Mr. Rogers in Today's Day & Age

The trailer for Won't You Be My Neighbor? had me crying. Then again, on multiple occasions when I was finally able to see the feature length documentary a few weeks ago. My local independent theater has kept the movie running for four weeks (an unusual feat) and, thanks in part to the heartfelt doc, had their best week in sales since opening seventeen years ago. Likewise, Neighbor is doing alright in the box office; it's in the top twenty (sixteenth at the moment) with its sights on at least a few more spots further up the list before its theater run comes to a close. When the final credits appeared on the screen during my viewing, a woman let out an audible, "wow." Then, a few minutes later when walking out, people were huddled together in little groups as though consoling each other after an emotional or spiritual event. What I'm trying to say is: the movie has resonated with audiences.

I believe the last few years of American political, social, and cultural unrest are the manifestations of decades and centuries of already present turmoil and brokenness. The courageous voices of those on the margins, the BlackLivesMatter movement, the MeToo campaign, and others are bringing to light critical injustices. We have a president who is intent on speaking and acting with whatever the antonym of civility is. And we all have our own stories and hardships and relational gunk to deal with. It's fair to say we live in tumultuous times as we work to move forward one day at a time. It's no surprise that it's become somewhat of a cliche to refer to a number of albums, movies, books, or [fill in the blank] as just what we need in these days. But... this is a movie we need in this season.

Neighbor excels in story telling and original footage and key interviews and editing (biggest component of compelling documentaries IMO!). But mostly it highlights the life and work of Fred Rogers, our friendly and kind Mr. Rogers. An ordained Presbyterian minister from Pittsburgh, Rogers sought out to do kids television in a manner that treated children as real, three dimensional human beings. He didn't water down his messages, he didn't act goofy, he didn't follow the fads of kids programming. He spoke about difficult topics. He worked towards including people with disabilities or sharing the screen with a person of color. He boldly claimed that "feelings are mentionable and manageable" to Congress. He wasn't perfect. But he consistently called out the value of each and every person. And he lived out his faith in real and tangible ways.

At this time in my life, I need models of generous humanity and sincere spirituality. Including a few other modern heroes of mine, I hope for the wisdom and eloquence of a Marilynne Robinson, the exuberance and action of a Chance the Rapper, and the kindness and honesty of a Fred Rogers.