THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
I often tell British friends that I’m more well-traveled in Europe than I am in my own country; born in New Jersey, schooled in Pennsylvania, summers on the beach, my American life was a fairly sheltered Northeastern existence, I like to say. I have never stood on the western banks of the Mississippi (to my shame) and the first time I was south of the Mason Dixon line as an adult was in my early 30s.
But I yearn to be.
And after seeing Bill Rosenfield's theatric paean to the great American road trip, an ode itself to True Fans, Dan Austin’s own paean of a documentary to the uniting power of Basketball and the open road of America, I feel as close as I’ve ever felt to that sense of undying optimism that is psychologically tethered to the North Atlantic odyssey, in this case by bike, from one coast to the other.
This beautifully paced story opens with Austin’s premise for the trip: a yearning to break out of a closed bubble of life and a constant loop of headlines and toxic media feeds and to, Thoreau-like, suck the marrow from life by tapping in to the heart – in the midst of the heartland – of America. It's a journey from the uttermost west to the northeast to pay homage to the sport that unites two brothers and a best friend in the Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, Massachusetts.
It helps that it is driven forward by the boundless energy of a trio of talented actors bouncing as deftly as the Harlem globetrotters from scene to scene, contrasting quickly between flashbacks, flashforwards and moments of profound and quiet contemplation, which is one of the reasons this show works so well. It is, at its essence, a series of picaresque episodes of self-discovery, drawing favorable comparisons to a number of coming of age stories. It is a little like watching a version of Stand By Me with characters in their 20s instead of early teens enduring experiences, experiencing epiphanies, and putting the bonds of friendship and brotherhood through the ultimate stress-tests and growing stronger as a result.
But the magic is in the back-and-forth motion between the Louis Theroux/Jon Ronson-like craziness of an unwelcoming town of one man, the beer commercial sporty fantasy of Austin’s best friend Clint being invited to share a hot tub with Swedish sisters; and the calmer, carefully cultivated moments between Austin, his brother and their mayonnaise obsessed Uncle Larry – withdrawn completely from a boulevard of broken dreams of his own; a heartbroken farmer living with the end of his marriage and the loss of two children; or an equally heartbroken but generous subway employee who takes pity on three bedraggled, Utah Jazz-crazy, basketball pilgrims sopping wet and seeking refuge and finding cold pizza, cornflakes and philosophy. Clear character expertise is on hand with the comic timing and brash physicality of Jacob Lovick, Rosanna Suppa and Marco Young taking turns as the eccentric variety of fellow ‘mericans met along the way.
Another America presents us with a vibrant and perpetually moving palimpsest of American stories, collected and stitched together, and deftly orchestrated under Joseph Winters’ direction, as compelling and kinetic as the '96 championships between the Jazz and The Supersonics. And it captures that sense of wondrous potential as well, which seems to be the unsaid intention of this domestic odyssey. As Austin, played to contemplative and charismatic perfection by Marco Young, tells us in some of the poignant and surprisingly pathos-filled closing moments, "whenever you throw a ball in the air there is the possibility that it’s going to make the shot".
That sense of possibility is a fitting tribute to this journey through the soul of America.
