Best Boy

Let's save some agony and cut to the IMDB chase:

Portrait of a family in transition: a mother, a father, and their son, their "best boy." Pearl and Max Wohl live in Queens with Philly, their cheerful, engaging, and mentally-disabled son. For 50 years Pearl and Max have provided a loving home for Philly, but they're aging, Max is ailing, and they must figure out what's to happen to Philly when they can no longer care for him. Are there options besides an institution? Philly's cousin is Ira Wohl, whose camera follows the family as Philly takes steps into the wider world. Written by {jhailey@hotmail.com}

All this time while watching documentaries I felt a dissonance between what was going on behind the camera and what I was watching. I always felt the film crew looking on the people with impersonal voyeuristic intentions, even the do-no-wrongers, the Maysels. With films like American Movie, Speedo, and Grey Gardens there seemed to be a lingering and persistent view of the protagonists as characters of which we should poke fun, or contrast to our lives which were made to seem so much better. The Gros-esque Napoleonic portraiture of the hyped-up documentary was getting absurd, but with Best Boy it is redeemed by a Vermeerian sense of tranquility and finesse of the life portrait. A sense of pity and thankfulness underscores a lot of the films I’ve been watching, but Best Boy was the first that earnestly portrayed its protagonist in a lovingly and tactful way. This is strongly due to the relation of the director to the subject; Ira Wohl is Phillip Wohl’s first cousin. And yet, with the subject so close to the filmmaker’s heart, the complex veracity of the difficulties of raising a mentally handicapped child comes forth and the director has no problem juxtaposing the hidden frustrations of the family along with the unconditional love they feel toward each other.

The intrafamilial relationships were the most interesting parts of Best Boy that explored the intricate workings of a family living day-to-day with a special needs child, even though Phillip cannot technically be referred to as child being in his 50s. His mother, Pearl, who eerily reminds me of my grandmother, exercises skillful and loving care of the family, even though she and Phillip’s father, Max, break their façade of unfettered elation in the presence of Phillip. During a moment when Ira and Pearl were alone while at an orientation at a new school, Pearl frankly states, and I’m paraphrasing a bit, that “if God wants to punish you He’ll give you a retarded child.” And while we know she loves her son, she let’s the viewers feel some of her frustration. A similar situation occurs in a dialogue between Max and Pearl on a day when Phillip has gone for the day leaving the couple alone. Max, curmudgeonly tells Pearl to go clean something now that her “hired help” is gone (Phillip really liked to clean, especially the dishes). The nature of this comment is unclear, but it doesn’t seem that he is joking. The façade he and Pearl keep of being constantly happy, secure parents while Phillip is around dissolves when he is gone. These instances help to bring greater depth and humanity to the documentary and enforce my hopefulness of more films with Best Boys’ eloquence.

I don’t want to talk about this film in terms of making you think about what we take for granted or to take away any moral, but rather to view this film as an example of the human condition (that’s right, I said it) and the way in which it can be respectfully and thoughtfully provoking without the harsh melodrama of self-aware nincompoops (don’t get me wrong, I love self-aware nincompoops, but sometimes I like to keep a classy base).

Aside from being a nice change from the other films I’ve been watching, Best Boy was just down right charming and heartwarming (although heartbreaking at the end). Phillip won me over. The moment he was singing “If I Were a Rich Man” with Zero Mostel and completely oblivious to any concept of celebrity was fantastic. There were rare moments when Phillip wasn’t smiling or oozing contentment. Is this starting to sound like a eulogy? He has a strong outgoing personality that really shines in Best Boy and I highly recommend viewing it. Amen.

Apparently you can watch the whole thing on YouTube.

A brief aside written at 4am.

Dear fellow travelers,

I know you've been patiently following me down the documentarial path and I express some gratitude, yet it's now time to stop by the wayside, walk into the tall grass and meander down into that muddy gully that is Exploitation Cinema. Let us tread lightly through its shallow waters being careful not to mame or mangle any of the decrepit life that lurks and slithes in what is debatably mud. Let's fish gently in the tepid waters for the gornatodes hidden under clods of taboo (am I taking this analogy too far?). We will breath in the air heavy with sex and death which I imagine smells a lot like Gauguin's Monao Tupapau. We will bite into the hard sensationalist candy shell to get to the perverse and gory nougat (suspend your disbelief and imagine nougat inside a candy shell, gross, I know). Please also suspend the disbelief in trying to relate this entry to the rest of the site, I assure you it has nothing to do with documentaries. It does, or would like to, discuss briefly and encourage the viewing of exploitation films.

Last week I watched Cannibal Holocaust. It was terrible. But the fact that it exists within a larger genre fascinated me. It was like stumbling across the first circle of hell and realizing there were 8 more circles below me filled with unspeakably graphic and lurid content. So immediately after viewing I went to the library to order a slew of other films like it. For now, I'm trying to get a sampling of all the sub-genres. So on my queue I have Blacula, Mondo Cane, The Street Fighter, and 2000 Maniacs. Suggestions would be fantastic. I feel like I'm arriving a little 40 years late on the bandwagon, but I can't blame late conception for everything. Also, I suppose the interest has been sparked with my new (sort of) fascination with death and the ways in which different cultures confront the issue which is equally important as the way they view sex. I suppose this entry also functions as a warning in that I will be writing some low-brow and lurid entries on this topic in the future.

sincerely,

your humble fabulist