OLD JOY

OLD JOY
Directed by Kelly Reichardt

What is Americana? We tend to associate it with things that are unique to our own culture- baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, Chevrolets, etc.. But what these things are in fact are elements of nostalgia, of a period of American life that was perceived to be better, more pure, more altruistic. more principled. Americana is, in actuality, a representation of what constitutes us as people, and while this includes the aforementioned nostalgic items, it also includes our despairs, our desires, and those things which have become marginalized and deemed as unimportant to the fabric of our existence. Perhaps then the best description of Americana is the segment of life that the American Dream has either passed by or forgot. It is those people and cultural tenants that live amongst us, but never really with us.

Kelly Reichardt's OLD JOY is the proverbial slice of Americana, a quiet but never lazy account of marginalized Americans who seek something outside of the base provisions that our country has to offer. It puts forth the assertion that when all has been provided, is that where true happiness lies? Or is there more we must seek out?

Set in Portland, Oregon, the story begins with Mark (Daniel London), a early thirtysomething who sits in his yard meditating while his very pregnant wife blends up a green shake that is probably a lot more healthy than it looks appetizing. Mark receives a phone call from Kurt, an old friend whom he hasn't seen in ages. Kurt offers Mark a trip to relax before the birth of his child, and proposes a hike to the Cascade Mountains, where a natural spring can be found. Mark accepts, and despite the apprehensions of his wife, sets out with his dog Lucy to join Kurt in an overnight excursion into Oregon's wilderness.

Kurt (brilliantly played by folk musician Will Oldham of Palace Music and Bonnie "Prince" Billie fame) is a bit of a mess when we meet him. Disheveled, carefree and devoid of direction, his life could not be more different from that of his friend. Mark has a roof over his head, a Volvo, a job and a pregnant wife at home. He is the archetype of the American lifestyle, one based in comfort and surroundings of things that add value to life. In the initial conversations between Kurt and Mark, we see hints of a past that was genuinely fun and carefree, of regaling in the spontaneity of youth and youthful exuberance. While it is never said, it is implied that Mark has moved on to adulthood, and Kurt remains in limbo, wandering the boundaries of maturity.

Kurt and Mark pack up the Volvo and drive out to the woods. In the background we hear the chatter of talk radio, of questions of the state of the nation, elections, and bipartisan politics. The radio fades as the men reach the woods, replaced by the aimless guitar pickings on the soundtrack by Yo La Tengo. The music, coupled with the stunning surroundings of the Pacific Northwest, create a dream landscape that is beautiful beyond words. Cinematographer Peter Sillen's camera drinks up the colours of the forest, spilling multitudes of shades of green, yellows and browns across the screen, offset by a crystalline blue sky. This film contains some of the most striking visuals I've seen since Thomas Riedelsheimer's RIVERS AND TIDES and Ron Fricke's BARAKA.

Kurt smokes a lot of weed and talks of contentment, of commitment, of times past and regrets for having lost touch with Mark. Mark is reserved, still feeling out what his friend has become, and he is still tied via cell phone to a busy life back home. Mark's wife periodically calls and makes sure everything is ok, and she is a constant reminder of Mark's domestic bliss and imprisonment. This is a quietly surprising element, especially considering the director of OLD JOY is a woman.

Kurt and Mark amble and talk, they get lost and they learn more about one another. Ultimately the spring is found, and Kurt reveals a truth that is both subtle and devastating. The men return home, changed, but still with some sense of purpose, for better or worse.

There have been many critics of this film, calling it listless and droning, but I would contend that they are stuck in their definitions of Americana. This is an America that they would prefer not to see, populated with people who want to get away and who seek something other than the nice car, the big house, the 2.5 kids and a garage. The men in OLD JOY do not, in the eyes of classical Americana, represent success. But they are smart people, and they are kind people, and what they seek is that which no amount of material or marital success can buy: a sense of self worth.

I simply loved this movie. It reminded me of my friends that I have lost and lost touch with, and made me think about how I remember those fond memories with these people. It made me think of a meeting I had with an old friend whom I had grown up with since I was a toddler. We went to college together, and while on campus we started to grow distant. After graduation we rarely saw each other again. He got married early and had kids, and I recently saw him again at my wedding.

It was awkward talking to him. We spent almost an hour rekindling fond memories of when we were kids- the stupid games we played, the first time we saw a naked woman on television, the basketball tournaments we entered, etc.. Those were good times. We tried desperately to rebuild that level of fun and communication that we once had, but it was proving quite difficult. He had changed. I had changed. Our world views had changed. He was a father. He'd become conservative, myself quite liberal. I thought to myself that if I were to meet him as a stranger today, I probably wouldn't be his friend, he probably would think the same of me. But we still loved each other. He was still my childhood friend, and I know I could still trust him, and he could trust me. But it just wasn't there. It felt hollow and empty.

Some time after the wedding I thought about my meeting with my friend. I called him and was honest with him, and said maybe we shouldn't try to rekindle what we had in the past. Maybe we should celebrate instead what we've become. My friend, always intelligent, always thoughtful, said it was a great idea. We still didn't have anything to talk about, but a tremendous weight was lifted off our shoulders. We could go on with our lives.

Watching OLD JOY was a revelation of that particular moment, encapsulated within lyrical and visual poetry so profound and subtle that it seeped into every facet of my mind and body. Do not listen to the detractors who call this film slow or hardly engaging- on the contrary, the film is constantly with us, beside us, inside us, pulling and pushing us for answers. We see in these two men the naked truth, the interactions with our friends and loved ones we want and ought to have.

The film's genius is in its ability to say so much with so little. The best example of this comes in a poetic allegory told by Kurt. He recalls a meeting with an old East Indian woman, who leaves him with one poignant line, a line that defines our love-hate relationship with our past:

"Sorrow is nothing but old joy."

We want things to be the way they used to be. In the comfort of our mother's arms. When someone always was there to take care of you. When you cried, there was a shoulder to lean upon. Somewhere along the line, we lost that. Everyone does. But many few of us have actually moved on. We pine for something that had a time and a place, and live with the frustration and hope that we will feel those comforts again. We can, but only in a different incarnation. It will never be the same, but cherish those memories for what they were.

In the final shots of OLD JOY we see Kurt wandering aimlessly about Portland. We don't know what he's up to, but it doesn't matter. One look at his actions and you know he is making a transition- for the better or worse, that is for us to decide. But it will never be like it used to be. Nothing in our lives ever is.

OLD JOY is available on DVD.

P.S. It is worthy to note that OLD JOY was made on a budget of $30,000. Thus proving that cinema can achieve stunning visuals and compelling stories by sheer virtuosity and practical application of intelligence and eye. In the age when the average Hollywood film costs in excess of $65 million to make, OLD JOY is a reminder of where the true equity in cinema is to be found.