2:28

Eventually, all things merge into one.

Sometimes, very occasionally, film can become a great piece of art. This final scene in ‘A River Runs Through It‘ is for me, one of the most hauntingly beautiful scenes in cinematic history. Every element is perfect; the cinematography, the under-stated actor portraying Normal Maclean, and of course, Robert Redford’s narration of the final page of the book.

I was living in Idaho in 1992, when this movie came out and I had just opened the College Market Bookstore and Coffeeshop.

I saw the movie at The Reel Theatre in Pocatello and immediately went back to the store, pulled the book off the shelf, and read all night, finishing just before time to start warming the espresso machine and making coffee for the morning shift.

I’ve had a great love for this book now for all these decades, re-reading it every 5 or 6 years. In Missoula a few years ago for a rugby tournament, I visited a makeshift shrine dedicated to Maclean at one of the local bookstores.

Occasionally I watch the movie again, but I’ll never forget the first time I saw this amazing scene. I’ve referenced it many times over the years in these writings.

Maclean’s final few pages seem to encompass the entirety of our lives from the hope of youth to the exuberance of love and family and friendship and then to the eventual reckoning of our last days. And critically, the inexplicable cruelty and hopelessness of our inability to save or bring relief to those we love or care about.

The title of this post is the length of this clip and also the time I woke this morning, thinking about what’s going on in Minnesota and this country and the heaviness of feeling helpless.