The Secret Art of Human Flight, 2024.
Directed by H.P. Mendoza.
Starring Grant Rosenmeyer, Paul Raci, Maggie Grace, Lucy DeVito, Reina Hardesty, Sendhil Ramamurthy, Jennean Farmer, Dustin Hahn, and Nican Robinson.
SYNOPSIS:
In the wake of a tragedy, a grieving widower turns to a mysterious self-help book from the dark web written by an eccentric guru, which promises to unlock the power to fly.
A strangely whimsical and quirky take on grieving, H.P. Mendoza’s The Secret Art of Human Flight (scripted by Jesse Orenshein) follows the recently widowed Ben Grady (Grant Rosenmeyer) connecting with a self-help hippie going by the name of Mealworm (Paul Raci, this time putting a lighter, goofier spin on these life coach roles he continues to excel at) who has been caught on camera in a YouTube video as possessing the ability to fly. Expectedly, the comments under the video are nothing but accusations of special-effects trickery. One reply also stands out, claiming to be the man in the video with a dark web link that puts Ben in touch with him to start a cultlike process of preparing his mind, body, and soul to take flight.
Understandably, Ben’s sister (Lucy DeVito) is concerned but also trying to manage her love life. Well-meaning characters catch wind of him browsing the dark web, stressing to him the dangers of doing anything on there, unaware that Ben has already sent five grand to Mealworm for a grammatically inept manifest explaining away titular art form. It’s also not long before Mealworm, living inside a Winnebago, arrives to give Ben more direct and personal mentoring. The book itself is mined for some reasonably clever visual gags (Ben incorporating flour into one of the training exercises rather than a flower.)
Whether or not viewers believe the video doesn’t matter. Similarly, it doesn’t matter to Ben whether any of this is legitimate, which is affectingly articulated through the stellar turn from Grant Rosenmeyer, conveying an empty, directionless husk of a human being more concerned with escaping his inner thoughts than the reality of the situation. Especially since his marriage with Sarah (Reina Hardesty) was rocky in its final days before she suddenly and inexplicably died from asphyxiation; they were both writers of children’s books, with his wife being more accomplished and having received more lucrative opportunities, something that possibly might have made him bitter.
One of the more unnecessary jigsaw pieces that don’t fit here is the inclusion of a detective (Rosa Arredondo) investigating the possibility of Ben being involved with Sarah’s death. It simply doesn’t work tonally because we know this is not a thriller or the type of narrative where such a potential revelation should be in the back of our minds. Far more compelling regarding supporting characters is watching Ben bond with a friend of Sarah’s (Maggie Grace), who is also struggling to get over the loss.
Then there are the antics Ben is forced to endure, ranging from cleaning out his home and decorating one room with clouds hanging from the ceiling and painted blue walls to physical prompts such as long jumping. It’s amusing material that the chemistry between Grant Rosenmeyer and Paul Raci sells. The latter also gets to make a handful of wisecracking retorts to characters questioning his intentions or referring to his Winnebago as an RV. It’s the kind of endearing spiritual leader performance with enough charm and sass to just as much work on the audience.
It’s not a spoiler to say that some of this is a metaphor for possibly going through with suicide, but all that will be said is that The Secret Art of Human Flight keeps things light even during some of its more emotional moments, with emphasis on living and human connection. Even with a subplot of Ben and Sarah having recorded video logs for one another upon passing suggesting what they should do with the rest of their lives, it knows when to pull away and return to something ridiculous, playing into this subversive and pleasantly oddball take on grieving. Admittedly, it’s about a chapter too repetitive and eventually takes a misguided detour, focusing on Mealworm’s intentions a bit too much, but it does take flight for a satisfying and well-earned emotional climax.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
