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Some Kind of Heaven (Lance Oppenheim, 2020)
🕑 Added 2021-01-23 00:40:05 +0000 UTC
Some Kind of Heaven is a tough film to evaluate. As a documentary, it more than accomplishes what it sets out to do. By focusing on life in The Villages, Florida -- the largest retirement community in the U.S. -- Lance Oppenheim's film shows us a group of compelling "characters" who, in their different ways, are emblematic of "the graying of America" and an extreme version of ersatz, neoliberal happiness being sold as the apex of American accomplishment, one's "reward" for a Boomer life well lived.
This is Oppenheim's first documentary feature, and if we consider it a place to start a career, it's a fine achievement. But taken on its face, Some Kind of Heaven is far too similar to the styles of two highly individual documentarians, Errol Morris and Ulrich Seidl. With its still camera, wide angle compositions, and its depiction of recreation as another form of labor, Some Kind of Heaven immediately calls to mind films like Morris' Gates of Heaven and Vernon, Florida, as well as Seidl's Jesus, You Know, Safari, and In the Basement. And the flourishes that appear to be Oppenheim's own -- especially a series of slow zooms in or out of a subject's personal space -- feel intrusive, both formally and ethically.
If you can get past the nagging sense of deja vu, there's some interesting material here that is worth considering. Oppenheim zeroes in on four residents of The Villages, each of whom seems to reflect a different gerontological problem. A couple, Anne and Reggie, are experiencing marital strife because Reggie has had a late-life epiphany regarding Eastern spirituality and the consumption of lots of drugs. (At one point he claims to have already died, appearing on earth as a mere manifestation of his former self. Anne just wants to drink hard lemonade and play cards.) Dennis, a homeless man with no money in his bank account, lives out of his van, hanging around The Villages in hopes of seducing a woman who will supply him with material comforts he lacks. And Barbara, the most compelling (and least aggressively zany) subject, is a widow who is working to overcome depression and loneliness.
Oppenheim shows how the supposed Disneyland-for-Seniors atmosphere of The Villages -- golf! acting classes! dancing lessons! more golf! -- can be alienating for someone like Barbara. The radio and news reports, all piped in by The Village's management, suggest that if you're isolated, or even bored, that must be your own fault. What we understand is that all of these people had full lives prior to arriving at The Villages. But the community, structured a bit like a never-ending summer camp, treats its denizens as if their life started upon arrival, and all their needs must be about the same.
All of this is made especially clear in Barbara's case. She is willing to put herself out there, even going so far as to let a potential suitor take her to a Parrothead Club shindig. (I mean jesus.) But she soon finds that the guy is more interested in partying and margaritas than emotional intimacy. An entire film about Barbara, or at least one less weighed down by subjects Oppenheim subtly looks down on, would've been far richer. But I suppose it's easier to entertain from an ironic distance. The Villages is revealed in all its flamingo colored fakery, but Oppenheim implies that wackos like Reggie, and scam artists like Dennis, are having precisely the golden years they deserve.
