The Straight Story

73-year-old Alvin Straight (Richard Farnsworth) from Laurens, Iowa takes a tumble. His challenged daughter Rose (Sissy Spacek) is concerned. He won't let his doctor do tests. Then he receives word that his estrange brother Lyle (Harry Dean Stanton) had a stroke. He is determined to go see his brother in Wisconsin. He can't drive and there's no bus. So he decides to modify his lawn mower for the long trip.

This is an interesting little indie. There are a lot of tiny oddities in this. First this is directed by David Lynch without any of his usual surreal touches. He is really gentle here letting Farnsworth do his acting. There are some quirky touches here and there. He puts in some beautiful music. Spacek makes an interesting choice with her stutter. She has a funny moment in the beginning. Alvin is an old self-reliant guy. He's charming in his old school ways. The story is funny and bitter sweet.

Perhaps more than many films, this one is not for everyone. For some folks the idea of slowing down, reflecting and allowing things to happen in their own time is a good description of their personal hell. For others an approach like this speaks to some deep part of themselves they know exists, some part they long for contact with.

I suppose it's a function of where I am in my own life these days, but I count myself in the camp of the latter group. I found the meditative pace of this film almost hypnotic, gently guiding me into some realm almost mythological. This is indeed a journey story, a rich portrayal of the distance many of us must travel if we are to come full circle at the end of our days.

Much as been written of Mr Farnsworth's presentation of Alvin Straight, though I'm not sure there are words to express the exquisite balance of bemused sadness and wise innocence he conjured for us. Knowing now that he was indeed coming to terms with his own mortality as he sat on that tractor seat makes me wish I had had the opportunity to spend time with him before his departure. I hope he had a small glimmer of the satisfaction and truth he had brought to so many people, not just for "acting" but for sharing his absolute humanity with such brutal honesty.

Given the realities of production economics, I'm not sure full credit has been given Mr Lynch for the courage he showed in allowing the story to develop so slowly. An outsider to film production, I nonetheless understand there are few areas of modern life where the expression "time is money" is so accurately descriptive. Going deep into our hearts is not an adventure that can be rushed, and to his credit Mr Lynch seems to have understood that he was not simply telling a story--he was inviting his viewers to spend some time with their own mortality. No simple task, that.

If you'd like to experience the power of film to take introduce you to some precious part of yourself, you could do worse than spending a couple of hours with The Straight Story. And then giving yourself some time for the next little while simply listening to its echoes in the small hours of the night.

No matter where you are on your journey, the meanders past, present and still to come, you'll take something from this endearing tale about an elderly man and his adventures on a very long journey to see his brother by mini tractor. Meeting and interacting with numerous people on his way, who each have a relatable story to share, along with a few the old timer shares with us - you're left feeling reflective on your own directions, what they mean and where it is they're taking you, and those around you too. Beautifully performed, filmed and scripted, it's never too late to rebuild bridges broken, or indeed, build new ones into the future.

Whenever I hear a movie being touted because it has no sex, violence, bad language, special effects, and so on, my b.s. detector goes off. Usually, a movie like that is sentimental hogwash which panders to people who don't want anything to surprise them, but to affirm how superior they are to us craven folk. So when David Lynch's THE STRAIGHT STORY began getting those kinds of reviews, I was apprehensive, especially since I was not a fan of his other "uplifting" story, THE ELEPHANT MAN. For all the stunning images and the good acting in that film, it seemed more interested in preaching to us than inspiring us.

I needn't have worried. THE STRAIGHT STORY is an honest movie rather than a saccharine one. Most of that is due to the fact that Lynch and writers John Roach and Mary Sweeney tell it straight and simple for the most part. There are a couple of homilies by Straight I could have done without, and the shots of grain being harvested are repeated a little too much, but those are only quibbles. There's no heavy-handed message, no sentimental strings to jerk our emotions, and no condescension towards us and its characters. Instead, they depend on the story to build its own power, and it does, so by the final scene, we are genuinely moved.

Of course, casting Richard Farnsworth adds realism to the part. He really is someone who looks like he's lived through a lot but still perseveres, and except for those homilies, the desire he has to get back together with his brother doesn't seem overly sentimental, because you can sense here is someone who's lived too long and seen too much to be driven by anger for long. And he knows his time is running out, so he wants to make some peace, not only with his brother, but with his life. Sissy Spacek also does fine, unmannered work as Straight's daughter. And although I am a city and suburban boy, the Iowa and Wisconsin landscape are beautifully shot, making me want at least to visit some day.

It takes patience to get through David Lynch's eccentric, but-- for a change-- life-affirming chronicle of Alvin Straight's journey, but stick with it. Though it moves as slow as Straight's John Deere, when he meets the kind strangers along his pilgrimage we learn much about the isolation of aging, the painful regrets and secrets, and ultimately the power of family and reconciliation. Richard Farnsworth caps his career with the year's most genuine performance, sad and poetic, flinty and caring. And Sissy Spacek matches him as his "slow" daughter Rose who pines over her own private loss while caring for dad. Rarely has a modern film preached so positively about family.