Last night, thumbing through the channels to find something good to fall asleep to, I stumbled on an old favorite, Witness. Remember Witness? 1985, Harrison Ford, the Amish, etc.? Such a great movie. Oddly enough, it was on the Spike channel, which means that a scene depicting an Amish community at a barn raising picnic cut immediately to a Girls Gone Wild commercial. It was a fascinating split-second trip through time and cultural evolution. Or devolution.

I'm no Roger Ebert, but the sexual tension between John Book and Rachel Lapp is as good as it gets in film. And unlike most films, the tension is never resolved in some cliché missionary fluid exchange. It's resolved in an awkward but poignant parting without words. Perfect. And I was never a big Kelly McGillis fan, but shit she's beautiful in that film. Maybe it's the bonnet.

It's a movie that's easy on the eyes and ears: The sprawling farm, plain clothes, the subdued colors, even the long, whispery drones of the all-synth soundtrack seduces you into an odd serenity. I like the blue shirts and suspenders. I like the beards and the hats. And that sense of community...if it doesn't elicit a wistful sigh from you, you're hardened. Don't know 'boutchoo, but I think it's awfully nice just knowing that these people, with their almost total disengagement from modern society, are still thriving. And largely undisturbed.

When little Samuel rings that bell at the end and all the townsfolk come to their aid, whew...I think I got bit misty. A community that strong is just so alien to us. I don't know. I guess I'd just like to help raise a barn for each and every one my friends. Maybe someday.

If you haven't seen Witness, dig it up.

Labels: at home, commentary