch this one at some point, though it doesn't have to be on the big screen.

Sleepwalk With Me

This is a fictionalized autobiography of a stand up comedian named Mike Burbiglia. In the film, his name is Matt Pandamiglio, indicating that this movie really isn't more than a step away from reality. In short, this is story of Matt's attempt to discover himself and his purpose, set against the backdrop of the relationship with his girlfriend.

At the outset, this relationship is what defines him; at one point, he says "Everyone thinks the best thing about me is my girlfriend." After eight years of dating, he begins to feel pressure to propose though he feels ill-prepared and lost. As his comedy career starts to thrive, he becomes more enamored of that life; he enjoys the long drives, the motels and the people he meets along the way. On the road, he builds a sense of community with the other comedians and starts to find his place there. Meanwhile, he's discovering that he doesn't want to marry Abby, and he must find a way to tell her this, in spite of loving her. He simply realizes that he is not meant to marry her.

This movie has a predictably large number of laughs and Burbiglia's narration throughout the movie has a distinct charm and humor. It would be easy to overlook some of the deeper meaning of this movie. This movie is really about finding meaning, purpose and calling. Matt doesn't know who he is and feels the need to discover this before he inexorably links his life to someone else. 

Maybe my favorite moment of "Sleepwalk With Me" is the narrator's explanation of love. He says that everyone has a secret special skill and that love is when someone else recognizes that and brings it out in you. While a simplistic analysis, I find it very appealing. When someone knows you well and deeply enough to see that uniqueness about you, and they make that stronger, that is love.

It's a great movie, but not one to see in a theater. You'll enjoy it much more if you rent it with a large group of friends.

Finding North

The title "Finding North" refers to our country's moral compass, which has gone awry according to this well produced documentary. This film exposes an often unseen problem in our society: hunger. 

We are prone to thinking that hunger only strikes sub-Saharan Africa (as the film points out) but it is pervasive within our own country. 1 in 6 Americans do not have enough to eat; 50 million deal with "food insecurity," which is defines as not knowing where your next meal may come from.

This is obviously a complex issue. The film does an excellent job of humanizing the various kinds of people, both urban and rural, who deal with this problem. They cover a great deal of ground, including examining how our country's rising rate of obesity is deeply connected to hunger. In essence, unhealthy calories are cheapest. When living on a budget, chips and cookies are cheaper tummy-fillers than fruit.

"Finding North" proposes that this is a governmental issue, as we our government primarily subsidizes the ingredients in processed foods but not fresh fruit. 

This film is challenging and extremely frustrating. It spends a great deal of time examining the lack of quantity and health of food available to children and it's appalling to see that so many of our children are hungry when our nation is so prosperous. 

I suppose I have two reflections on this film. The first is that I think it tries to do too much. It appears to me that with every new thing they learned about this issue (such as obesity being linked to hunger) they discovered several more issues. While there is some great information in this film, it doesn't seem to have any kind of narrative direction. It does a great job presenting lots of information but does not seem to arrive anywhere. My second thought comes out of that: I found myself disturbed but without direction. While I'm angry about such injustice, I don't know where to direct that. It is not the filmmakers' responsibility to provide me with that direction, but they document others' attempts to fix this with no avail. I don't expect them to provide me with a simple process or way to get involved, but the movie left me despairing that nothing can be done. While I leave feeling informed, I also feel helpless and therefore infuriatingly apathetic.

Robot and Frank

I heard that this one got picked up by a studio, so you can expect to see it in theaters sometime this year. 

If I had to summarize this one, I'd say it's a buddy/heist movie. Frank Langella is an aging cat burglar who is given a caregiver robot because his memory is slowly leaking away. There is a heartbreaking opening scene that watches Frank break into a home, looking for valuables. While ransacking the house, he sees a picture of himself there and realizes that he has been breaking into his own home. This endeared me to Frank, as I found myself lamenting his lack of control. 

This sets the stage for Frank's loneliness, which is the most prominent theme in the movie. Frank is a 30 year divorcee who has painful relationships with his children due to his past prison time. Because he is so distant from everyone in his life, it is fitting that a robot slowly becomes his friend. It would seem that two cold individuals would pair well together, but the robot is actually the more human of the two. Frank is harsh and inconsiderate while the robot's primary function is Frank's health. The robot's care for Frank softens him some, in a fashion re-humanizing Frank.

Without spoiling too much, I will tell you that Frank convinces the robot to participate in a heist, giving Frank's life some much needed purpose again. Keep your eyes peeled for hints of belonging (as opposed to loneliness) as well as the metaphor in the robot's garden…I promise that will make sense when you see it.

The downside of this movie is that it has a taste of wrapping up too neatly. I think it would have finished better if its ending were a little less Hollywood. There are a few things that go unexplained and the audience is left with filling in the gaps of how we got there, because it doesn't seem to finish there naturally. I would have preferred a more disheartening ending, as that seems to fit Frank's character.

Father's Chair

Father's Chair tells the story of a workaholic father who has been far too distant for far too long and finds himself about to be divorced and at odds with his teenage son. The son decides to run away, prompted by the mysterious arrival of a chair from his estranged grandfather. Theo (the father) is infuriated that his dad would send a gift when he was so distant from Theo's life. 

This creates a mirror that gradually becomes wiped clean so that Theo can see that he has done the same to his own son; he has not been there enough and has communicated a lack of care.

Because this film is about Theo's self-discovery, it's ripe with the theme of redemption. By far the most poignant scene comes while Theo is on the road searching for his son Pedro and he comes across a pregnant girl who has seen the boy. She goes into labor and being a doctor, Theo delivers the child by a river. This is a profound moment where Theo seemingly forgets the search for his son and shows compassion. With the baby safe, he kneels by the riverside and strips before entering the water. He dunks himself and rises slowly before floating. This imagery of birth and rebirth create the pivotal moment of change within Theo. He shows a change that indicates he wants to avoid the mistakes of his own father.

While the culmination of the film is beautiful and well done, I found it to be a slow and fairly uninteresting film. It comes across as trying too hard and forcing its point. The pivotal scene of rebirth is fitting for the movie, but a bit heavy handed. The movie had zero subtlety and was often overacted. At many points I sat there wondering why almost everyone Theo came across was suspicious of his intentions and unwilling to help him find his son. The movie felt unrealistic and false. All in all, skip this one and watch Return of the Jedi…it has a much better father/son reconciliation.

5 Broken Cameras

5 Broken Cameras is a brilliant film, a documentary begun with no purpose other than to capture the events in a small Palestinian village called Bil'in. The director, Emad, purchased a video camera to film his youngest son's development but quickly begins to record a passive resistance uprising within his home. Israel is moving further into Palestinian land and building complexes for what are termed "settlers," Israelis who are looking for homes in which to live.

The title comes from the events over the course of five years in which his camera is destroyed five times, forcing him to purchase a new one. On two occasions, the camera is destroyed by gunfire, likely saving his life both times. 

I loved this documentary because it seemed the most honest of many films I've seen. Very often, filmmakers set out with a purpose in mind to communicate with their footage. Not so Emad. He filmed hundreds of hours of footage for several years before realizing what he had on his hands. He presents what seems to me to be an incredibly unbiased view of what occurs in his village.

One of my favorite moments comes in a time of despair for Bil'in. They are attempting to regain their land and getting nowhere in their resistance; meanwhile, many of them have been injured and killed by Israeli soldiers. Emad arranges a screening of his footage within his village and his narration indicates that this unites them and draws them closer. I found this a profound statement about the nature of film as a shared experience. Certainly they were particularly drawn to it because it is a narrative of their own home, but I think there is something to be said for how film connects us.

There was a facet of this film that I found intriguing. It appears to me that Emad, while taking on the role of documenter, uses his camera to insulate himself from the harsh reality surrounding him. Of course, he is vitally present in it, coming close to death on multiple occasions. But I wonder whether or not his camera was the thing that gave him the hope to carry on.

While this film has potential to be very political, I think it is worth watching. Regardless of your opinion of the political situation between Israel and Palestine and whose land it is, watching this movie will enrage you when you see the deep injustice of how they are treated. As my friend says, I don't want to be pro-Israel or pro-Palestine, I want to be pro-people. This film should shock you into movement on behalf of the oppressed. Absolutely find a way to see this one.

Middle of Nowhere

This week I'm in Utah at the Sundance Film Festival, and I'll be posting my thoughts on each film I see. Here's the first one!


This was a beautiful film. The lead, Emayatzy Corinealdi, is in almost every shot and she has a powerful, vulnerable presence. This is her first film and she holds your attention like a veteran actress.

The story this film tells is a fascinating one that walks through a brief season of Ruby and her husband Derek's lives. It opens with Derek in prison for a gun charge and Ruby putting her medical career on hold in order to be available to their relationship. Early on, we see Ruby as a willing sacrifice on the altar for the benefit of their marriage. 

However, in the course of the film, it becomes apparent that this is not fully a healthy love between the two. More and more, Ruby's character reveals that she has a problem with codependency. Initially, she appears selfless in her desire to babysit for her single parent sister; as the film progresses, it seems that she needs to be needed. There is some hint at this in her chosen profession as a nurse. She desires to help others but it is fulfilling a need within her to be needed.

In many ways, this film is about Ruby waking up to the truth of herself and her situation. She comments at one point that she knew these things about her situation, but refused to acknowledge it. She says, "I wasn't blind." This scene is a pivotal moment for her into taking responsibility solely for herself. Late in the movie, Ruby says "We are caught between the expectations of what should be and what is." She comes to grips with what she thought life was going to be contrasted with what it truly is in this stage.

One of the ideas in this film is how loving from far away. The geographical and situational distance between Ruby and her husband is deep and has an impact on their ability to be in relationship with one another. It makes me wonder, what's our ability to love one another from far away? I got the opportunity to pose this question to the brilliant director, Ava DuVernay. She responded, "All things are possible with love. Proximity doesn't matter. It's about connection." I thought this was a profound statement of hope, particularly in light of the relational challenge we see in Middle of Nowhere.

Apart from story, this film has two incredibly strong points. The music is one of the highlights. The style is varied and perfectly suited to every scene; I found myself being swept up into the moment because of the score. The second item is the cinematography. The shots were wonderfully long, giving the audience an opportunity to dwell in the emotion of the moment. The camera moves ever so slightly in important moments, giving me the impression that I was there observing the moment and not just watching it on a screen.

An excellent movie and one worth watching; I recommend finding a way to see it.