Rating: 7 out of 10.

Are you ready to leave this world behind?

Ben Grady’s (Grant Rosenmeyer) life has effectively ended at the start of H.P. Mendoza’s The Secret Art of Human Flight. Sarah (Reina Hardesty), his wife and writing partner, has died suddenly and he is practically catatonic in the aftermath. No one knows what to say to knock him from his funk. His sister Gloria (Lucy DeVito) tries by forcing him to go outside, but he won’t even acknowledge her presence while letting her lead him there. Jesse Orenshein’s script is providing an undeniable depiction of depression with seemingly no way out while also giving Mendoza his first great gag once an opening credit time-lapse shows an immovable Ben stuck where she left him in the front yard for days.

It’s the perfect tonal entry point into the film. Flashbacks via recorded raw, emotional behind-the-scenes footage from social media clips to mine down into the complicated psyche of a couple struggling while maintaining hope they’ll have time to dig out and the present-day, nonsensical acts of a grieving man making impulse decisions for no reason other than to distract himself from the reality of his loss. The craziest choice he makes when finally getting out from under his blanket? Sending five grand to a man named Mealworm (Paul Raci) via the dark web in exchange for a promise to be taught how to “leave this world behind.”

The obvious assumption is, of course, that this is some metaphorical placeholder or thinly veiled disguise for suicide … and it is a bit of both. Does Ben want to kill himself? No. But he isn’t exactly fighting to live at the moment either and, considering Mealworm’s mode of escape is jumping off a cliff to “fly” away from his troubles, the alternative sure seems like a one-way ticket to a grave. What’s the alternative, though? Pretending like he’s okay with what’s happened? Moving on as if nothing happened at all? And since Detective Reyes (Rosa Arredondo) accusing him of being a suspect (despite no signs of foul play), snapping out of his funk would only amplify suspicion.

So, Ben follows Mealworm’s instructions. Jumping seven feet in the backyard, removing all chairs from his house, sleeping on the roof to be under the clouds, and spending an hour each day naked (amongst other equally weird activities). At a certain point it doesn’t matter to us whether the work he’s putting in will actually amount to him “flying.” We can’t really believe it due to the grounded nature of the film and the act itself is less a necessity than a means to an end. This is about Ben believing it enough to devote himself to the chance. It’s about getting out of his mind and away from the past to move forward and accomplish something even if that something isn’t exactly the thing he’s trying to do.

The result is a fun and poignant look at grief and loss. Ben might be at the center, but he isn’t alone with Mealworm and a neighbor (Maggie Grace’s Wendy) suffering too. While Gloria and her husband Tom (Nican Robinson) love and care about Ben, they can’t help but be a strong voice for the here and now that, albeit not intentionally, looks to erase Sarah from the present. Mealworm and Wendy aren’t necessarily trying to keep her at the front of Ben’s mind either, but they at least know where his head is at and agree he must find a distraction from the pain rather than a solution for it. Who cares if it’s an imaginative lark built upon silly check-stops devoid of rhyme or reason if it helps him to live again?

Mendoza does a nice job making the film look better than its budget constraints and Orenshein’s script gets to the heart of love and loss in both its goofy and sad moments. Raci, Grace, and DeVito are standouts on the supporting side and Rosenmeyer carries the narrative with a great sense of bent-to-hell-but-not-yet-completely-broken exasperation. I love that they all allow things to go off-the-wall into absurdity while still maintaining a level of emotional weight too because in many ways, despite the belief that flying is possible, not even Mealworm knows for certain if it is. But since it doesn’t need to be in the end, they can give it their all anyway. They can strive to remember that death mustn’t also be the end for those who still get to live.


Paul Raci and Grant Rosenmeyer in THE SECRET ART OF HUMAN FLIGHT; courtesy of Level 33 Entertainment.

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