In his tender new film The Kids Grow Up, documentary filmmaker Doug Block seeks to make sense of parenting and the bitter-sweet, inevitable charge of letting your children go as they embark independently into adulthood.
Block approaches this film in a manner similar to noted autobiographical documentarian Ross McElwee, who turned the camera on his own family. While Block’s previous film, 51 Birch Street, explored the dynamics of his own parents’ marriage, The Kids Grow Up focuses on his only child, Lucy—from infancy to her senior year of high school as her pending departure for college and adulthood draws near.
Block presents home footage of the milestones and the everyday of Lucy’s life, such as getting her ears pierced and taking her driver’s test. He also weaves in bits of conversation and interviews with his ailing father, his wife Marjorie, and other family members.
However, the film’s protagonist isn’t quite so simple. The magical and articulate little girl who prances about at the film’s beginning eventually grows resentful of the camera’s intrusion, later resisting any true disclosure on film.
I had an opportunity to speak recently with Lucy Block by phone. Now 21, she is busy completing her undergraduate senior thesis on the topic of hydraulic fracturing. I was eager to learn of her feelings three years after the filming ended—especially since her life’s upbringing has now been showcased at film festivals and art house theaters throughout the country, including the Angelika in New York and the Laemmle in Los Angeles.{
Moreover, given her apparent displeasure with the footage of her in the movie, I was curious why she had agreed to the interview. Having just read the recent film reviews, Lucy wanted to set the record straight on a few points and clarify her precarious position as the subject of the film.
“I wanted to comment on a few misconceptions—it’s important,” she said, referring to those critics who have judged her father harshly, purporting that his film had exploited her and her mother. “It wasn’t what it may have seemed like in the film,” she explained.
“It gave the impression that he filmed me all the time, and he really didn’t … more like once a year,” she said, describing the frequency of the filming prior to her senior year in high school. “People are judging his character. The [negative] reviews, I think, are unfair.”
On the other hand, the filmmaker’s daughter said other journalists are more accurate, “more thoughtful and articulate [about] how I felt.” “It’s very weird— critics are voicing how I felt,” she said.
Despite being the primary focus, Lucy understands that this is not a film merely about her but also about her father’s parenting experience. The film takes a “look at the process of growing up from the parent’s point of view. … It’s my dad’s project.”
Block approaches this film in a manner similar to noted autobiographical documentarian Ross McElwee, who turned the camera on his own family. While Block’s previous film, 51 Birch Street, explored the dynamics of his own parents’ marriage, The Kids Grow Up focuses on his only child, Lucy—from infancy to her senior year of high school as her pending departure for college and adulthood draws near.
Block presents home footage of the milestones and the everyday of Lucy’s life, such as getting her ears pierced and taking her driver’s test. He also weaves in bits of conversation and interviews with his ailing father, his wife Marjorie, and other family members.
However, the film’s protagonist isn’t quite so simple. The magical and articulate little girl who prances about at the film’s beginning eventually grows resentful of the camera’s intrusion, later resisting any true disclosure on film.
I had an opportunity to speak recently with Lucy Block by phone. Now 21, she is busy completing her undergraduate senior thesis on the topic of hydraulic fracturing. I was eager to learn of her feelings three years after the filming ended—especially since her life’s upbringing has now been showcased at film festivals and art house theaters throughout the country, including the Angelika in New York and the Laemmle in Los Angeles.{
Moreover, given her apparent displeasure with the footage of her in the movie, I was curious why she had agreed to the interview. Having just read the recent film reviews, Lucy wanted to set the record straight on a few points and clarify her precarious position as the subject of the film.
“I wanted to comment on a few misconceptions—it’s important,” she said, referring to those critics who have judged her father harshly, purporting that his film had exploited her and her mother. “It wasn’t what it may have seemed like in the film,” she explained.
“It gave the impression that he filmed me all the time, and he really didn’t … more like once a year,” she said, describing the frequency of the filming prior to her senior year in high school. “People are judging his character. The [negative] reviews, I think, are unfair.”
On the other hand, the filmmaker’s daughter said other journalists are more accurate, “more thoughtful and articulate [about] how I felt.” “It’s very weird— critics are voicing how I felt,” she said.
Despite being the primary focus, Lucy understands that this is not a film merely about her but also about her father’s parenting experience. The film takes a “look at the process of growing up from the parent’s point of view. … It’s my dad’s project.”
Similar to the McElwee autobiographical documentary style, Block blurs the boundaries of life and art, feeling as some filmmakers do that art somehow feels more real than life, more compelling.
“[This is a] continuing subject for my dad, blending art and life intensely since he made 51 Birch Street,” a film that uncovers difficult family secrets of his parents’ unhappy marriage.
Lucy explained that her mother is very accepting of her father’s work, despite that it shares the intimate aspects of their family with the audience. Lucy, on the other hand, is more conflicted, wanting to support her father’s endeavors but without quite so much personal sacrifice.
Sacrifice, she acknowledged, always happens when trying to balance one’s family, work, and personal goals.
“There is a trade-off. Of course, it would be better if there wasn’t a trade-off and he could be more present as my father,” Lucy said. “Artists do sacrifice something of their personal relationships.”
Lucy feels the film’s merits outweigh any inconvenience and annoyance during her senior year of high school. “The trade-off is worth it,” she said of the film. “It’s really good. People are relating on a really deep level [to the film’s themes].”
When I asked for her overall experience related to the film that she unknowingly starred in, she said, “It’s still hard, but I’m comfortable with it. Besides, I’m too busy with school to care too much.”
