When pressed about his favorite movie, Mr. Cunningham was decidedly indecisive. He insisted to preface his choice with statements such as “all the right answers to ‘the best movie’ have to be depressing” but that someone’s favorite movie “ought to be uplifting, even in the slightest. It’s gotta have some optimism”.

Following some circumlocutions and some false starts, I received an answer as resolute as I would get: The Graduate from (1967). At this point his comments were concise, “it’s a social commentary that’s fitting and timeless, and is also a love story”.

The Graduate has a premise very relatable to us high schoolers. It’s about having an affair with a neighbor around 20 years your senior.

My jesting is disingenuous, though. By the end, the film is so much more than that. I couldn’t bear to spoil it however, since the elusive characteristic of genuine surprise can be found in this film, unlike most films today. It stars Dustin Hoffman, who is famous for his later role as “Rainman”, as Benjamin Braddock, the titular character. The music is done by Simon and Garfunkel. It’s widely considered a classic, just one that few people know about.

The truth is that this movie is a fever dream you’d have during the peak of your biggest crush. Were one to be left alone to daydream for 24 hours out a window on summer day, this would be the result. It’s emotional impact comes from it surrealness, but it’s a surrealness that’s so sentimentally urgent that it paradoxically ends up being the most sincere tone possible.

It’s humor is balanced with an omnipresent anxiety that comes from the plot’s chasing of an emotional, cathartic resolution silhouetted on the horizon. After chasing and chasing and chasing, the viewer only receives this concluding release, well… at the conclusion. Only in the last few minutes does this happen, however. There is a unique sensation to this film, like listening to a Shepard tone – you feel everything rising in tension even when it’s not, through illusion.

So much emotional turmoil is found here it feels like an entire adolescence compressed into a super dense particle, that particle being a two hour film. The saturation is pleasant, though, like good lemonade – any less syrup or any more and it wouldn’t have been so tasteful. The editing and cinematography contribute to it. Even when things slow down, it’s so functionally laser-focused that it’s the perfect necessary break. But more than that, there’s an inexplicable charm to this. My closest approximation would be to say that upon every moment of boyish, teenage, revelatory experience, the film pauses, takes a deep breath, and squares it.

In case you’re unable to tell, I liked the film. Despite my concern that the immaculate pacing I just raved about may be a first viewing phenomenon, I’ll venture to give this movie 5 out of 5 tokens of approval. (Stars are too trite and I like general terms).