In the United States, last Sunday was Father’s Day. As longtime readers might recall, our philosophy for special days is to celebrate early, celebrate often. Accordingly, on Saturday, we met our daughter Shannon and her husband Mike in southern Maine at When Pigs Fly Pizzeria in Kittery.
Clif and Mike reflected on their beer choices. Did the beer measure up? Yes, it did.
There was pizza.
And for Clif, a tofu bowl with perfectly fried tofu and ever-so-fresh pea pods.
We had a wonderful time eating and chatting. Even though we are homebodies, we so enjoy our southern Maine adventures with Shannon and Mike.
On Sunday, which was actually Father’s Day, did we stick to our usual routine and stay home? We did not. We went to a movie, The Death of Robin Hood, a violent, grim take on the famous outlaw. No merry men cavorting in tights here. This movie is not for the faint of heart, so readers be warned if you decide to see it.
After the movie, we cheered ourselves up with drinks at Margaritas in Augusta.
Duly cheered, we headed home to spend the evening in our gazebo on the patio.
With the addition of lights, our special spot has gone from very sweet to enchanting.
We stayed until dusk came, and the solar lights in our yard blinked on. Despite the grim movie, it was a very happy Father’s Day indeed.
In the United States, last Friday was Juneteenth, a federal holiday. According to Wikipedia, “It is celebrated annually on June 19 to commemorate the end of slavery in the United States. The holiday’s name, first used in the 1890s, is a portmanteau of June and nineteenth, referring to June 19, 1865, the day when Major General Gordon Grangerordered the final enforcement of the Emancipation Proclamation in Texas at the end of the American Civil War.”
In honor of this day, here is one of my favorite songs, “Blackbird,” written by Paul McCartney, who was inspired by the Civil Rights movement in the United States.
In Maine, June is surely one of the sweetest months of the year. Everything is new and green. The days are warm, but not too hot. The nights are cool enough to snuggle under blankets, which I love to do. Right now, as I work at my desk, the window is open, and I can smell the scent of early summer coming from the woods.
Living on the edge of the woods brings many pleasures, but there is a disadvantage in the summer—mainly, mosquitoes. Now, they have their place. Mosquitoes provide essential nutrition for adult birds and their babies, and I would never begrudge food for those fluttering, singing beauties. Unfortunately, we provide food for the mosquitoes, and sitting on our patio in June and July after the sun goes down is no fun at all.
What to do? Douse our yard with pesticides? Yeah, right. As if this family of green beans would ever do such a thing, especially as the mosquitoes in Maine do not spread diseases such as dengue fever, malaria, or yellow fever.
Here, then, is our solution for this year, a Christmas present from our daughter Dee.
The gazebo, roomy and airy, allows us to sit on the patio at any time of day. Occasionally, we thumb our nose at the mosquitoes, who cluster longingly around the screen. Outside. Where they belong.
Last week, we had our friends Dawna and Jim over for wine and appetizers, and eating and talking, we spent hours in the gazebo. Green is still the predominant color, but, as Dawna observed, there are many different shades. So there are, and soon, there will be other colors as well.
Dawna brought cheesecake and made the most delicious strawberry-rhubarb sauce to go with it. I could have some right now.
Readers might recall that several posts back, I featured a bird’s nest that had fallen onto the patio. I love the way feathers were woven into the nest.
I left the nest on the patio, and a week or so ago, as Clif was working on the gazebo, he noticed how a bird came to the nest, picked at this and that, and then flew away. The bird returned over and over, until the nest looked like this:
What a great example of recycling! Years ago, my dear friend Barbara Johnson, who has been gone for over twenty years, told me that when we come upon a nest that has blown down from a tree, it is best to leave it there, as birds will reuse the material for a new nest. Barbara, how right you were.
Power Ballad Directed by John Carney With Paul Judd and Nick Jonas
If you like Ireland, music, and character-driven stories, then Power Ballad is the movie for you. Paul Judd plays a wedding musician who yearns for more. Nick Jonas plays a boy-band musician who’s lost his mojo. Their stories come together in a bittersweet way, and the movie’s ending is so generous and kind that it moved me to tears and made me think maybe that there is hope for us as a species. Really, I can’t recommend this movie highly enough.
In Maine, Spring isn’t quite over, but we are edging ever closer to summer.
The view from my living room window shows how the trees are almost in full leaf.
Green, green, green is the predominant color in my yard.
Minerva, our guard cat, watches over the garden.
I always complain that I have one of the worst yards in Winthrop in which to garden. These sweet speckled violets prove my point. Once they were in the bed featured in the picture above. Did they like it there? They did not. Even though the conditions seemed just right in the bed, the violets abandoned ship to take up residency on the lawn.
By the side of our house, we also have traditional violets that look especially fetching alongside the beloved ferns.
I’m still busy with gardening and will be for the next couple of weeks. It looks as though I won’t be able to accomplish all that I set out to do with composting and fertilizing. I am seriously considering letting the leaves stay in the hosta beds for natural composting and fertilizing. After all, to quote my friend Jim, those hostas are as tough as a bag of hammers.
In the United States, Memorial Day was on Monday, May 25. Memorial Day is not only a time to remember loved ones who have passed, but also to honor the service and sacrifice of those who are and were in the armed forces.
Therefore, when we saw that the movie Pressure was playing at our local Regal Cinema on Monday, May 25, we figured this was the perfect day to see it.
Pressure is a movie about the weather. Specifically, what the weather would be like when the Allies planned to invade Normandy on June 5, 1944, also known as D-Day. (I expect most readers are at least familiar with the broad outlines of what happened on D-Day, and that no spoiler warnings are necessary.)
General Dwight D. Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser), an American, commanded the Allied forces, and his concern about the weather was warranted. Bad weather would make landing impossible, thus putting the whole invasion in jeopardy. But postponing the event also had its perils, not the least of which was that crucial information might be leaked to the Germans.
Enter the meteorologists—James Stagg (Andrew Scott), a prickly Scotsman, and Irving Krick (Chris Messina), an overconfident American. (Is there any other kind?) The movie opens seventy-two hours before the planned invasion on June 5. Krick, going by the weather in the past, predicts that the day will be sunny and calm. Stagg, receiving reports of storms approaching Great Britain and France, thinks otherwise.
The decision to attack on June 5 or to postpone the invasion is the central tension of the movie, and Pressure does a terrific job of ratcheting up this conflict. We all know the outcome, yet I was still on the edge of my seat as Stagg and Krick fought about the weather, and Eisenhower had to decide what to do.
Andrew Scott and Chris Messina were perfectly cast as the feuding meteorologists. The stakes couldn’t have been higher, and I was sympathetic with both men. Unfortunately, Brendan Fraser’s volatile performance as Eisenhower was not quite as good. I have read that Eisenhower took pride in being calm and measured, in not having meltdowns under pressure, which must have been considerable in the lead-up to D-Day.
Still, the movie is very much worth seeing, a timely reminder of the courage and wisdom our leaders displayed when the outcome of the war lay in balance.
Once upon a time, we had great leaders who did the right thing. Perhaps, someday, we will have them again.
On a gray, rainy Sunday, Clif, Dee, and I headed south to Portland, the Babylon of Maine, and our biggest city (population: around 68,000). Dee was keen on seeing the movie Exit 8, and as far as we could tell, none of the cinemas in our area would be showing it. Fifty miles one way is a bit of a drive for a movie, but because of the weather, we couldn’t work outside, and our electric vehicle, Bolty, gives us a guilt-free drive. So it seemed like a good day to head south. And as Dee noted, any day is a good day to go to the movies.
We made it to Portland in good time, and the Parking gods were on our side—there was an empty spot across from the Nicholodeon Cinema, affectionately referred to as “The Nick.” This empty spot really was a gift from the gods, as the parking garage, for some unknown reason, was closed, and there was a big event nearby.
So was it worth driving that far to see Exit 8? It certainly was. Exit 8, directed by Genki Kawamura, was so good that I’ve already put it on my list of best movies for 2026. Billed as a “mystery, psychological, horror film,” Exit 8 is actually light on horror and strong on psychological and mystery. Readers who are squeamish about horror films can go to this movie without fear. Exit 8 is also a surreal film, but it is primarily the psychological journey of Lost Man as he grapples with issues that are holding him back. Think Groundhog Day melded with The Twilight Zone with a dash of Waiting for Godot. Despite these twists, the movie manages to be warm and humane as we follow Lost Man on his journey.
I don’t want to give too much of the plot away, as the delight of this film lies in following Lost Man. Simply put, after receiving an important call from a former girlfriend, Lost Man, on his way to work, gets off the subway and finds himself in a series of white-tiled corridors that lead to Exit 8, his way out. Except Lost Man can’t leave and keeps looping around the bright yet bland corridors. Finally, Lost Man notices a sign with instructions, the most important of which is to turn around whenever he encounters an anomaly. If he doesn’t, Lost Man is back to zero. Literally.
Lost Man makes progress and has setbacks, and I was rooting for him the whole time. The film is moving but never cheesy, a real gem that cost about $1 million to make, which is peanuts nowadays.
Note: The trailer emphasizes the film’s horror elements rather than the humane quest of Lost Man.
For those who don’t live in northern New England, it might seem as though Spring is taking her own sweet time to get here. But for Mainers, things are moving very fast indeed.
As a visual aid, here is a picture of the backyard last week.
Looks like a winter wonderland, doesn’t it? Except that the picture was taken on March 23, which is officially spring in the northern hemisphere.
But Spring hasn’t forgotten us after all. Here is the backyard this week, featuring Snow-Gauge Clif.
For this Mainer, that snow melted pretty darned fast.
And look! The snow on the patio is completely gone. Time was when we hoped it would be clear by April 22, our daughter Shannon’s birthday. Now, it often melts by the end of March, and somehow, I have a hard time wrapping my head around this. It just doesn’t seem normal, even though this has been the case for several years.
While the backyard is mostly snow-free, there are still patches by the shady side of the house where the ferns grow in the summer.
Now to the front yard, where there is more snow.
But even in the front yard, the snow has gone down a lot. Here is a longer view.
When will the snow be gone from the front yard? Hard to say. It all depends on how warm it gets, whether it rains, and—dare I mention it?—whether we get another snowstorm. And yes, Maine sometimes gets April snowstorms, which tend to be wet, heavy, and nasty.
One thing is certain: there is excitement aplenty at our home by the edge of the woods.
Last week, I featured one of the paintings Dee bought at the Maine Evergreen Hotel in Augusta when we met friends and celebrated our 49th wedding anniversary. Dee bought two paintings, and here is the second one: a delicate pen-and-watercolor by Kate Casparius, quite different from the bold owl. Unfortunately, the camera on my phone doesn’t do this lovely painting justice. But it does give readers a sense of the range of work available at the Evergreen.
This Thursday, we will be meeting friends at the Evergreen, and Dee plans to buy a third painting.
Documentary: Herb and Dorothy, Available on YouTube
Dee is crazy about art and buys a piece whenever she can afford it. So far, although some has spilled out to the rest of the house, there is room on the walls in her room for most of her art.
However, when it comes to buying art, some folks have less restraint than Dee. Enter Herb and Dorothy Vogel, a postal worker and a librarian, whose passion for art exceeded that of most everyday folks. In the 1960s, they decided that they could live on one salary and buy art with the other. And boy did they ever buy art. Their small New York City apartment was crammed full of it to the point where they had to get rid of their sofa to make room for more art.
If you haven’t already seen the documentary about this charming, generous, obsessed couple, do yourself a favor and watch Herb and Dorothy. In a world that is often crabbed and stingy, the Vogels stand out as a shining example of the best of what people can be, even if most of us don’t want to stuff that much art into our homes. Slight spoiler: The Bowdoin College Museum of Art in Maine has been the beneficiary of their generosity.
How things change from one week to another. Last week, it still looked and felt like winter—the air was cold, and the snow sparkled. But Spring has her eyes on us, and yesterday, the temperature shot up to 60°F. Holy cats, it was so warm that I went outside without a jacket.
Now that we have entered this time purgatory in Maine, the snow is no longer lovely and sparkling. Instead, it’s packed down hard, and the snow banks…well, the snowbanks look like this:
But nearly every place has its challenging months—maybe Hawaii doesn’t?—and in Maine, we must suffer through March to get to April, when Spring truly begins.
Still, even in this soggy, dirty time, there are hopeful signs that Spring is just around the corner. The other day, I heard the male cardinal singing his spring song. Such a lovely sound. And the ice on the pathways has started to melt, making walking on them so much easier.
Now to Snow-Gauge Clif.
We have decided that while Clif’s snow gauge might be charming, it is not, ahem, the most accurate way to measure snow. There’s a solid wedge of snow between the top cover and the ground, and the snow gauge can’t break through that wedge. Therefore, the snow gauge will be used as a visual cue rather than as an accurate measurement tool.
In the front yard, the snow hasn’t melted much, but the driveway is much clearer. Progress!
Here he is in the sunnier backyard, where we are seeing some more progress, at least on the pathways.
Rain is in the forecast for this week, and perhaps it will wear some of the snow away in our shady yard. However, March often has a sneaky way of bringing us wet, heavy snowstorms that can knock out power.
So only time will tell! Stay tuned for next week with Snow-Gauge Clif.
Movie: It Was Just an Accident, an Oscar nominee for Best Foreign Film
The 2026 Academy Awards ceremony will be televised next Sunday, March 15. As movie buffs, we are always interested in seeing nominated films, and although we never manage to see them all, we do a pretty good job of seeing most. This week, It Was Just an Accident was on our roster. To borrow from an old saying, better late than never. As it turned out, this Iranian film was my absolute favorite of the year.
Now, I am certainly aware of the significance of my choice. After all, the U.S. is pounding the crap out of Iran, which in turn is pounding the crap out of its neighbors. A horrible, brutal mess with implications that might be with us for a long while.
But I did not choose It Was Just an Accident because of its political significance. Instead, I loved this movie because of the skill of its director, Jafar Panahi—his humanism, his humor, and his wisdom in telling what is essentially a grim story.
A brief synopsis: A man, Eghbal, and his family are driving on a dark road at night. First, he runs over and kills a dog, then his car breaks down. He brings it to a local garage to be fixed. Eghbal has a prosthetic leg, and when one of the mechanics, Vahid, hears it squeak as Eghbal walks, this sets off a chain of events. Vahid is certain he remembers that awful squeak from when he was in an Iranian prison, and that this is the man who tortured him.
Determined to kill Eghbal, Vahid kidnaps him and plans to bury him alive. But when Eghbal insists he is innocent, Vahid begins to have doubts. Knocking Eghbal out, Vahid stuffs him into a large box in his van and sets out to find others who might be able to confirm that this is indeed the right man.
What follows is a darkly comic series of events as Vahid acquires a group of folks who have been tortured by a man with a squeaky prosthetic leg. But is it this man? They were all blindfolded when they were tortured, and no one saw his face.
One of the funniest scenes is when Vahid is approached by security guards who demand a bribe to let him and his cohorts go on their way. The guards are unaware that Eghbal is hidden in the van. When Vahid tells the guards he has no cash, one of them whips out a credit card reader, and all is well.
At the same time, this movie is no spoof, and it addresses serious issues—mercy, guilt, brutality, vengeance, and memory. Each character feels fully rounded rather than a type. Really, I cannot recommend this film enough. It Was Just an Accident is available on Hulu and can also be rented on Prime Video, Apple TV, and YouTube.
On Friday, the sky—to borrow from Simon and Garfunkel—was a hazy shade of winter.
In February in Maine, that can mean only one thing—snow—and snow it did, about five or six inches, which for northern New England is a nice little storm. The snow was not too heavy, and our trusty electric snow-thrower, Snow Joe, easily took care of it.
On Saturday, the skies cleared, and we had one of those beautiful winter days that Maine is known for.
Here is the view of our front yard from our living room window.
A side view from the window in my bedroom.
Kai decided he needed to look out the window, too. Perhaps he needs his own little camera?
Today—Monday, February 23—the sky is again a hazy shade of winter. A nor’easter is blowing up the coast, and this morning my daughter, who lives in Boston, wrote to tell me it is snowing so hard she can’t see the bridge from her window, a bridge that is usually visible.
South of us, in Portland, the nor’easter has hit with blowing snow and low visibility, but in central Maine, it has just begun to snow. The forecast is between four and eight inches. Again, no big deal for us.
For years, I wished we lived closer to the coast. I love the ocean and the sound of waves hitting the shore. The salt air and the cry of gulls. But now that the climate crisis is upon us, I am glad we live inland, where, as a rule, the storms aren’t as bad.
And although we live in a lakes region, not far from the Kennebec River, we live on a hill that keeps us high and dry when we do get storms. No flooding at our home at the edge of the woods. I wish I could write that this was our plan when we bought the house forty-two years ago, but it wasn’t. Instead, it was pure dumb luck. Always grateful when Chance is on our side.
Note: Long-time readers have been asking about Snow-Gauge Clif and when he will be featured on the blog. Well, I have some good news. Snow-Gauge Clif always makes his appearance on the first Monday in March and then on every Monday, usually into April, measuring the snow until it is gone. Next Monday is the first Monday in March. Stay tuned.
One of my blogging friends, Derrick Knight, mentioned in a comment that he can’t go to the movies anymore because he has to sit with his knees bent. I replied that in today’s post, I would show him why, with my creaky knees, I can go to the cinema and sit in comfort.
Here is the reason:
Our cinema has recliners, which I fondly refer to as Baracloungers, and they are oh-so-comfortable, especially for folks like me with creaky knees.
Our cinema, Regal, also offers a pass for $24 a month that lets us see one movie a day. Naturally, we don’t go to that many. We might be true-blue ciniphiles, but we have our limits. Usually, we see one movie a week, maybe two, depending on what’s showing. But even if we only see one, the cost is about $5 a movie, which is a wicked good deal.
Last weekend, we saw the crime thriller How to Make a Killing, a dark comedy about Becket, a young man from a rich family. Although his mother was banished, Becket is in line for a substantial inheritance, but other family members are ahead of him. What to do? Why kill them, of course. And that’s exactly what Beckett, played by the ever-charming Glenn Powell, sets out to do. Naturally, complications ensue along with a nifty plot twist at the end.
I’m only a little ashamed to admit that I enjoyed every minute of this movie, no doubt largely because of Powell’s charm. If you like dark comedy crime movies and shows, such as Burn Before Reading or Ripley, then you will probably like How to Make a Killing.
Here we are in the middle of February, midwinter in Maine. I love this still, cold time of year when the house is surrounded by snow, and I can see the sky because the trees are bare.
Here is the view from the living room window during the blue hour
Another day, in the afternoon, I took pictures of our backyard through an open window in my bathroom.
The memorial bench is surrounded by and covered with snow.
Most of the garden is a sea of snow, an excellent protection from the extreme cold we had in December and January. (Not much above zero for those two months.) But there is some interest thanks to the hydrangeas that Judy of New England Garden and Thread gave me, some black-eyed Susans, and the ornaments I left in the garden.
Midwinter is a time for reading, getting together with friends, and going to the movies. All right, I pretty much do this year-round, but in the winter, I don’t have to worry about outside chores, which are often front and center.
Movies, Movies, Movies
The Academy Awards are coming right up—March 15—and we try to see as many of the nominees as possible. Even though we are adults, we are still keen on animated films. (Young at heart or arrested development?) This weekend, we saw three of the animated films nominated for Best Picture.
KPop Demon Hunters
This movie is loud and lively, filled with kick-butt female demon hunters who love to eat and sing. Perfect for its intended audience of tweens and young teens. For adults? Not so much. However, from time to time, I did find myself bobbing to the music. Available to stream on Netflix.
Zootopia 2
Can two detectives, a fox and a rabbit, work together despite their differences? And an even bigger question: should reptiles, who are even more different than mammals, be allowed to live in Zootopia? This film is beautifully animated. Most adults will certainly appreciate the message of tolerance and understand how it applies to our own human world. The movie is at times hectic, which children will enjoy, but there is enough in the story for adults to enjoy as well. Currently playing in cinemas.
Arco
This is my favorite of the three, and I highly recommend it. A young boy named Arco lives in a future where time travel is possible. His sister and parents regularly travel back in time to gather plants, but they maintain Arco is too young to go with them. Does Arco sneak into his sister’s room and steal her time-traveling garb? Of course he does, and back to the past he goes, inadvertently landing in 2075 when the climate crisis is becoming a grave threat. There, he meets a young girl named Iris. Naturally, complications ensue, and he has a difficult time returning to the future.
This gentle, soulful movie does not preach, but it does not shy away from the worst of what the climate crisis could bring to Earth. How many movies, animated or not, examine this subject? Not very many. We saw Arco at the Maine Film Center, which specializes in independent movies, but it will soon be available on streaming services.
On Saturday, in our new EV—the Chevy Bolt—I drove Clif and Dee to Brunswick to catch the train to Boston, where they will be staying until Wednesday. The big occasion for this trip is an early birthday present to Clif from our daughter Shannon and her husband Mike: a ticket to The Who concert at Fenway Park on Tuesday, August 26.
For a variety of reasons, mostly involving my creaky knees, I decided to stay home. Even at the best of times, I’m not much of a traveler—I’m one who likes sleeping in my own bed—and my creaky knees have clinched the deal for me: home is best.
Time to be honest: Being on my own is a bit of a vacation. I don’t have to plan much for supper. (Poached eggs on English muffins? Yes, please.) I can watch what I want on television. (I’ve settled on Back to the Frontier because, as it turns out, Clif, Dee, and I really do like many of the same shows.) I don’t have anyone’s schedule but my own to worry about.
However, I will admit that at night, the house creaks, and I listen for Dee and Clif, who of course aren’t here. While I’m enjoying the time on my own, I will be happy to see them on Wednesday and hear about the concert and all the other fun things they did in Boston.
This afternoon I went to the cinema to see Freakier Friday(not a Dee or Clif movie), and it was utterly delightful, a movie that is both fun and heartfelt. At times I laughed, and at other times, I had tears in my eyes. When I mentioned this to the woman next to me, she told me this was her second time seeing the movie. I could understand why. Kudos to Jamie Lee Curtis, Lindsay Lohan, and the rest of the wonderful cast.
Note: Unfortunately, the camera on my phone has been acting up, and until I get things sorted, my posts will be picture free. It’s always something, isn’t it?
Well, folks, we did it—30 movies in nine days at the Maine International Festival (MIFF). Am I tired? You bet I am, but what a festival it was, with so many good movies that choosing my top three was a real challenge. We’ve been going to the film festival pretty much from when it started in 1998, and I really do think this year was the best. Others apparently thought so, too, as attendance was way up. There was plenty of world cinema, my personal favorite, and I traveled to Japan, Africa, France, Italy, England, Ireland, Iran, and Israel. There were documentaries that stunned me and made me cry. (More about two of those later,) There were movies from our own little state of Maine, and the festival was the perfect combination of local and global.
No doubt the excellent Clive Owen was a draw, and we saw all six of his featured movies, with the outstanding Children of Men (2006) being eerily prescient about the brutal treatment of immigrants.
Here is Clive himself talking about Children of Men, and his experience working on the movie with the great director Alfonso Cuarón.
Owen was charming, relaxed, and down-to-earth—in short, a perfect guest. I didn’t speak to him personally. He had quite the fan club, and at a reception for him at Front and Main in Waterville, I caught sight of him in one of the lounges where he was surrounded by an adoring circle of women. (There might have been a few men in the mix, but it seemed to me there were mostly women.) I concluded that he didn’t need one more woman in the mix.
The next day, we returned to Front and Main for chocolate martinis and their delicious mac and cheese. Also, a tasty dish of mushrooms.
Confession time: We ate out more than we usually do. We had pizza several times. Chinese food. A crunch cannoli. A flaky vegan croissant. And popcorn, lots and lots of popcorn. We were, after all, at the movies.
It never ceases to amaze me that we have the fabulous Paul J. Schupf Art Center in Waterville, Maine, population circa 16,000. Maine Film Center is on the second floor, and that’s where many of the movies were shown. The Opera House, right next door, was also a venue.
Even though I’m tired, I’m sorry that MIFF 2025 is over. Not only did we get a chance to see many movies that we wouldn’t see anywhere else, but we also met old friends and made a few new ones.
We’re already looking forward to MIFF 2026.
My Top 3 Movies of MIFF 2025
My Sunshine
This coming-of-age story, set in Japan, is quiet and poignant but never sentimental. When Takuya, a dreamy young boy, sees the lovely Sakura figure skating, he longs to skate with her. A sympathetic coach takes Takuya under his wing, and with a lot of practice, Takuya becomes good enough to skate with Sakura. Naturally, problems ensue, but they are not the problems that an American audience would expect, leading to a surprising ending.
Walk With Me
Walk with Me is a documentary directed by Heidi Levitt, chronicling life with her husband Charlie Hess and his diagnosis of early-onset Alzheimer disease. Filmed over four years, Walk with Me records the challenges that Charlie and Heidi face, but also the love, joy, and support they give and receive. This one moved me to tears. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a trailer for Walk with Me.
76 Days Adrift
In 1982, when a whale hit Steven Callahan’s boat and destroyed it, Callahan escaped in an inflatable life raft that had minimal provisions. As the title indicates, Callahan was stranded in that life raft in the Atlantic Ocean for 76 days. This documentary, based on Callahan’s memoir Adrift: 76 Days Lost at Sea, plunges the viewer into Callahan’s world, using some of the most incredible reenactments I have ever seen. We see a torso, legs, arms, and hands but never a face, and this provides a tense immersive experience, even though we know what the outcome is. Interspersed with the reenactments are clips and old photos as well as Callahan himself narrating his experience, providing details of how he survived.
76 Days Adrift is a must-see documentary. Readers, if it comes to a theater near you, go see it. And if doesn’t, perhaps it will be available through a streaming service. Anyway, look for it.
A blog about nature, home, books, movies, television, food, and rural life.
Notes From the Hinterland 