Worthy to Print Column | The Magic of Movies

**George Worthy**

Forgive me if I seem a bit reflective this week. There's been a lot on my mind, especially about where I stand in life. Have you ever taken a moment to assess your journey and what’s gone right or wrong?

I'm not usually one for deep introspection, though my family might have a different view. If you know me, you know I tend to speak my mind, regardless of the outcome. I do have personal thoughts I usually share only with my wife, knowing she will cherish them as much as I do.

Please bear with me as I share this reflection. I was driving back from the VA Clinic in San Jose, where I had a check-up for sun damage. I’m relieved to report I received a clean bill of health, despite my past as a sun worshiper who often ignored warnings meant for my safety.

While driving home, I tuned into a radio discussion about the greatest movies ever made. The first film they mentioned was *On the Waterfront,* starring Marlon Brando. When that movie was released, the Wasco Theater in my hometown of Wasco was still open, showing popular films—even in black and white.

My family had just returned from Bakersfield, where my dad had bought our only new car, a 1956 Ford Fairlane. It was an impressive car, and in his good spirits, Dad suggested we go to the movies.

By coincidence, *On the Waterfront* was showing. None of us knew much about the film, but it was hailed as one of the year’s best. We eagerly agreed to go, not just for the movie, but because it was a rare occasion for us all to be together. It felt magical: a new car ride with my parents and two brothers, all of us together.

Next to the theater was a small coffee shop called Beaners, where we grabbed snacks—my treat was a Vanilla Coke. I don't remember what the others had, but it was probably something quick and calorie-laden. My parents headed to the quieter balcony, while we settled into our seats.

The movie was a bit mature for a 10-year-old, but the experience of being there with my family made it memorable. I still recall the scene where Brando’s character laments his wasted potential, saying, “I could’ve been a contender.” A critic later noted that it wasn’t just the words but Brando’s delivery, filled with universal regret over missed dreams, that made the scene so powerful. Sometimes, the simplest words carry the most emotional weight.

I must have watched that movie several times over the years, along with another favorite, *Green Beret,* starring John Wayne—two films that couldn’t be more different. But then, *Apocalypse Now* came out and overshadowed both. I remember watching it in Fayetteville, N.C., and being stunned to see a photograph of my “A” Team in the film. I jumped up and shouted, “Hey! That’s my ‘A’ Team!”

That photograph, one of the most reproduced from the Vietnam War, still hangs in my hallway. I keep the magazine featuring it in my safe. Brando’s other film, *The Wild One,* also struck a chord with me, not because I wanted to join a motorcycle gang, but because Brando’s performance was compelling.

These movies have profoundly impacted me, perhaps due to their timing in my life. Sometimes, I wonder if “I could have been a contender.”

God bless.