I cannot think of anything more fulfilling than going on a superb vacation, except, of course, for coming home from a superb vacation. There is just something about returning to the comfortable and the well-known that is so completely satisfying. Like listening to a preferred standard, reading a beloved classic, or re-watching a favorite flick, going back home offers a sensation of genuine familiarity that is just so right.
Since returning to North Carolina from our recent roam through central California, Elaine and I have been reinserting ourselves happily back into our day-to-day life, which for me includes the consideration of a weekly topic for this blog. Not wishing to overuse my free pass, the round about ramble, I have been trying to steer this week’s topic back in the direction of the movies. However, considering I spent the last ten days vacationing on the other side of the country and not watching a single new movie, that task has not proved itself entirely uncomplicated.
But then as I sat reflecting on home and how it feels to return to a place you know so well, I began to think about a movie that I return to again and again for a similar sort of comfort and rejuvenation. A movie that, no matter how many times I watch, manages to never lose hold of its power and its timelessness. A movie that has never fallen from its position way up on top of my list of favorites. A movie that I love like home. Ernest Thompson’s 1981 adaptation of his own play, On Golden Pond, so perfectly encapsulates the perpetual themes of age and time, loss and death, family and strength, that I have stopped waiting for anything better to come along.
The return of Norman and Ethel Thayer to their summer home in Maine is the beginning to one of the most beautiful and moving stories ever committed to film. I have never found an equal in its mesmerizing ability to portray with such flawless authenticity the sheer emotion that results from a life spent growing old with somebody, who knows you better than you know yourself. Director Mark Rydell utilized a very straightforward and idyllic approach to his filming of the story, which was absolutely the correct approach to take. If he had chosen to grandstand in spectacle and effects, the subtle glances and nuances of character along with the clever quips and jabs throughout the rich and believable dialogue would have been lost in the glare.
And then there is the cast. Nowhere will you find a more stunning example of motion picture acting than within the trifecta of awards-worthy performances captured by Henry Fonda, Jane Fonda, and Katharine Hepburn. Henry Fonda won a long overdue Academy Award for this performance, which ended up being his last. He died shortly after receiving the award. His rendering of the octogenarian, Norman, who fears his approaching death but discovers a small reserve of youthfulness after befriending a young boy, is hilarious one minute, heartbreaking the next. Katharine Hepburn, as his wife Ethel, is wisdom and strength incarnate. Hers is one of my absolute favorite performances of all time. It is breathtaking. Jane Fonda was never better than she was here, acting beside her real life dad, as the daughter of a man who was never able to make her feel wanted or loved. If you ever want to watch a movie strictly for the purpose of seeing great acting at work, look no further than this film.
With all due respect to Thomas Wolfe, I believe you can go home again, and recommend, from time to time, you give it a try. It can be a rejuvenating experience. Just like watching On Golden Pond.
Until next week, here is my hope that we all find our Shangri-La. Good night.
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