When all of Pat’s highly disruptive filmmaking exploits finally become more than his mostly supportive but long-suffering mom (Colleen Camp) can handle, she calls American Cinematographer editor Herb Lightman (Austin Pendleton). She hopes to get her son a meeting with his effects-wizard idol Douglas Trumbull (Michael Pawlak). Lightman, a sympathetic fellow traveler in film nerd-dom, sees a kindred spirit in Pat, and he pulls some strings to get the kid a sit-down with Trumbull at his visual effects studio, Future General. But Trumbull proves elusive, and Pat’s tour of the facility – including a session with a precocious young Steven Spielberg (Kevin J Stephens, whose impression is spot-on and hilarious) – whizzes by in a confounding, discouraging blur. But then, after a chance encounter with Dykstra, he lucks into the fateful private Star Wars screening that changes everything. Pat returns home to the midwest with a grand plan to invite everyone he knows to see Lucas’ film on its opening day – and, in turn, to prove that starry-eyed movie geeks like he and George Lucas really can see their dreams come true on the big screen.
As influential as Star Wars clearly was on Johnson’s life and career, his movie does not share the pure, fundamental narrative and thematic simplicity that characterized Lucas’ storytelling. 5-25-77 is almost gleefully haphazard in a structural sense, both overwritten and overlong by Hollywood standards, and lacks the mass-audience appeal that had moviegoers, both fanatic and casual, packing into theaters back in 1977. It feels as if Johnson has made this film with only himself in mind, and, honestly, that’s what is so absolutely captivating and beautiful about it – there is love and wonder in nearly every frame. Whether it’s swooning over a puppy-dog high school romance or extolling the joys of seeing a labored-over creation come to life onscreen, it’s as if the movie is riotously spilling forth straight out of Johnson’s memory. You might think of it as Proust for the kind of folks that collected Kenner action figures and back issues of Starlog.
“…charmingly idiosyncratic…”
Even in its construction, 5-25-77 is charmingly idiosyncratic and free-spirited. Scenes are punctuated with beloved clips from familiar movies, visuals emulate vintage film formats, and parts of Pat’s 70s-era world are recreated with model miniature visual effects. The latter choice is particularly ingenious, not only in a budgetary sense but also in the way that it lovingly pays tribute to the craft that inspired Johnson in the first place. The film’s daydream sequences have a handcrafted, childlike quality that resembles the cut-and-paste flights of fancy seen in Michel Gondry’s films, while its more earthbound moments echo the likes of Dazed and Confused and The Wonder Years.
Of course, the viewers who’ll appreciate 5-25-77 the most are those nostalgic for the heyday of Lucas and Spielberg and – there’s certainly some crossover here – anyone who’s entertained some moviemaking aspirations of their own. As much as Johnson is willing to generate laughs at his expense, it’s the heart-on-sleeve sincerity that makes his film so infectious, and his perseverance in getting it made over the past few decades is a remarkable tribute to the kid he once was. 5-25-77 is a deeply felt, one-of-a-kind love letter to old-fashioned movie magic – and to the naive, reckless, and wonderful creative spirit that made it all possible.
"…a deeply felt, one-of-a-kind love letter to old-fashioned movie magic..."
