One of my girls once said something about how they could always tell when they were in the presence of Art because it made them want to be a better person. I loved that definition of art, and understand exactly what she meant.
That's why today, even though we don't do it often, I think we should indulge in a
--Small Works Movie Review
used to give
and if it was
good enough for Eleanor . . . !
I'm going to go ahead and just apply Eleanor's review to the movie we saw yesterday, because it was also "about something important -- and delightfully entertaining."
Actually, it was a thing of true beauty.
That's about the best-fitting description I can come up with.
You may have to work for it a bit -- seek it out wherever they play the good (read: indie) films in your area, as we did. I can tell you with certainty it's not coming to Apple Valley, for instance, but it was well worth the trip to Minneapolis and if I could buy a ticket for each of you and everyone else I know, I'd do it. Because it will make you want to be a better person.
Buck is a documentary about Buck Brannaman,
a cowboy philosopher who travels the country
teaching and helping, as he describes it,
"horses with people problems."
"Your horse is a mirror to your soul,
and sometimes you may not like what you see.
Sometimes you will."
-- Buck Brannaman
Part of the power of Buck's story comes from the fact that he is the product of a tragic childhood, but has consciously, and with great effort, chosen a positive path for his own life. So when Buck tells you something, you tend to think he probably knows what he's talking about. Because he's had to do an awful lot of "figuring out" just to survive.
Now, pay attention: In case you're thinking, "Yeah, but Susan likes Bonanza reruns, too..."
This review constitutes a particularly ringing endorsement because if you've hung around Small Works for awhile, you probably know that (Bonanza aside) --
I am not a horse person.
My mother used to say, "We are not ___________ people."
The blank fill-ins included "outdoor people", "pet people", and definitely "horse people".
And she obviously convinced me because I can't ride them . . . I can't even DRAW them . . . (and yes, although I tolerate Cooper I am, at heart, neither a pet person nor an outdoor person. I prefer camping at fine hotels. So she either knew me or made me in her image. Or both.)
Although I did have my very own cowboy philosopher grandfather, who also had a pretty tragic back story of his own, and so I think Buck Brannaman seemed immediately familiar somehow.
Anyway, get thee to a theater . . . GO!