such is the question repeatedly brought forth in the most recent installment of Jason Reitman’s dramatic films. Ryan Bingham (well performed by George Clooney), the strangely admirable, itinerant professional who delivers pink slips to the newly departed as a career, recites this question with just about as much detachment as he feels toward everyone else in his life. The analogy, which feels more trite than dynamic at the beginning of the movie, takes on increasingly darker shades of irony as Bingham’s lifestyle starts crumbling. What’s even more hackneyed is that such devastation sources from two of the most traditional wellsprings of human turmoil: one’s legacy, and one’s romances.
While I mention that these themes are cliche, I want to recognize that this film is both entertaining and thought-provoking. I (like my brother) would strongly recommend watching it, if for nothing else than to pick up a few tips on how to save time at the airport. Rather than continue explaining the film, which I hope folks will just watch anyway, I think it’s more interesting to muse on its themes. The question that I feel everyone exiting the theater must ask themselves is: how much am I weighed down by all of the possessions, property, and people in my life, and which of these things are potentially keeping me from being happy in life?
I’ll be honest, I think being a 20-something is great. I liked being a teenager, so maybe I just appreciate life in general; however, I would assert that right now I am free to pursue what I feel makes me happy. I have integrated myself in to the humble roots of a career, so I recognize that freedom no longer extends to all areas of my life– but I’ve made very few concessions in trading freedom for conveniences. But, I have to look no further than 4 months back, witnessing how much crap I had to pack last time I switched apartments, and it’s clear that there’s real inertia against pursuing alternative lifestyles and remaining dynamic. Clearly, my ability to remain mobile is disintegrating rapidly. Perhaps worse, I never realized I was trading more than money when I invested in some of the larger, heavier things I acquired in the past year and a half of graduate school.
What about relationships? I think the movie discussed the burdens of friendships and relationships quite well, fittingly using the phrase “everybody needs a copilot.” At my age, all that everyone seems to prioritize is whether they’re with someone for right now, but the long-term relationships and marriage are more often taboo in our circles, not something that we publicly recognize as a motivation for dating or friendships. The film gives only one scenario of how such thinking, perpetuated for too long, can (seemingly) only lead to limitless emptiness. Certainly, marriages fail obscenely frequently and family ties one down, but the pursuit of love can somehow defend against the visceral ache of loneliness despite the pain that relationships bring. Now, I’ve never successfully imagined myself as married, replete with family, house, and career. Only recently have I been able to envision myself with a career, but to conceive of myself as married with all that entails is still beyond my imagination. I can only assume that such a future is out there, though, and I’m happy with that much at the moment.
Because, let’s face it: figuratively loading a friend into your backpack is well worth the weight if your only alternative is to blaze the trail alone.