How do we face the inevitable questions about the end of life? Who will we leave behind? Who will we outlive? In this tear-jerking film about the joy of life and the agony of death, writer, producer, and director Ralph Ehrlich attempts to come to terms with the absolute inevitability of life.
Friday’s screening of the 2022 reflexive documentary “I Like it Here” at the 2024 True/False Film Fest was filled with love. “This is where I live now. I’m 78 years old,” Erlich said quietly.
His melancholy narration is tinged with dry humor and charming whistles. Reading this incredibly authentic and intimate work about the joie de vivre made me think deeply about my own mortality.
I was overwhelmed by the obvious humanity in “I Like it Here.” Erlich is filming as if through his own eyes. He points his camera directly at his subjects and captures everything he sees and does.
Even though I only showed a few subjects for a few minutes, I was hooked on all of them. At 88 minutes, this documentary is surprisingly fast-paced, and you could spend hours watching each character.
Erlich reminds us of how strange the passage of time is. After more than half a century, we meet Linda, her first love, and discover that she is the same person she was when we met.
We sit down with writer Mel Watkins (who, as an existentialist teenager, claimed he wouldn’t live past 30), in the college dormitory where his parents sent him 60 years ago. walk.
We follow the journey of our neighbor, Pat, as his memory deteriorates and he ends up in a nursing home, eventually passing away.
We watch Erlich and his wife, Elizabeth, administer home dialysis to an 18-year-old cat suffering from kidney failure, savoring the last moments of her life. Existence is fleeting, but every time we say goodbye, we are always reminded to revisit old friends, lovers, and places.
“What would happen if he went first… who would bury whom?” Erlich asks.
When Erlich thinks about growing old, I can’t help but think of my parents and grandparents. As he and his wife chose their cemetery plot, I thought about the impermanence of his life. When he visits a crumbling university building with its underground editing studio and projection room still intact, I am reminded of my childhood home.
The clock is ticking and the seasons are changing. Not only is the theme of this personal essay moving, but so is the camera work and artistry. The director incorporates old films taken throughout his life into this documentary. In one piece titled “Acquired Taste,” he examines his receding hairline. “I can survive until I’m 40, but in 20 years I’ll be 60,” Ehrlich said.
The filmmaking itself plays with timelines, and while the documentary certainly blurs the natural order, it remains surprisingly authentic.
“Shouldn’t we be filming everything? What a strange idea,” said Ehrlich, whose neurologist asked her to put away her camera during the appointment.
The invasive nature of his filming process is raw and fresh. Erlich manages to get into people’s faces and force them to face uncomfortable truths while maintaining an incredibly soft and sensitive tone. His interactions with his friends and neighbors feel so warm, like watching old home movies.
Before the film began, Ehrlich told the audience, “There’s nothing like a True/False audience.” Those who went to see the movie loved the many people they met along the way, said their goodbyes and left.
Towards the end of the film, Erlich says, “I like it here,” and “I like it here,” giving True/False viewers a boost for life. Everyone’s experience inevitably ends in death, but we have to spend time. Limited time to connect with people around you.
Edited by Alex Goldstein and Alyssa Royston | agoldstein@themaneater.com and aroyston@themaneater.com
Copy Editor: Briana Iordan | biordan@themaneater.com
