As Denise already knows, I have recently taken a considerable liking to all things documentary. I mean, it’s always been there – but recently, my love for non-fiction has multiplied exponentially. This has resulted in hours upon hours of my life being devoted to obscure yet fascinating topics. Call me maybe crazy, but I think sometimes this is how I make up for not being in school anymore. I don’t have a strong desire to pursue another degree yet, but I still am fascinated by the exploration of new or different knowledge, and I like to think that I do more than just read Suri’s Burn Book highly intellectual material on a daily basis.
So what’s been on my playlist recently? I’m so glad you asked! Here, let me give you my unsolicited documentary reviews:
One week, my friend Steve asked what I had done the previous weekend. I told him that Denise and I spent Saturday night watching a movie about the home-birthing movement, including detailed footage of Ricki Lake giving birth. In her bathtub.
I thought he was going to vomit, but he was too busy picking his jaw up off the ground to do that.
And thus began the documentary journey (which Denise has accompanied me on for a good portion of the way). The Business of Being Born is actually a great example of why I have been enthralled with documentaries – sometimes they are a bit one-sided, a bit intense, a bit opinionated – but they often expose you to a completely new topic or way of thinking. For me, I had always assumed that giving birth meant hospitals and epidurals and the worst pain of your life (that I used to openly wish I would black out through). This film focused on the experience of birth, good and bad, and how different women elect different ways to plan how they want to experience the time with their child. Directly afterward, swooning from the descriptions of unique bonding and euphoric accomplishment that comes from having a home birth (plus a lot of wine), I was convinced that I, too, could give birth in my bathtub one day, while happily munching on granola and doing hynobirthing breathing techniques with my hip-yet-financially-stable-enough-to-provide-a-very-plush-version-of-this-experience-and-completely-emotionally-comfortable-with-witnessing-me-drop-a-baby-out husband. In the weeks since, I have definitely scaled back a bit on these expectations and desires for a birth experience (or having one at all). But yes, I do have a new appreciation for how giving birth is more than just a means to an end.
This was no surprise. You think New York is crazy. You think parents in New York are crazy. You think children in New York are crazy. You think Americans will pay for anything. You think that the pressure to attend the right school is starting earlier than ever. This confirms everything. Denise and I were riveted/disgusted/shocked.
Next up in our Netflix cue was this film about the mass games in North Korea. Denise gets credit for finding this one – and I get demerits for not even knowing what the mass games were before seeing this. Being that it’s the Olympics season right now, this does seem pretty appropriate in contrast (pardon the poor quality video):
I will never eat chicken again. Actually, that is a lie. But really, I will never, ever eat non-organic meat ever again. I had one chicken nugget the other week and literally had to choke back my gag reflex. Anyone who knows me well, knows that my ridiculous sugar addiction will never wane, even with dark and twisty truths about high fructose corn syrup that I now know. But I have become a full-fledged, unabashed Whole Foods snob.
(and thankfully, Whole Foods carries organic jelly beans.)
Who knew that fonts were so complex and fascinating? (okay, maybe the rest of the world knew, and I’m just an ignorant handwriting snob that’s more concerned with the lost art of cursive). I was in NYC this past weekend, and I’m still surprised my friend didn’t hurt me by the end of it for pointing out fonts to her every 1/2 block. Afterward, I also felt much more justified for judging a resume that I once received at work written entirely in Comic Sans (aka the ancient font of angst-ridden, 90s-era tween AIM profiles).
Confession: I fell asleep during the second half of this. But not before I developed a whole new appreciation for street art, and got outside of my bubble of just thinking it was a bunch of hooligan vandals.
Somehow, I convinced my friend to wake up early and go see this yesterday morning at the Lincoln Center with me. And yes – it was SO worth it, especially to see it in the center of such a national magnet for the arts and performance. Although it picks up some fairly stereotypical characters to follow (incredibly wealthy family, helicopter parents, token African orphan refugee), it was incredibly riveting, and the performances were mesmerizing. I have never been coordinated enough to even consider dance, but the expression and emotion conveyed through these stories are accessible to many an audience member.
the most adorably talented 9 year olds ever. I hope they get together and have babies (in 15 years)
Although a friend actually convinced me to go see this, and I had never really listened to the band before (friend, don’t hate me)… it was remarkably enjoyable, beyond the fact that half the content was LCD Soundsystem’s last concert. The film follows the lead singer the morning after he ended the group, on good terms, with a final performance in Madison Square Garden. Normally, when I go to concerts or experience something HUGE, the moment engulfs me and I consider the fact that a unique group has assembled at one moment and one place for a specific cause or celebration or purpose… but often, I don’t think about the what’s next component.
Maybe this is me reading wayyyy too into it (actually, this is definitely reading way too into it), but I think the film addresses that uncomfortable limbo after any climactic event – the incredible investment in the present, the here-and-now, the right-here thrill.. it leaves you reeling afterward. It changes you, but then you are left alone to work through and process that change. There’s an innate sense of what’s next? Maybe I thought more into this because I didn’t have as much investment in the actual characters and band on the screen, but SUAPTH made me think about a lot of other life things as a result. You know those life things – weddings, graduation, moving, accidents, fights, races, wins, losses, births, deaths…
{insert stereotypical juxtapositions of scenarios and universally shared experiences here}
There are these moments when it feels as though the world is around you. Brought together by a mutually shared experience and emotion. And then you wake up the next day… and what’s next?
beat that, life.
Recently my friend shared with me that while attending the wedding of a childhood friend, [the groom] had told her that although he was excited for the wedding day, and for the days that would follow with his new wife, he already looked toward the future and wondered: what’s left? what’s next? The next morning he would wake up and be married; the celebration would be over, his wife had already given birth to their first child – these big life moments would fade into the background and what was left was seemingly ordinary. Just like the lead singer of LCD Soundsystem, he would wake up the morning after a final chapter of sorts. It didn’t end badly, in fact it was one hell of a party. But the new phase of his life he was about to begin was one huge blank canvas, and it was up to him to decide each day what he wanted to do next, and how he wanted that canvas to look. That’s an exciting thing to look forward to, but there’s also uncertainty – if everything is great up to that point, will it continue in greatness? Will it get even better? What if you mess it up? Did you pick the right things to do with your time? The sense of opportunity is at the same time thrilling and terrifying.
what if all that awaits is walking your dog?
Sometimes I think this is where the millennial generation encounters their creation of the quarter life crisis. For a generation that has pushed to achieve so much and experience seemingly endless worlds of opportunity, is there a limit to all of this? Does the increased opportunity mean that we reach the end of our limits faster? What happens when you have to start over? We build and build, racing forward until we can reach no further – and then it ends. And we are left the morning after with just ourselves, our thoughts, and hopefully someone else to share the next journey with.
So that’s enough of that for the day, since my light documentary reviews turned into a beast of thoughts instead. Did you know it’s National Cheesecake Day? I’m off to eat some cheesecake!
PS: This is up next on my watch list!
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