Finding Five Movies That Fill My Boots & Made My Bones

Shortlisting select movies that say something about who I am

When I read this article by Paul Combs that ended with his tagging me to face the same challenge, I thought, “well, this should be pretty easy.” It wasn’t.

I scribbled down the top three on my always handy notepad with barely any contemplation. The fourth of the required five titles came to mind a day later.

Then, I hit a brick wall.

For the following week, I remained busy with other writing topics to tackle and the regular duties of life, but the missing fifth movie was always on my mind. So then, I went out for a stroll one evening with my ancient dog, and I asked him.

“Jackboy,” I said, “what’s the fifth movie?”

Being the good boy he is, Jack responded with a side glance and good huff. We don’t go for long walks anymore, Jack and me. Both of us wobble now more than we stride, and with our stamina thinned out and bones sore, our pace is slow but sure.

Having stopped at the park bench for a rest, I looked down at this old dog of mine. If he makes it to Groundhog Day, he’ll be sixteen years old, that’s 112 in dog years. As I gave Jackboy a good scratch behind the ears, he looked at me with those knowing eyes, still happy, loyal, and unwavering in his unconditional love. With those pure and true virtues displayed at my side, the last movie on the list found its place.

Stand By Me (1986)

I think the last movie was the most difficult to determine because that stage of my life has been the hardest to reconcile — my youth. Childhood was being left behind, and I was failing as a “good” young man in my father’s eyes with every step. If you’re curious to read why that was the way it was, you can find that story here.

Although the boys in the movie weren’t headed into the woods as runaways, like I had done several times-I, too, had a small band of brothers. On three of the four major excursions, I had those boys join me in a show of solidarity. Against what or whom? I can’t even clearly define.

Drawing correlations from the characters of the movie and my group, we matched up reasonably well. The toughest and most broken of us, “Bucky” would have been a perfect double for Corey Feldman’s-Teddy Duchamp.

The overgrown man-child of our group, “Huge-Eug(ene)” didn’t narrowly escape death from a train like Jerry O’Connell’s-Vern Tresso, but his peculiar dietary need for fresh cheese made him a weak link.

At the time, I could identify most with Will Wheaton’s-Gordie Lachance. I wasn’t a particularly happy kid, not on the inside. I was in my head a lot and by far the most cerebral of the troupe. I felt that I saw things differently than the other “normal” kids, and while they mooned over comic books, I was lost in historical epics of WWII, Vietnam, and the romantic hopes of the generations between those wars.

Then there was my steady, angst-ridden, sometimes hero-sometimes zero, pal to match River Phoenix’s-Chris Chambers. Who, like Chris, was making his best moves for a good, middle-class life. Then just like that, one day, he was gone, struck down before hitting the prime of his young life by a broken winch line at the dockyards and a runaway load.

Thinking about the movie now, I can recognize the qualities of each of those boys as parts of who I was and who I would become.

Friendships shifted as narrated in the movie, “It happens sometimes; friends come in and out of your life like busboys in a restaurant.”-Stand By Me.

The movie was real. It hit home then and still pulls the feelings that make me choke and sigh today.

A River Runs Through It (1992)

This movie is my home. I cannot think of any single line delivered in a film that defines me more succinctly than Norman Maclean’s closing-

“I am haunted by waters.”

I’ve been a fly fisherman most of my life, and while the world demands us to be tolerant of our differences, and I do try and honor that philosophy, in fishing, I am, by definition-a Purist. If I can’t hold a fly rod in my hands, I’m not fishing. All other forms of fishing are uncivilized and uninspired, which is perfectly summed up by another brilliantly accurate quote from the movie.

“If our father had his way, nobody who did not know how to fish would be allowed to disgrace a fish by catching him.”- Norman Maclean.

In stark contrast to the movie, my father was neither a fisherman (of any sort) nor could he be regarded as overtly religious. Life had delivered more pain to him than he could reason with, and he blamed God, but that did not relieve him from the duty of his children knowing Christianity.

Unlike Canada and the United States, where Church and State are kept separate, the two are indistinguishable in his homeland of Hungary. So while my father would send us kids off to church every Sunday, he would spend the rest of his life seeking His voice.

For me, my conviction in God arrived while I was standing waist-deep against the current of my home river with a fly rod in my hand. It was a moment I’ve never forgotten and a feeling that has not lessened in sensation since it occurred some forty years ago. While I consider myself a writer, there are some things no finessing of words can adequately explain. It was an experience. Once again, all I can do is leave it to the writer of this beautiful book and wonderful movie.

“Trout as well as eternal salvation come by grace and grace comes by art and art does not come easy”-Norman Maclean.

Though my father passed away before I could coax him into the waters alongside me, he too delivered one quote after witnessing my many successful exploits in any water I could get at. Upon accepting the challenge of taking my Uncle fishing, who was visiting from Hungary, my father assured him of a trout on his line if he listened to my instruction.

“I tell you, that boy could coax a fish from a puddle if given the chance.”-Laszlo Nagy.

Sunshine (1999)

This movie is the story of a Jewish-Hungarian family told through three generations beginning during the rule of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Starring Ralph Fiennes, Rachel Weisz, and the elegant and enchanting Rosemary Harris.

The history is accurate, and the story is beautiful, poignant, brutal, and cruel. It shows Hungary at her best and worst through tumultuous times. War, persecution, discrimination, and a raw identity.

Though we grew up in Canada, we were raised with a Hungarian identity, if not more so than Canadian. My parents were relentless in their teachings of all things Hungarian. My father was in charge of formal Hungarian education, reading, writing, and speaking the language fluently. English was not permitted to be spoken inside the home unless we had friends visiting. So while my father taught us history, poetry, legends, and lore, my mother taught us to taste the culture by way of her kitchen.

The movie focuses on the Jewish experience in Hungary and how Hungarians were not above the same religious discrimination and persecution of Jews as was the rest of Europe. This Jewish story plucks at an old but not lost vein of Jewish blood that is still part of my DNA. My great-grandmother was Jewish, and it was her love for and marriage to a gentile and quite likely her protection that she converted to Catholicism. From that branch down, our Jewish ancestry remained only in the roots.

Many North Americans cannot understand because they have not been immersed in the mindset and culture of the small but highly populated European countries. Beneath the robes of Royalty and the surface of refined etiquette runs a competition fueled by venom. This is a general but true statement and applies with increased intensity the further East one goes.

Each bordering country hates its neighbor. Very few long-standing friendly allies exist, and one thing they have all been together on for the past thousand years, give or take a century, is the disdain for Jews.

Sunshine pulls no punches, and the shame cuts deep. This movie sheds light on the layers of being Hungarian and what it was like to be a Hungarian Jew. In my opinion, it is the finest and most important film to come out of Hungary and is a kaleidoscope showing the colors of the fabric that is my family.

Big Night (1996)

It is a story of Italian brothers Primo and Secondo who come to America to carve out their slice of the American pie. Opening a restaurant in New Jersey that offers Chef Primo’s authentic Italian fare while Secondo runs the front of the house, this small, excellent movie touches all the nuances of owning and operating a small restaurant.

Having extensive experience in professional kitchens, I can attest that Italians in the kitchen are the most passionate. Not the most insane, that’s a tie between Greeks and Austrians-absolute egotistical maniacs, but for passion? For the stomp your feet, slap your face, curse your mother passion, about a perfectly crafted Penne all’Arrabiata or a Tiramisu that spills tears of astounding joy? Those are Italians.

Not only can I relate to each of the characters and most of the supporting cast, but I’ve been each of them as well.

It ends with a perfectly captured scene. The bubble has burst. The American dream seems to have melted away on the tongue like the frothy perfection of a delicate Zabaglione. Blood, sweat, and tears have all been shed.

The scene; A simple omelet, breaking bread, and family.

I have to offer up a second course here, though. Food movies are generally satisfying, such as Chef (2014) when not pretentious and insulting like Burnt (2015), but there is another that is so extraordinary it must be mentioned.

Eat, Drink, Man, Woman (1994)

Here, Master Chef Chu, faces retirement and struggles with seeing his three grown daughters abandon the nest as a single father. I only add this in because of the food. After seeing this movie, I have dreamt of eating my way across China.

There Will Be Blood (2007)

I spent fourteen years working in the oilfields. It is a brutal landscape of hard men and harder work where mercy is absent, and pain is constant. I began at the bottom, literally. Beneath the drill floor of a rig is called the cellar — a dirty, toxic tangle of oil, mud, muck, and suffering.

I couldn’t count the number of times I was coated in drilling fluid and oil from head to toe or the number of -40°c nights working with steel and steam. There, in the patch, Darwin’s theory is proven. Survival of the fittest. Often tested against the dregs of society’s rejects, you moved up when someone fell down, and you stepped over their bodies to earn a better pay rate.

Empathy was non-existent, and injuries were an irritant. You fought to get through each shift, growing stronger, callous, and mean. It was not uncommon to fight with fists when words weren’t enough.

The movie shows this harsh climate well. Daniel Day-Lewis, who I consider to be the best actor in Hollywood, delivers the singular determination to succeed through the cruelty, the boom and bust cycles, greed, and the hard truth that cutthroats and criminals run the world, most of whom showed up in suits and empty promises.

Even when I transitioned from climbing the derrick to running directional tools, staking out my own business, the sacrifices for success only increased. Family? Left behind. Job security? None. Labor laws and safety? It’s a book you have to read, then throw it away. Always working for the next well and only as good as your last. At the mercy of commodity pricing that changed as quickly as the weather, a bad stretch of either would stop your cash flow instantly.

But you suffered through it all so that a well would produce and “blow gold all over the place.”

These five movies give you a look at my DNA, who I am, where I came from, and where I’ve been. This challenge was just that, an introspective look at parts of my life through film, and like life itself, not all the answers came easy.

Should you wish share your own cinematic journey, the original prompt can be found here. Of the many fantastic writer’s here on Medium, I would be curious to see the selections chosen by Jessie Waddell, PJ Jackelman and GB Rogut

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