Mondays with Mike: On screens near you

It’s been years since Beth and I attended a movie at like, you know, a movie theater. Part of that is we filter for kinds of movies that Beth likely can enjoy—dialog-heavy, play-like movies. They’re kind of few and far between, and then when we note one that would be a good bet, we’re late to the draw and find it’s already left the local theaters and maybe we see it streaming, maybe not.

Over the past few months there have been more releases of stuff we’d consider than usual. “Can you ever forgive me?”, “The Frontrunner,” “Wildlife,” and “Green Book” all come to mind.

A scene from Green Book. Click to visit trailer.

Well, on Thanksgiving last week, we headed to our local theater to see a matinee, “Green Book.” I’ll never be accustomed to escalators, electronic ticket kiosks, reserved seating and the absolutely awful popcorn that seems to be standard in today’s multiplexes. Or the reclining seats we scored in the disabled seating section (Whitney came along for the walk). Beth, on the other hand, was horizontal snuggled with her coat as a blanket within minutes.

After endless previews and a Dolby sound demonstration loud enough to damage one’s hearing, the movie finally started.

We both liked it a lot. If you’re a Viggo Mortensen fan (I am), it’s almost worth it just for his performance. If you’re a Mahershala Ali fan (I am now), it’s almost worth it just for his performance. Without question, their combined performance plus that of Linda Cardellini is worth the price of admission.

Because of the backdrop—the Jim Crow South, a North that had and has its own institutionalized problems—the movie is fraught. Some reviews say it sugar coated things and lets racists and institutionalized racism off the hook. I didn’t think so.

I’ve read up on the protagonists—the movie is based on a true story—which is a pretty damn good story without any dramatic help. But movies are movies, and I could tell where liberties were taken to state or, in some cases, overstate a point. There was some predictable schmaltz But I, for one, felt tension—authentic tension—from the start that carried through the movie. The kind where you’re dreading something really bad is about to happen even when something good is happening. That’s good filmmaking.

Everyone’s entitled to their opinions. Mine is that this movie wasn’t made to address institutionalized racism. It was made to tell a story, which it did like only a well-made movie can. And thanks to the movie, a whole lot more people are likely to learn more about the story.

Then, last night, we watched another movie called “Pick of the Litter,” thanks to the generosity of our friend Nancy, who streamed it. I don’t think there will be a whole lot of controversy about this one. (Although, you never know.)

Warning: Rated XXX for puppy porn.

Anyway, “Pick of the Litter” chronicles the birth of a litter of prospective guide dogs, their training and socialization by puppy raisers, they’re guide dog training with an instructor, and being paired with a visually impaired partner.

It was filmed at Guide Dogs for the Blind in California. GDB is on the other side of the United States from The Seeing Eye in New Jersey, where Beth has trained with four dogs. But they operate very similarly. For example, every puppy in a litter gets a name with the same first letter. Poppin, Primrose, Patriot, etc.

A lot of what Beth does in daily life—and I, too, to a lesser extent—is explain how the guide dog process works, and how it doesn’t work, often correcting completely understandable misconceptions.

This movie addresses virtually every question and misconception people have ever brought up. And it just nails the process: the incredible amount of training that has to accompany just the right canine demeanor to make a successful guide. The bottomless generosity of puppy raisers who adopt pups in training, put an enormous effort into socializing and training their charges, and then, give them back to the school after a year.

The incredible thing: If a raiser’s dog flunks out at any point, he or she is typically given first dibs on adopting what becomes known as a “career change” dog. But to a person—and we experienced this when we met dozens of puppy raisers at The Seeing Eye—they deeply want their dog to clear all the hurdles and help someone, someone like Beth, for example.

It’s very well done, painstakingly accurate, occasionally heartbreaking, but—if you need reminded (as I do, oh, every day) how good people can be, I give it four paws up.