Category Archives: Comedy

Little Women (2019), directed by Greta Gerwig

Parenting is never finished. As I get older, and I am now a grandfather, I still want to parent my children. The Talmud tells us that one of the obligations of a parent is to teach your child how to swim. Most of the commentators interpret to mean that parents should teach them how to swim through life, and kids sometimes need guidance even when they are older. From time to time, I have conversations with my older children in which I share experiences from my own life that I think may help them. Here is one example.

Several months ago, I had a restless sleep dreaming about a decision I made perhaps twenty years ago. I realized that I made the decision without consulting others because I felt I knew all the possible repercussions of that decision. But years later, I realized that my decision was okay but not the best one I could have made. I decided to share that experience with one of my children and, thereby, give him a useful tool for navigating his own life.

I told him that even when you get older and are successful, it is still prudent and wise to consult with people older and wiser than you to get their perspective on a situation. It is a mistake to think that you know it all and forget to take advantage of the wisdom of others. Always, if at all possible, seek out mentors and seek parental wisdom.

This happens in Little Women, the most recent film iteration of Louisa May Alcott’s classic about four sisters reared in Concord, Massachusetts. All of the sisters are very different from one another, but they are bound closely by strong feelings of familial love. Jo is a teacher and wants to be a published author in a male-dominated world. Amy’s interest is in painting, and she wants to be a great artist. Meg wants to be married, and Beth is enthralled by music as she plays the piano. Into this family enters Laurie, the grandson of their neighbor and very much a free spirit. Together, they discuss their hopes and aspirations for the future.

The real guiding light of the family is Marmee, the mother, who by example teaches them the important values of life. While her husband is serving with the Union army in the Civil War, she maintains the home front. Even when food is scarce, she encourages her daughters to give their meager breakfast to their poor neighbor Mrs. Hummel and her starving children. At moments of crisis, she unites with her children in prayer, stressing that one’s connection with the Almighty can enable one to survive adversities.

Moreover, Marmee gives her older girls good advice that is transformative at times. For example, Jo shares with her mother her disappointment with herself: “What is wrong with me? I’ve made so many resolutions and written sad notes and cried over my sins, but it just doesn’t seem to help. When I get in a passion I get so savage I could hurt anyone and I’d enjoy it.” Marmee’s response: “You remind me of myself. I’m angry nearly every day of my life. I’m not patient by nature, but with nearly forty years of effort I’m learning to not let it get the better of me.” Upon hearing Marmee’s honest appraisal of her own response to anger, Jo tells her, “I’ll do the same, then.” This serves as a classic example of good parenting. Marmee recognizes Jo’s feelings and does not deny them. She, instead, looks for a way in which to correct Jo constructively and sweetly so that she is better prepared to deal with adversity in the future.

Emuna Braverman, a Jewish educator, writes about good parenting fundamentals. Here are some of them: “The first is that we constantly need to pray. Parenting is a tough job. We need the Almighty’s help at every step of the way.

The second is that children are not blank slates or lumps of clay. They come with personalities and drives, with strengths and weaknesses. Our job is to help finely tune their qualities, to give them focus, to assist them in making the most of their strengths.”  

King Solomon tells us to “educate each child according to his way.” This aphorism reminds us that each child is different with different needs. There is no “one size fits all” parenting. We need to appreciate and respond to these differences.

Marmee in Little Women presents us with an example of good parenting. She is wise and self-effacing. She is modeling the kind of behavior that will enable her children to be successful adults, possessing both intelligence and good character. She is a person worth emulating.

Purchase this movie from Amazon.com.

The General (1926), directed by Clyde Bruckman and Buster Keaton

My parents thought I would be a doctor or a lawyer when I grew up. But things changed as I progressed through my academic journey. I did not have lots of success in science and math courses, so I gravitated towards History and English as college majors.

 I remember sitting in the office of the college counselor who was helping me choose my major. I asked in what subject could I major where I would not have to take any math courses? He answered History and English, and so I chose an academic career in History and English because I knew I would experience rejection in the sciences. From the perspective of hindsight, I have realized that lack of success in one area does not determine lack of success in another. One just has to find one’s purpose in life, one’s mission in which you can make a singular contribution.

Another story. When I came to Israel in 2010, I wanted to work. I did not come here to retire. Fortunately, I found employment at two schools in Beit Shemesh, the town where I lived. One was a high school in which I prepared students for the Bagrut, the matriculation examination that Israelis take before going into university. The other was a charedi elementary school, in which I taught basic grammar and literature to eighth graders. Since I was past the official retirement age in Israel, the schools had to get special permission from the Ministry of Education for me to teach in those schools. This worked for five years, after which I was rejected by both schools since they could no longer secure permission for me to teach. My positions had to go to younger candidates.

For a brief moment, I was disappointed. Then I realized that this rejection presented me with an opportunity to redefine myself professionally, and I became a film critic.  I first wrote reviews in American newspapers and even had a cable TV show in the US produced and directed by my friend Steve Posen. The show, called “Kosher Movies,” copied the format of the venerated “Siskel and Ebert” show on public television.

I share these vignettes because they illustrate that rejection or failure in one area of life does not mean that rejection and failure will forever be your destiny from that point on. One door may close but another door may open. Rejection may simply mean that you will make a mark in some other area of life. This is what happens to Johnnie Gray in Buster Keaton’s silent film classic, The General.

Johnnie Gray loves trains and Annabelle Lee, the girl he wants to marry. During the Civil War, he is an engineer who drives a locomotive named The General. When the Union attacks Fort Sumter, Annabelle’s father and brother enlist and Johnnie wants to serve as well. He wants to be a soldier. However, the recruiters turn him down because they feel he is more valuable to the cause if he works as an engineer. Unfortunately, they do not tell him why they say no to him; and he leaves the recruitment office disappointed, rejected by the Army and by Annabelle who sees him as a coward.

A year later, we learn that the Union develops a plan to steal Johnnie’s engine and use it to burn supply bridges that are used to transport needed material to the battle front. They successfully hijack the train and kidnap Annabelle who is still on board.

Johnnie becomes aware of what has happened and attempts to thwart their plans. His goal is to rescue Annabelle and to prevent the Union attack on the Confederacy. His efforts entail a frantic race against time to save the Confederate soldiers. In the end, Johnnie saves the day.

In hindsight, we see that his initial rejection by the recruitment officer sets the stage for his being at the scene when the locomotive is being stolen; and so Johnnie becomes a hero, getting the train back and restoring his reputation in the eyes of his beloved Annabelle. Johnnie Gray has finally found his purpose.

Rabbi Dov Heller brings a unique Jewish twist to the notion of finding one’s purpose in life: “Each of us is here to make a unique contribution to better the world. In addition to our unique personal mission, we also have a universal mission of being a light unto the nations as being part of the Jewish people. Understanding our universal and unique personal mission engenders a sense of purpose and drive; it is one of the keys to living a meaningful, energized life.

There is only one you. When you’re gone, your mold will never be used again. Judaism maintains not only is it necessary for our wellbeing to know our unique purpose, but it is an obligation to find it and actualize it.”

Johnnie Gray in The General eventually understands that he has led a successful life, precisely because he did not regard rejection as terminal. Rather, he regarded it as a prelude to finding his true purpose.

Purchase this movie from Amazon.com.

A Little Game (2014), directed by Evan Oppenheimer

I have always been fascinated by the game of chess, but I never learned to play. It seemed too complicated. If I wanted to chill out for a few moments, checkers seemed simpler and took less time. My son, Elie, however, took to the game and played on our high school team with great success. Indeed, our school team, coached by a parent whose son was a chess star, won many tournaments. Even though I did not play chess, the image of our school in the community rose because of our involvement in chess competition. Which is why I was captivated by A Little Game, a story about a young girl who learns how to play chess from a master.

Max is a very bright ten-year old girl living in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of New York City. Although happy in her present school, her parents want to give her the very best education, and so decide to enroll her in a prestigious all-girls private school on the Upper East Side even though it will be burdensome to them financially. Dad works as a building superintendent, and Mom is a chef at a neighborhood restaurant. Neither of them makes big salaries. 

Challenges arise in her new school. Friends do not easily connect with her, sensing she is from a lower social strata; and one, in particular, Isabella, is jealous of her academic success. Isabella even makes fun of the fact the Max does not know how to play chess, a game for intellectuals. Compounded with lack of friends is the sudden loss of her beloved grandmother who always shared with her pieces of wisdom gleaned over a lifetime.

Max’s teacher thinks Max possesses exceptional math skills and encourages her to play chess, which requires a similar kind of mathematical discipline. Every day Max walks home through Washington Square Park, and one day she comes upon one of the outdoor chess players who competes regularly against all comers. He is an elderly gentleman and his name is Norman. When Max asks Norman to teach her chess, he at first refuses. However, Max persists in asking him to teach her and eventually he agrees, but only if she learns the game from him and no other.

Norman is an unusual teacher. Instead of teaching her the rules of chess, he gives her clues that require her to be a keen observer of things in the city, and from these clues deduce chess strategy. The chessboard for Norman is not a game board. It is a metaphor for the city and each chess piece has within it a message for life. Over time, Max learns how to play chess, and, more important, she learns valuable life lessons.

Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo reflects about the Jewish fascination with chess. For many Jews, the chessboard is a microcosm of the world. To navigate chess and navigate life, one must know the rules. But knowing the rules is not enough. The rules are tools to discover new pathways of understanding that emerge only because of the “unbearable limitations” that govern the movements of the pieces. Rabbi Cardozo writes that playing chess “is mental torture, but it is the height of beauty as well. It is poetry to the game, as melody is to music — like one gentle brushstroke of Rembrandt on a colorful canvas, making everything look radically different; or like the genius musician playing her Stradivarius, re-creating the whole of Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 5. It transports the chess player to heaven.”

Rabbi Cardozo suggests that this sense of intellectual tension and contradiction is the reason why scholars of Talmud love the game of chess: “Chess reminds them, consciously or subconsciously, of the world of Talmudic halachic debate with all its intrigues, obstacles, and seemingly deliberate tendency to make life more difficult. For the true posek (halachic expert and decisor), the tension, challenge and delight involved in discovering an unprecedented solution is the ultimate simcha (joy).”

In the end, Max learns to play chess well and understands its parallels to the real world. Indeed, that “little game” opens up pathways for Max to better understand the big game of life itself.

Purchase this movie from Amazon.com.

The Little Dictator (2015), directed by Nurith Cohn

 In 1966-67, I spent the year in Israel studying at a Haredi/ultra-Orthodox Yeshiva. All the rabbis had beards and I decided to grow one as well. I wore a suit jacket every day to the Yeshiva even when it was very hot. It was a uniform in which I felt very comfortable.

When I returned to the States at the end of my year in Israel, I began to feel a dissonance between the way I looked and my religious environment in the US. My teachers in the US were devout and knowledgeable, but they did not have beards. I asked one of them why he did not have a beard. He told me that he felt he could fulfill his Torah teaching mission more easily in America if he were not bearded. A beard for him separated him from his students and he did not want that to happen. The Little Dictator, a short but compelling film, deals with the consequences of shaving off one’s beard. It is a simple tale, both humorous and possessing a profound message.

Yossi Kleinmann teaches history at a local university. His specialty is the study of totalitarian leaders. His students barely pay attention to his boring lectures. On the 90th birthday of his wife’s grandmother, a Holocaust survivor, he is asked to deliver a word of Torah at the Friday evening Sabbath meal.

His wife asks Yossi to shave his beard before the Sabbath, and he begins to shave with only a short window of time before dusk when Jewish law forbids shaving. Ultimately, he does not have enough time to finish and he is only partially shaven. What he looks like, I cannot say because the spoiler will ruin your enjoyment and appreciation of the film. Suffice it to say that appearances often determine how people react to people, and appearances matter the most to the individual who distinguishes himself by the way he looks.

Rabbi Berel Wein, historian, writes: “There is a long tradition in Judaism for men to have beards. This is based originally on the Torah prohibition against shaving facial hair with a straight razor. Because of this prohibition, it became customary for Jewish males to wear beards and in many circles to also allow their side locks -peyot – to grow uncut.”

A beard was considered by the Talmudic sages to be “the glory of one’s face.” It marked one as being Jewish in contrast to the Catholic clergy that was always clean-shaven. However, in modern times, many Orthodox Jews stopped wearing beards, first, because of the use of depilatory compounds that were available to remove facial hair and, later, because of the invention of the electric shaver. Still, many Jews had beards because it reflected their rejection of modernity in an ever- changing and morally ambiguous contemporary world.

In The Little Dictator, shaving off a beard is consequential, but not necessarily in the way one would think. Yossi Kleinmann gives us a new understanding of facial hair as he perceives it, as his loved ones and friends perceive it, and how his wife’s grandmother perceives it. For her, facial hair on a man’s face has a very particular meaning.

Although appearances do not necessarily telegraph who a person is on the inside, they often give us a clue as to a person’s essence. I now live in Israel. When I lived in the US, I would attend synagogue with a suit, tie, and black fedora. In Israel, in my synagogue, most of the men wear white shirts sans tie, suit, and hat. That does not make them less religious than those who wear a suit and tie. It just means that they express their religiosity differently. That is not a bad thing, for God created us all with the ability to be unique. We are created in His image, but that image does not make us all alike.

The Little Dictator, a brief 28-minute film, is worth watching and thinking about. It is available on YouTube for free.

Jerry Seinfeld: “I’m Telling You for the Last Time (1998), directed by Marty Callner, and Jerry Before Seinfeld (2017), directed by Michael Bonfiglio

From 1988 to 1998, Seinfeld was one of the most successful sitcoms on television; but in the 80s and 90s, I was busy with life and never watched an episode of the popular show. A friend recently prevailed on me to watch two of his stand-up comedy concerts. One was produced soon after he ended his sitcom. The concert was entitled “I’m Telling You for the Last Time.” The second concert was entitled “Jerry Before Seinfeld” performed in 2017. Both performances impressed me. I had no desire to watch reruns of his old show, but Seinfeld’s contemporary humor delivered in his own inimitable, observational style resonated with me, especially since my roots are in New York City.

Here are some representative jokes from “I’m Telling You for the Last Time.”

On fear – “According to most studies, people’s number one fear is public speaking. Number two is death. Death is number two. Does that sound right? This means to the average person, if you go to a funeral, you’re better off in the casket than doing the eulogy. ”

On stain removal commercials – “Now they show you how detergents take out bloodstains, a pretty violent image there. I think if you’ve got a T-shirt with a bloodstain all over it, maybe laundry isn’t your biggest problem. Maybe you should get rid of the body before you do the wash.”

On milk use-by date – “Have you ever had milk the day after the date? Scares the hell out of you, doesn’t it? The spoon is trembling as it comes out of the bowl. ‘It’s after the day! I’m taking a big chance! I smelled it, you smelled it, what is it supposed to smell like? It smelled like milk to me.’ I don’t know how they’re so definite, though. Maybe the cows tip them off when they’re milking them. ‘July 3rd.’”

On ‘best man’ title – “I was best man at a wedding one time and that was pretty good. Pretty good title, I thought … ‘Best man.’ I thought it was a bit much. I thought we had the groom and the ‘pretty good man.’ That’s more than enough. If I am the best man, why is she marrying him?”

“Jerry Before Seinfeld” is a stand-up gig delivered at The Comic Strip where Seinfeld’s career began. The set is punctuated by childhood home videos and interviews with the grown-up Seinfeld on the streets of New York. Here are some choice jokes from this show:

  1. “Eventually I brought (my parents to a show) and I was so nervous that night because I was showing them this whole side of myself. It was like my little gay closet moment. I had to say, ‘Hey, Mom, Dad, I don’t know how to tell you this — I’m a funny person and I don’t want to be ashamed of it anymore. I want to lead a funny lifestyle now.'”
  2. “I’m left-handed. Left-handed people do not like that the word ‘left’ is so often associated with negative things: Two left feet, left-handed compliments, ‘What are we having for dinner?’ ‘Leftovers.’  You go to a party, there’s nobody there. ‘Where’d they go?’ ‘They left.'”
  3. “I think the biggest step in relationships is when you have a kid. You get to a point where everyone you know has caught onto you, and you have to create a new person that doesn’t know anything about you.”

What impressed me about both concerts is that his humor does not depend on sexual references or foul language. It is, as one critic said, “observational humor” delivered with intelligence and wit.

Two other takeaways: First, Jerry kept a file of all the jokes that worked for him since the 1970s when he began his career. It reminded me of my own file box listing all the books I have read since I was 13 years old. I wanted to keep track of my literary growth and accomplishments, so I kept a list of the books I read. Second, Jerry is not concerned about whether people like him. What is important is whether they like his material. Success is not about him; it is about how audiences respond to his humor. Do they genuinely find his jokes funny?

Judaism looks favorably upon humor. D.B. Estrin, a Jewish educator and author, notes that the Talmud mentions several great teachers who began their classes with a joke to create a comfortable rapport with the students.

Moreover, there are studies that indicate that laughter has the power to heal. There are therapists who serve as “medical clowns” and volunteers known as “mitzvah clowns” who work in children’s wards and senior citizen facilities. Their labor can be viewed as a form of the good deed of “visiting the sick.”

Moreover, one of the patriarchs of the Jewish people is Isaac/ Yitzchok, which in Hebrew means “he will laugh.” It is a name that signifies the importance of laughter when we confront difficulty. Humor may not eliminate or minimize the problem, but it can help us see the problem as part of our larger human journey. In that way, it enhances our perspectives and understanding of life.

The Jerry Seinfeld concert movies remind us that life is more bearable and enjoyable if we cultivate a sense of humor. Laughter, indeed, helps us navigate the many challenges that life presents.

The Peanut Butter Falcon (2019), directed by Tyler Nilson and Michael Schwartz

My sister Carol had Down Syndrome so I know a little about relating to people with that affliction. As a youngster, I would go with my mother and Carol to a Thursday night gathering for what was then referred to as “retarded” teenagers.

The event was called “Teen Town,” and there I met Carol’s friends, and, in particular, Carol’s boyfriend Sam. They were very warm and friendly and socially normal. I felt comfortable with them because their conversation was about the same things I talked and thought about. Topics included, among others, upcoming social events, sports, who was dating whom, and the movies they saw.

It was easy for me to relate to The Peanut Butter Falcon, a Huck Finn-type journey that two outsiders take, and who, in the course of their experience together, become better people in one way or another.

Zak is a 22-year-old with Down Syndrome, and an actor who actually has the Syndrome portrays him; thus, his portrayal resonates with authenticity as we observe him interacting with people of all types. He resides at an assisted living facility in North Carolina where he is cared for by Eleanor, a sensitive social worker. Zak dreams of becoming a professional wrestler, obsessively watching wrestling videos featuring his hero, Salt Water Redneck.

On one particular night, he escapes the facility with the help of Carl, an elderly resident, who feels Zak needs to be in the real world, not in an elder care environment with little stimulation of any kind. Overnight, Zak stows away on a small fishing boat belonging to Tyler, a hot-headed thief and crab fisherman, who hangs around with an assortment of lowlifes. In an argument with a couple of them, he decides to burn their fishing gear. As a result, they vengefully pursue him as he tries to elude them on his old motorboat.

Tyler does not realize that Zak is on board until they reach harbor, after which he instructs Zak to leave him. However, when Tyler witnesses a young boy taunting Zak to jump in deep water while Zak protests that he cannot swim, Tyler changes his mind about leaving Zak to fend for himself. Instead, he commits to taking Zak with him as he travels to his destination in Florida. It is an easy decision since Zak’s wrestling school destination is in the same direction.

Along the way, the pair encounters a variety of eccentric locals, one of whom baptizes Zak and gives them supplies for a rafting trip they take down a river. Throughout their journey, Tyler encourages Zak to have self-confidence, relating to him as a regular friend, not as a disabled person.

Robin A. Meltzer, parent of a Down Syndrome child, writes about the importance of relating to such a child as a person first, and as a disabled person later. Underlying her approach is the mantra: My daughter is a unique individual, not a diagnosis.

At the Passover Seder, there is the classic story of the “four sons,” all of whom can learn, but in different ways. “The son who does not know how to ask” may be emblematic of the Down Syndrome child who needs more attention than the others. The famous account of Rav Preida in the Talmud provides a vivid example of the extent to which a teacher has to extend himself for a student who has trouble comprehending things. The sage had a student who needed his lessons repeated 400 times. On one occasion, it took 800 repetitions, yet Rav Preida did not lose his patience. For such perseverance, God rewarded him with long life and life in the World-to-Come.

Moreover, it is recorded that one of the great Torah scholars of the twentieth century, the Chazon Ish, would rise in the presence of a person with Down Syndrome, considering such a person to possess an elevated soul.

Meltzer observes: “It is true that a person’s value is not determined by his or her capabilities, and that we need to appreciate the intrinsic worth of one’s soul. But at the same time, if we really valued people regardless of their limitations, we would do all we could to include those with Down Syndrome into community life. Because that is the Torah way.” The relationship between Tyler and Zak in The Peanut Butter Falcon reminds us that the friendship between the able and the disabled can be robust, satisfying, and enduring.

Purchase this movie on Amazon.com.

The Winning Season (2009), directed by James C. Strouse

Many years ago, I saw a very funny sports movie called The Bad News Bears starring Walter Matthau as the coach of a boys’ baseball team composed of untalented misfits. The narrative arc in The Winning Season is similar. The team is mediocre. The coach is a loser, and somehow he becomes a better person by working with the youngsters who bring out the best in him, all of this leading to a winning season. The concept is stale, but the treatment of this conventional story is warm and satisfying if you can tolerate the abundant profanity in the film that seems to be geared for a teen audience.

The Winning Season takes place in a small Indiana town where basketball is the main focus of the community. The girls’ team encounters challenging times when it has to find a new coach. The school principal desperately recruits his old friend Bill, a former athlete and high school coach, to coach the team.

But there are problems. Bill has a drinking problem. He also lacks people skills and offends almost everyone he meets. Moreover, he is not motivated to coach girls in spite of the fact that he presently has a lowly job bussing tables at a local restaurant. Reluctantly, Bill agrees to coach, but he is dismayed when he sees that only six girls attend practice and one has her foot in a cast.

Their first game reveals all their weaknesses. Bill accepts that reality, and proceeds to mentor them. They respond to his unconventional style and slowly begin to improve. They begin winning and advance to the sectional finals, where the girls are tested emotionally as well as physically. When one girls misses an important shot, Bill is there to remind her that the shot she missed will not be her last shot and that she still is a worthy person and athlete: “l’ve been where you are, you know? And this isn’t your last shot. Come on, l want you to get up now. Everybody come here. You played great. l want you to go in there and shake their hands, okay? Keep your chin up. There’s gonna be a lot of adversity, you know? lt’s only gonna make you stronger. You guys played a great game. Each and every one of you. l want you to feel good.”

Bill’s encouraging words reflect a Jewish approach to dealing with adversity. Rabbi Jonathan Feldman shares a story about a mother helping her daughter cope with hard times. The mother takes her daughter to the kitchen where she fills three pots with water and places them on a high flame. When the water is boiling, she puts carrots in one, eggs in another, and coffee beans in the last pot. After twenty minutes, she turns off the burners, and removes the carrots, the egg, and the coffee bean from their respective pots. She then asks the daughter what she sees. The daughter says she sees carrots, eggs, and coffee.

Her mother then explains: “Each of these objects faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.”

Rabbi Rosenfeld asks us to think about this: “Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after some trial, have I become hardened and stiff?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you.”

The Winning Season reminds us that adversity can bring out the best in us.

Purchase this movie from Amazon.com.

The Art of Racing in the Rain (2019), directed by Simon Curtis

A friend of mine has two dogs. What is unusual is that as a child, he was petrified of dogs. Yet now he is an adult and dogs are an integral part of his life. I am not sure why his attitude towards dogs changed, but it is clear every time I visit him that the dogs provide unconditional love for him, his wife, and his kids. Indeed, the dogs are a genuine part of his family.

The Art of Racing in the Rain is a dog story, but we know that every dog story is really a story about people. The title of the film is a term used by Denny, an auto racing teacher and a race driver, to describe the particular skill of controlling the car when the surface of the road is wet and unpredictable. The term is a metaphor for being able to manage the unpredictability of life. Denny says it best: “The best drivers only focus on the present.” They do not let the burdens of the past or the uncertainties of the future prevent them from moving forward.

The film opens as Enzo, an old Golden Retriever, is near death and is waiting for his owner, Denny, to come home. Denny arrives and carries Enzo out of the house. As he does so, the film’s narration begins as Enzo begins to tell the story of his life.

Denny buys Enzo as a pup and the two bond strongly. A year later, Denny marries Eve, and Enzo’s life is disrupted for a short time until he gets used to sharing Denny with his beloved Eve. Eve’s parents, Maxwell and Trish, express misgivings about Denny’s career choice, and worry when Denny and Eve start a family.

Their daughter, Zoe, gives great joy to Denny and Eve and to her parents as well. Denny, Eve, and Zoe lead idyllic lives until Eve develops brain cancer. Her love for Denny and Zoe enables her to survive for a short time, but then she succumbs to her illness.

Denny is at a crossroads. He has left his racing career to care for his cherished wife and now he has to care for his daughter. Eve’s parents go to court to gain custody of Zoe, feeling that Denny is often absent from home and unfit to take care of her. The custody battle turns ugly when Denny inadvertently knocks down Maxwell, his father-in-law, causing him to break a rib.

Throughout all of this family turmoil, Enzo stays with Denny, serving as his quiet and loyal friend. Although Enzo cannot talk, his presence is comforting to Denny, and Enzo looks forward to time after death when he thinks that he will be reincarnated as a human being.

Enzo’s thought processes are given expression in his very human observations of his owner and the world around Denny. Judaism generally considers dogs as not having a soul like that of a human being; but, according to some Kabbalistic sources, dogs do go to “heaven,” and live some kind of afterlife.

Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin, a noted Jewish educator, writes: “while they are different from humans, animals too have souls that live on and can be elevated. This idea presents us with an enormous responsibility in our interactions with the animal kingdom. After all, the animal’s elevation in the afterlife can be dependent upon our positive interactions with it.”

Enzo probably would have a great life in the hereafter because of his interactions with his loyal and kind owner Denny. Their easy rapport with one another underpins a deep relationship between human and dog, a relationship in which Enzo gives emotional support to his owner who has endured the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”

It is interesting to note that the Hebrew word for dog is kelev, which is a contraction of the words kol lev, meaning “a full heart.” The good dog is the one who is loyal, serving us with a full heart, reducing our stress and supporting us through tough times.

Purchase this movie from Amazon.com.

Robot and Frank (2012), directed by Jake Schreier

A friend of mine recently wrote a book about his move to Israel and the many challenges he faced as a senior citizen in transitioning from one culture to another. As a senior, he felt a need to be productive, but his body told him that he could no longer function as a young man. However, he could use his memory and imagination to document his recent experiences, which he felt would be useful to seniors contemplating aliyah, emigrating to Israel.

I, too, found myself in a similar position. After teaching in Israel for five years, the Ministry of Education said I could teach no longer since I was well past the official retirement age. I was compelled, therefore, to find another way to earn money. And so I became a film critic, writing reviews for print media and on the Internet that connected Torah and secular culture. My role models were Abraham and Moses, biblical heroes who never retired, and twentieth century Torah luminaries like Rabbis Joseph Soloveitchik and Moshe Feinstein, who never stopped teaching Torah.

Robot and Frank deals with the same issue that my friend and I experienced: how to be relevant as a senior citizen when you are no longer working a traditional job. Frank is a retiree living alone. His son, Hunter, who lives in a different city, tries to take care of him long distance, but it is difficult; so Hunter gives his dad a gift of a robot caretaker as a full-time companion who will serve both an aide and as a friend of sorts.

At first Frank does not want the robot; but over time they become buddies and Frank recognizes its value to him, particularly in regard to giving him an opportunity to use a skill set that he used as a young man. Frank, in fact, was a cat burglar who served prison time. Stealing gave him an emotional high and now he wants to experience this feeling again. He convinces the robot, who has no independent sense of morality, to assist him in his nefarious plans. For the robot, helping Frank regain a sense of self is technically therapeutic.

Things get more complicated as Frank begins to show signs of dementia. Interestingly, the book he enjoys reading at this time of his life is Cervantes’ classic Don Quixote, a story of a man out of touch with reality. It is only Quixote’s loyal companion, Sancho Panza, who enables him to function in a world that sees him as an anachronism. So it is that Robot enables Frank to remain meaningfully connected to the modern world.

As his robberies become more bold, the authorities begin to investigate and Frank becomes a suspect because of his past criminal record. Whether he goes to prison or a nursing home facility ultimately depends on the police retrieving information from the robot, who, although only a machine, has become humanlike, so much like a human that Frank is reluctant to wipe out his memory even when Robot reminds him, “I’m not a real person, Frank.”

Robot and Frank is a comedy, but it is also a serious meditation on aging. How will we deal with the inevitable transition from youth to old age, when our bodies will no longer work like they did when we were young? With what will we occupy our time? How will we find a sense of meaning and purpose when society marginalizes the elderly? The film provides no answers, but suggests that it is important to stay busy, to find an outlet for our creativity, and to use our imagination and our memory to inspire us as we get older.

 

Purchase this movie from Amazon.com.

Sun Dogs (2017), directed by Jennifer Morrison

My oldest sister, Carol, had Downs Syndrome. She was always smiling and willing to help around the house. When she spoke, there was not a trace of artifice. She could never lie and whatever she said came from the heart.

From time to time, I would wonder what was Carol’s mission on earth? She obviously was very limited mentally, yet she had a knack of bringing out the best in others. I thought that perhaps, from the aspect of eternity, her mission was to make better anyone who had the good fortune to know her, to make that person more sensitive, more caring about other people, and more grateful for their own mental health. An encounter with Carol left the other person feeling blessed and appreciative about leading a normal life.

Finding one’s mission in life is the subject of Sun Dogs, a dramedy about Ned Chipley, a mentally challenged young man who wants to join the Marines. He sees his mission in life as saving lives, but he lacks the intellectual ability to actually serve in the armed forces. When he visits the Marine recruiting office, Master Sgt. Jenkins is reluctant to tell Ned that he does not qualify for soldiering. Instead, he tells Ned that he is needed on the home front to search for secret terrorists cells in civilian locations. In this way, Ned will function as a secret operative. Ned takes this charge very seriously.

Sgt. Jenkins gives Ned a deck of cards with pictures of the leading terrorists in the world. This becomes Ned’s “to-do” list as he searches out suspicious individuals who look like people depicted in his deck of cards.

Although Ned’s behavior is strange and idiosyncratic, he does listen to people who offer advice. He may be intellectually slow, but he does pay attention to the voice of others and gleans wisdom from them. For example, after he tells a friend that he feels his life’s mission is to save lives, the friend gives him mathematical proof that, over a span of ten years, 3000 people jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, and Ned may have an opportunity to prevent those tragedies. It is a story he does not forget.

Almost all the characters in the film are decent. There are no villains, and most of the people are kind and sensitive to Ned’s disabilities and his mistakes in judgment. They, too, are flawed, but not in a terminal sense. They are on their own journeys to figure out the purpose of their own lives. They are good people who simply want more out of life. A seminal line, repeated at several points in the narrative, is that “everybody needs a purpose.” In Sun Dogs, we witness the decisions people make to define for themselves a worthy mission in life.

Jewish teachings encourage people to consider what is their mission in life. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks astutely observes that there is a difference between what we are good at and what we are called upon to do: “We can be good at many things, but what gives a life direction and meaning is a sense of mission, of something we are called on to do.” He continues: “Each of us is different. Therefore, we each have unique talents and skills to bring to the world. The fact that I am here, in this place, at this time, with these abilities, is not accidental. There is a task to perform, and God is calling us to it. Where what we want to do meets what needs to be done, that is where God wants us to be.”

Michael Novak, an American Catholic philosopher, suggested asking yourself three questions to discover your calling: is it unique to you; do you have a talent for it; and does it give you a sense of enjoyment and renewed energy? Moreover, it is important to realize that you may not discover your purpose immediately. You may have to make many mistakes before you find your true mission in life.

Indeed, God gave each of us a task. There is specific work for us to do, kindness to share, loneliness to abate, pain to assuage, and broken spirits to lift. In Sun Dogs, Ned Chipley ultimately discovers his life’s purpose; his story is worth contemplating.