Kiss the Sky (1998) from Johnny Web (Uncle Scoopy; Greg Wroblewski) and Tuna |
One thumb hesitantly up from Scoop, one
convincingly down from Tuna.
Scoop's note in white: The Robbins Recipe: The Beach meets The Over-The-Hill Gang Since modern medical science extended our life-spans and created a period of "middle age" for us, the greatest problem of that part of life has been its vulnerability to an attack of the crazies. You wake up one morning, and you question everything that you've done. Maybe you're a great success, by the typical standards of society, but you question the value of those successes. You get a longing for a time in your life when you were living closer to the edge, when everything was new, when you still had your ideals, and a full lifetime ahead to realize them. When you remember what your dreams were, you become acutely aware of how few of them you did realize, and you then become aware that you got distracted by day-to-day life, which offered some detours. You took the detours, they gradually became your new road, and you never even realized it. |
I suppose this phenomenon, although
prevalent in all modern generations and probably in all
developed societies, has had an unusually intense
psychological impact on my generation, because our youths
were so full of violent rebellion, freedom from societal
constraints, and being on the leading edge of change,
ultimately exercising more cultural power than our own
parents. In that crazy 1968-74 period, we experienced something the the guys before us never had. Instead of crushing us under the weight of conformity, adults started copying us, believing us, changing their own lives because of us. We first began to realize our power on the night LBJ announced he wouldn't run again. Damn, our silly little protests kicked a president out of office. Then the rules started changing in every way. From global issues like minority rights to petty matters like campus rules, the times, they really were a-changin'. |
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Then the adults
started co-opting our speech, clothing, and drugs. Middle
aged guys would flash the peace sign and ask you for a
doobie. What a trip. It was a wild and heady ride, I tell
you, to be steering the cultural ship at that age instead of just
sitting in a passenger seat waiting for some destination.
It all culminated when another U.S. president,
resignation in hand, left office in humiliation and
disgrace. And so it ended. That was the end of it for the mainstream of our generation. Except for a few idealistic stragglers, we set down our protest signs, and in time we traded in our VW campers for Porsches, and most of us created a nest not very different from the one in which our parents had raised us. As I said earlier, every generation of youth loses its ideals, so there's no great story in that, but we sure seemed to fall from a greater height to a greater depth. The sheer vertical drop of that fall seemed to us to be tragic at Aristotelian levels. That's melodramatic, but that's how it felt. Such was our generation's inflated estimation of our own place on the planet. And that's what this movie is all about. Two guys "have it all", and they can't breathe. So they seek to recapture their youthful passion by adventures, exploration, experimental relationships, mysticism, whatever it takes. The movie doesn't really reach any conclusions. One of the guys returns to his job and family, still confused, with one foot still out the door. The other guy ends up in a Buddhist monastery, not knowing where his next road will lead. The ending is unsatisfactory, unless you believe that the journey itself is the destiny. That may be true and real, but it doesn't make for a very good movie ending. I think that if you are now a prosperous, white, middle aged former student radical or wild child, you'll see a lot of yourself in this film. I don't know if the movie is any good. Probably not, because it's only a couple of years old, was produced with a substantial $6 million budget by a major studio in exotic Philippine locations, and yet was totally buried by the studio that produced it. |
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I can't
find any record of a theatrical release, or even a cable
showing, and it took two years to get to DVD. Yet I liked
it and was fascinated by it. It is so close to the bone
for me that I enjoyed watching it, in a painful and
depressing sort of way. If you are from my generation, it
will ring some familiar chords, and the sounds will be
amplified by the growling, despairing, music of Leonard
Cohen. You guys from other generations? Well, MGM didn't seem to think it was much good - what else can I tell you? |
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Tuna's
thoughts in yellow:
Kiss the Sky is billed as
a romance, but it is more of a buddy movie about two men going through
male menopause. The only thing they really suffer from is a total lack
of self awareness, but they blame their life, their families, and
society for the fact that swallowing prescription drugs is the only
thing that keeps them from committing suicide. The solution? Go to the
Philippines together for a business deal, travel to a remote spot, have
a three way with Sheryl Lee, and then finally realize that maybe they
are responsible for who they are. If male menopause is your idea of a good time, here is 105 minutes entirely devoted to it. |
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