The Sleeper Life of Walter Mitty

I’ve always like Walter Mitty.  I saw part of the movie on TV once at my Great Aunt’s house and then read the short story and then watched the whole movie.  I can relate to Walter.  And I’ll argue with anyone who says that he’s about escapism, pure and simple.  There’s a far more complex motivation.  But that’s neither here or there.

I finally watched the remake this past weekend and it left me torn.  I didn’t think it had anything to do with the original.  That disappointed me.  But it was a fun movie to watch.  In the end, I liked it.  I would probably enjoy it even more a second time because I won’t have the expectation that it should be different than what it is – sort of like the Bourne Supremacy which I didn’t really care for the first time because I couldn’t get passed how much they ruined one of the best espionage novels I’ve ever read.

You may think watching a movie like Walter’s more than once to be rather dull since you already know what’s going to happen and there aren’t exactly exciting chases/fights/CGI migraine inducing flights of whimsy, or even the cleverness of the original’s fantasies.  You would be mistaken.  If I had any honest complaint with the film it was how incredibly predictable it was.  To be fair, it wasn’t as clear to the rest of the family so either I was in tune or they were content to sit back and enjoy it.

That’s also not much of a complaint.  You know exactly where it’s going from the moment you decide to watch it.  It wasn’t as funny as you’d expect from a comedy, and it wasn’t nearly serious enough to be drama.  Sort of exactly kind of like, well, you know… life.

Walter had a wonderfully portrayed arc.  Sean Penn let me down but that could easily have been his dialogue.  It didn’t matter.  This was about Walter and the movie took time to let us enjoy his adventures.  I mean, really, what other movie would invest so much time in long boarding down a deserted mountain highway in Iceland?  And make it worthwhile?

It was also very funny in places.  Clever funny and smart funny and bumbling funny without ever being gross.  The shark and porpoises.  It’s worth watching just for that.

Part of what made Walter so special before was his tendency to drift off into dream worlds all the time.  That happened a little bit in this version but really not very often.  It was talked about a lot, but we stayed with the real Walter most of the time.  That bothered me at first but it worked.  This was a different telling for a different time.  And it drove his arc.

If you think that Transformers 2 was the greatest movie ever made you will likely find The Secret Life of Walter MItty to be dull.  Otherwise you will discover a man you can root for, the quintessential introverted nice guy who learns it’s okay to chase your dreams.  Walter is different at the end of the film than the start, but unlike most other character stories like this, the difference is on the inside and his life really only changes for him.

The rotten tomatoes rating is overly harsh.

"Your small minds are musclebound with suspicion. That's because the only exercise you ever get is jumping to conclusions."

Oh my, it's already Fri.  I had this foolish notion yesterday that I should, as part of my preparation for the Army 10 miler, do a long run.  I carefully crafted an up and down route that covered 7.5 miles of scenic deer fly and woodchuck infested countryside.  I'm still limping around.  I wouldn't mind the limping around so much except I'm

out of sympathy and have to get my own coffee now.

Today's original work of fiction is a children's story without pictures - I'm a terrible artist, use your imagination.  Please.Untitled
by Jonathan Stark
July, 2013 (359 words)

When I was little I thought my dad was a weatherman because he always told me when I needed to wear a raincoat or mittens.  He could tell me if it was a good day to go swimming with my friends or if I would be able to go sledding on the hill out back.  He taught me about barometric pressure, the types of clouds, and the changing seasons.  But he wasn't a weatherman.

When I was little I thought my dad was a policeman because he always knew right from wrong and made sure I did too.  He helped people who were lost or needed help across the street.  He taught me (and everyone else on the road) about who had the right of way.  But he wasn't a policeman.

When I was little I thought my dad was a lumberjack because he would spend weeks in the woods with the Stihl chainsaw that was as big as me and cut down trees that were taller than our house.  He'd pull the hangers with the tractor and chain, chop the logs with the axe and maul, and stack the wood in huge piles near the house.  He taught me the difference between oak, maple, hemlock, and pine; the perfect way to notch a tree so it falls just so; and even how to back up with a trailer.  But I was wrong, he wasn't a lumberjack.

When I was little I thought my dad was a farmer because he planted gardens and raised animals.  There were tomatoes and chickens, cherries and rabbits, peppers and even sheep.  Our neighbors had a cow that would come to visit but they weren't farmers.  Turns out I was wrong about my dad too, he wasn't a farmer either.

When I was little I thought my dad was a carpenter because he built our house and all of the buildings around it.  Walls, shelves, sheds, tables, decks, even our swimming pool.  He taught me to use circular saws, coping saws, hack saws, saber saws, back saws, and a see-saw.  Of course, I was wrong.  He wasn't a carpenter.

My dad was a teacher.