Beth Bosh review of My Name is Joy

Well, ‘Joy’ was so good it knocked me clear out of my flu. Woke up at 2 am. Too sick to sleep, and watched it with Bob on the laptop screen across the room, standing in front of the woodstove,  

 I love the time warp.  It was so Charles Darwin finally dealing with The Origin of the Species.

Like the same early, structured determination to keep a daily journal of what you expect to be the most meaningful journey of your life.

Which if molded immediately afterwards would have been discounted  as Bohemian, as Kerouwacky at the beginning of  that decade of  ‘greed is good’ and Charles Hurwitz’s ‘he who has the gold rules,’  where the story was big, and about the moguls v. the multitudes and the ferals were the heroes.

That built-in dilemma of a paradigm shifter;  that it takes the necessary 20 years to be timely.  This year (one year into a decade of desperate searchings for routes to economic recovery) is the year for a small personal movie of two souls so obviously matched, role modeling deeply felt lives in a poorer, but no where near starving western world. 

 Beginning 'My Name Is Joy' as a figure drawing  perfect “little art film”, getting more and more U-tubey as you drive out of your comfort zone and the household mess in the middle of the perfect eco-system-y woods.

And it could have come across as Kerouwacky. Instead it comes across as homage. Made with the same intimate honesty as the road trip-flavored  'The Book of Seeing With One's Own Eyes' (which Sharon Doubiago offers as the  translation of 'autopsy'). Came across as soul mates meet without the comic relief of the matchmaker, Sharon glowing at the end with the matchmaker within—came across like the beauty of the butterfly allotted 24 hours of life.  And it’s got an honest-to-goodness turning point! . . . . It is going to get so much attention.

Get it to Toronto. Get it to Sundance. Bring it to the Mendocino Film Festival.

P.S. Do you know how really good a sequence that drunk scene followed by the bed time story is. The best philosophy spoken while some jerk is talking too loud into his cell phone. This really is a touching film.
--Beth Bosk
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