“We remain just two old men waiting for God.”
Those are the words of Cecil Bethea, splashed across the screen, that close the short documentary “Cecil & Carl.” Those are also the words that perfectly sum up the beauty, humanity, and inherent cosmic tragedy the film depicts.
The documentary tells the story of Cecil Bethea and Carl Shepherd, two men who have been partners for 43 years. But for the first time since they signed a lease all those years ago, the two have been separated: Carl, diagnosed with dementia, now lives in a nursing home, leaving Cecil alone in their large home.
The film follows Cecil as he goes about his everyday duties caring for Carl and spending time with him.
In just fifteen short minutes, “Cecil & Carl” crafts an extremely poignant, painful, and ultimately life-affirming portrait of love and friendship.
The film, wisely, doesn’t try too hard to convey its story or paint its characters. Instead, the filmmakers let them speak for themselves. Or, perhaps more accurately, it lets Cecil speak for himself. Most of the dramatic action involves Cecil taking Carl around the Denver area (where they live) doing mostly mundane things: tying his shoes, shaving his face, lighting his cigarette. Yet it is exactly these mundane activities that illustrate the depth of the connection between the two, captured beautifully by the directors’ camera.
In many ways, the documentary is a unique document: a coming-of-age story for a different demographic. (After all, nowhere is the age into which one is maturing into specified.) For both Cecil and Carl, the waters into which they are entering are uncharted. Cecil’s not entirely sure what’s going to come next or how to deal with it, but he’s going to try his level best to care for him.
This is what I would call a “slice of life” picture. It photographs the lives of these two men and presents it to us without anything in the way of outside commentary — the only words spoken in the film are spoken by Cecil. And it is these words that keep the film on track. As compelling as these pieces of everyday life are, they could very quickly cease to say anything new without the commentary, which, in a smart move by the filmmakers, is a narrative: Cecil reads the letter he’s written the judge to make his case as to why he should be the one caring for Carl. Throughout the film, Cecil recounts anecdotes from his and Carl’s life that flesh out their relationship, giving us a sense of their history and closeness.
There is perhaps nothing more compelling than life itself — the true stories of those around us who we may never take the time to notice. “Cecil & Carl” tells an amazing story of companionship and commitment. It’s a bite-sized reminder on the importance of storytelling. Stories remind us of why we need human connection, the need to hear and be heard. They remind us that the very foundation of our lives are the company we keep and what we share with those closest to us. I never thought that a 15-minute documentary short would be capable of such depth and beauty. Yet here we are.
