When I moved to Israel, I realized I could no longer be a synagogue rabbi or a school principal. Why? My command of Hebrew was only fair and I was in my 60s. Even though I felt I was at the top of my game, I was viewed by others as part of the past, not the future. So what to do?
For five years, I taught Anglos who were in Israeli schools, both middle school and high school. Most of the time, I prepared students to pass the matriculation examinations that they needed to get into college. I mixed in some poetry to make it more interesting for me as well as for the students. Every year I taught, the school had to get permission for me to teach since I was over the official retirement age.
After five years, the Ministry of Education ruled that they would no longer grant me permission to teach even though the school wanted me to continue. The bottom line: I had to find other employment outside of the school system, which brought me to “Kosher Movies.” I began writing film reviews in newspapers and on the Internet about movies that had something meaningful to say about life, movies that could help us navigate life no matter what our age.
Whenever I visit the States to visit family, I set up trips to synagogues, adult study groups, and schools to speak about the potentially positive influence of cinema on adults and teenagers. Watching The Old Man and the Gun reminded me of why I am now writing and lecturing on film. I simply wanted to be relevant, especially in a world, which, generally speaking, marginalizes the elderly.
The Old Man and the Gun is based on the true story of Forrest Tucker, a career criminal who escaped from San Quentin Prison at age 70. Once back in society, he commits a number of bank robberies that both mystify the police and fascinate the public. Trying to catch him is Detective John Hunt who is enthralled by Tucker’s soft spoken and gentle way of staging a heist.
Whenever Hunt investigates the crime, all the victims mention how polite and disarming Tucker was during the robbery. In one scene in which Tucker flees the crime in a cab with a mother and child aboard, he decides to stop the taxi so the mother and child can get off rather than be frightened by his fugitive status.
Forrest has a feeling of self-esteem when he is robbing banks. He sees himself as a good person who does not want to hurt others, but he desires to steal to reaffirm his lifelong talent for crime. Old age for him is not a time of retirement.
Indeed, old age is potentially a time of great blessing if one fills it with achievements. This is what the patriarch Abraham did as he advanced in years. Scripture states: “he grew old and came along in days.” The commentators interpret this to mean that in his senior years he continued to be productive and accomplish great things.
The question is how does one measure a life? Is one’s physical strength the only measure of a man’s ability to be productive in life? In truth, we know that physical strength wanes as we get older, but wisdom can grow.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe raises the question of a person’s value as he progresses through life. Is value only seen in terms of a person’s physical prowess or is it determined by the quality of one’s wisdom and insight. The Rebbe observes that behind the notion of retirement is the idea “that life is composed of productive and non-productive periods. The first 20-30 years of life are seen as a time of little or no achievement, as a person acquires knowledge and training in preparation for the productive period of life. The next 30-40 years are the time in which his or her creative energies are realized. Finally, as he enters his twilight years, he puts his period of real achievement behind him; he has worked hard all his life, so he now ought to settle down and enjoy the fruits of his labors. If the creative urge still agitates his aging body, he is advised to find some harmless hobby with which to fill his time. Indeed, time is now something to be filled and gotten over with as he whiles away his days on life’s sidelines, his knowledge and abilities filed away in the attic of old age.”
Furthermore, the Rebbe states: “Torah, however, recognizes no such distinction between life’s phases, for it sees productivity as the very essence of life: the words a non-productive life-period are an oxymoron. Retirement and the passive enjoyment of the fruits of one’s labor also have their time and place—in the World To Come. In the words of the Talmud, Today is the time to do; tomorrow, to reap the reward. The very fact that God has granted a person a single additional day of bodily life means that he has not yet concluded his mission in life, that there is still something for him to achieve in this world. “
Forrest Tucker chooses to break the law so that he can feel relevant at a time when elders are being pushed to the sidelines of life. The Old Man and the Gun reminds us that the drive for self-esteem and relevance remains with us all our lives, and is not limited by age.