A group of crows is called a murder. A group of ravens: an unkindness. If you find a dead bird, it is a sign of bad things to come, and in some cultures, if a bird flies into your home, you can be certain that death, in some form, is on its way. The canary is taken into the coal mine because it will always die first, and Prometheus, that cursed god, had his liver eaten out every single day by the same, unwavering eagle. Birds are linked to wretched things, and their knowledge of flight makes them fickle and unpredictable. Death is like this, also. It creeps up on us when we least expect it, robbing us of future memories and time, leaving only grief in its wake.
H.P. Mendoza’s latest film, The Secret Art of Human Flight, is an exploration of this grief that opens up and devours us after a loved one dies. In Ben Grady’s (Grant Rosenmeyer) case, his grief consumes him after his wife, Sarah (Reina Hardesty), unexpectedly passes away. The couple are in their 30s — young enough to still consider their whole lives to be ahead of them — and they make a living writing, illustrating and self-publishing children’s books. Sarah and Ben seemingly have a beautiful marriage full of love and mutual understanding, but after Sarah shockingly dies from anaphylaxis while Ben is at the grocery store, the cracks in their love story begin to reveal themselves. If this sounds sinister, it really isn’t, and that’s because while The Secret Art of Human Flight toys with the idea of a scandalous whodunit, its main motive is really focused on the crazy ways grief upends our whole lives.
Derailed by Sarah’s death, Ben is only able to move forward with his life after discovering a man named Mealworm (Paul Raci) on the dark web. For the low price of $5,400, Mealworm promises to teach you how to fly. While this might sound like a veiled euphemism for assisted suicide, Ben actually believes that, under Mealworm’s tutelage, he can learn to take to the skies just like a bird. It’s a bit unclear how flight is going to help him process or accept the passing of his wife, but Ben’s devotion to Mealworm takes on an obsessive quality that eventually threatens to destroy the rest of the relationships in his life. The only one who seemingly understands Ben’s need to fly is Sarah’s friend Wendy (Maggie Grace), a widow, as well.
The Secret Art of Human Flight is both funny and poetic. Ben’s relationship with Mealworm feels like a guru version of Daniel LaRusso and Mr. Miyagi, and Raci’s portrayal of Mealworm delivers the perfect blend of quirky and questionable. We want to trust him as much as Ben does, but to do so, we also have to believe that human flight is achievable—a task that seems difficult. Therein lies the intricacies of the film, though, forcing us to contend with the unimaginable and unbelievable power grief can have over a person. There is also an interesting emphasis on social media and the digital footprint — both Ben and Sarah seem to have been extremely online with their children’s books, and most of the footage we get of Sarah is from these recorded snippets of their past — that manages to give the film an added layer of complexity when it comes to processing the death of a loved one when their online profiles are still accessible and seemingly unchanged.
But even though the film lays out a handful of very interesting concepts, it never truly seems to get around to taking a stance on any one thing. Maybe this is because there are too many loose ends — Mealworm, Wendy, the whole business with the police believing Ben is a murderer—that never fully get resolved, so that when the film’s final act begins to play out, everything feels rushed. In fact, even though we do get an answer to the question of whether or not Ben achieves flight, the film’s overarching message doesn’t feel entirely complete. Maybe this is by design—grief, after all, is an undefinable experience — but in a movie that spends so much time badgering its protagonist for his questionable beliefs and behaviors, you expect the payoff to feel slightly more vindicating. Still, The Secret Art of Human Flight is an interesting, if not entirely realized, exploration of one of life’s most difficult emotions. Just don’t expect it to sweep you off your feet.
Photo courtesy of Level 33 Entertainment
The post The Secret Art of Human Flight appeared first on Spectrum Culture.