In a single post, from Uncle Buck (1989) through Black Widow (2021), with a glance to Groundhog Day (1993), ending with Field of Dreams (1989). A meandering logic path perhaps, but read on.
There are a great many literary classics out there. Today, I am drawn to Uncle Buck (1989). Sure, not the pinnacle of John Hughes' catalog, but a phenomenal work nonetheless. The writing deserves significant credit. Today I am drawn close to the closing scene. Just as the parents return to a home remade in their absence and the angst-filled teenager tentatively awaits her mother. Their relationship in the beginning of the plot was perhaps detached, the teen perhaps standoffish.
As mom enters the house alone, the teen awaits. There is a symbolic distance between them, which closes only when mom makes a tentative approach, a few steps then a pause. A cutaway closeup for emotion, and then a return to them merely two feet apart. There is a pause, some music, and the teen falls into mom's arms without inhibition. Sensing the moment, mom delivers a prescient line "its going to be a little bit different, I promise."
The drama, the hesitancy, the reservation. We see the underlying emotion, the drive for reunion, the ponderous approach. In it, we are perhaps reminded of our own returns in recent months. Following the cold, dark, winter of SARS-CoV-2, people isolated, distanced, and hunkered. I fear that was far worse for many of you than I am capable of comprehending first hand. Until some people did something and I lost a bridge, I was in the office throughout the pandemic. We did not close, we did not falter, and we did not fail. You've heard that before, forgive me the outrageous pride I hold for Florida OJCC team that functioned day in and day out for you. They were, to a person, exceptional and outstanding.
Despite one's degree of isolation, everyone is experiencing some return home recently. We are stepping through that door uncertain of our expectations. I was thrilled to return to in-person educational opportunities, see We're Really Back (April 2021), which followed on the heels of A Great Hamburger with a Smile (April 2021). I have celebrated our return to full normal and striven to recognize that many of us were blessed with a far more acceptable pandemic than many of you (my greatest respect goes to those who were caregivers through that time, teach-at-home parents, folks with live-in relatives, etc.).
The Black Widow (2021) got me thinking about all this. Imagine the strange neural pathways that lead from John Candy, John Hughes, and the pandemic to Scarlett Johansson and Florence Pugh. This movie came to mind because I was in the vanguard that flocked to the theater to view Black Widow on the opening night last week. It was somewhat cathartic, like my recent returns to conferences, wait staff sans masks, and the bridge that is a bridge again. It was a step forward on a path that frankly feels pretty good. There was familiarity and some nostalgia mixed in the crowd.
Crowd is a fair noun and adjective in this sense. I was not alone. According to Yahoo Finance, I was far from isolated or alone. The movie "secured the highest pandemic-era opening to date, raking in $80 million at the domestic box office." And, according to analysts, the movie "spells 'big trouble' for theater chains." Eighty million may not sound like "trouble," but the article proceeds to note that despite being a great opening weekend, the movie simultaneously opened on a streaming service and generated $60 million in rental fees (at $30 each). The "box office" was about 57% of the total.
This is not a pandemic alone. This is not about Black Widow alone. One analyst was quoted that "This is a watershed moment for the (film) industry." The perception or conclusion is that those who produce entertainment (studios) are gaining leverage from the streaming paradigm. It is a distribution that builds direct customer relations and "cuts out the middleman." That the stream opening nearly equals the theater is seen as important. In the post-COVID world. it is possible that health concerns continue to drive the streaming alternative. But, it is also possible that we are witnessing a continuation of a marked and permanent change in the appetite for expensive tickets, big crowds, and $15.00 popcorn.
There is reticence expressed. The cineplex is not dead, but it is threatened. "Directly to consumer" is gaining ground. That is bad news for a cinema business that was said to be struggling for profitability before the pandemic. We have seemingly never had so many entertainment alternatives, and the decreasing allure for theaters is as likely due to the bigger and better technology that cohabitates with us. In my day, having your own personal TV was rare. Most families owned one; it was a 19-inch screen, and there were 3-5 channels if you counted PBS. It was not the experience you get on a relatively "cheap" ($350) fifty-inch flat screen today.
This is not new. Country clubs struggle for members, as do a plethora of other social organizations. Part of this is on the doorstep of social media. Our virtual friendships are replacing the real thing. In 2000, Robert Putnam published Bowling Alone. He pointed out how we, societally, were becoming increasingly isolated, introverted, and disengaged. The Silent Generation and even Boomers were much more likely to be in a bowling league, service club, or similar than young adults are today. In a general sense, we are in the midst of a great detachment from real-world society. The transition to streaming may be a combination of technology, proclivity, convenience, and modernity. But, regardless of cause, it appears for now to be real.
Is this important? What does this have to do with workers' compensation? (I hear Staler and Waldorf from the balcony as I write sometimes). I suggest that the transition you are witnessing in the movies is metaphorical for a much larger concern or at least curiosity. With Zoom and similar, it is now possible for us to recline in our Lazyboy and engage the world digitally. We need never be in the same room with our client, our opponent, our "friends," or even family. It is entirely possible that you can convince yourself that this is apropos and acceptable. You are wrong.
The workplace will change. There will be more remote work in 2025 than there was in 2015. And, that trend is likely to progress. But, there is value in human interaction. Stopping at a coworker's desk unannounced to question her/his weekend plans has value. Complimenting a new tie has value. Bringing in some cookies, doughnuts, or similar to share has value. But in a grander sense, there is a benefit to our collective presence in pursuit of mutual purpose. In short, we are different when together in an office, mediation, or hearing and there is value there. The greatest thing we can foster is community, and you just don't get that streaming a movie in your dark and distant living room.
As the title promised, we now evolve to the metaphorical Field of Dreams (1989). Explaining why the corn was plowed under and a ball field built in the great nothingness that is Iowa, this speech is delivered:
“People will come, Ray. They’ll come to Iowa for reasons they can’t even fathom…They’ll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past . . .. The memories will be so thick they’ll have to brush them away from their faces… This field, this game: it’s a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again.”
The same can be said of that restaurant, cinema, service club, or your local, friendly Florida OJCC office. Those paradigms, that human interaction, that nostalgia is right here and awaiting you. "It'll be as if (you were) dipped . . . in magic waters." Come back to the interpersonal, the live hearings, the in-person mediations, and more. "it's going to be a little bit different, I promise." But it will be good. As Phil Conner reminded us in Groundhog Day (1989), "anything different is good." Getting back to the in-person will be good. Good for you, your clients, your customers, and the community.
Even if you insist on experiencing Scarlett Johansson and Florence Pugh (Black Widow) from your own television, find ways to re-engage with life in person. We need you to be more than a text message, email, or even voice on the line, and you need us more than you perhaps know. Come on back, the "memories will be so thick." We may not "return" to where we were, but there will be a return to offices, conferences, classrooms, and proceedings. People need community and personal interaction. The workers' compensation process will thrive on you being here in person and we are ready to have you back.
And, if you do decide to eat out, "don't forget to tip your servers." I have waited tables and trust me it is a tough way to make a living. A smile and "thank you" wouldn't hurt for that matter, and that's true with any business you visit. "I'll be here all week. Try the veal."
