Some documentaries are valuable as essays on important social, political, and historical events and figures; the value of others lies in their ability to uncover charming glitches in our depressingly predictable modern society. The Parking Lot Movie examines some of the most important thinkers and strategists based on the battlefields of the Corner Parking Lot in Charlottesville, Virginia, during the war of attrition against the drunken frat boys and spoilt little rich girls that try to escape without paying in their gas-guzzling SUVs. This might not seem like a universally important war, but to the criminally over-educated and idealistic parking lot attendants, it is of terrifying existential importance.
The hairy, charming men that run the lot are all anthropology, sociology, or philosophy students (or in some cases ex-professors!) from the University of Virginia. One of them even makes the point that such intelligent and thoughtful people should not be allowed to do such a monotonous and thoughtless job… it leads to dangerous levels of existential angst. They fill their time writing poetry on the walls of the cabin, and editing newspaper cartoons to provide whimsical anecdotes on the world of a parking lot attendant (for example, “imagine if Rosa Parks had owned a car!”). When they move on, they become academics or successful musicians, and leave some other hopeful and naïve American vagabond to take over their hours.
They all have one thing in common… an abject hatred for the rich kids, yummie mummies, and aloof republican patriarchs that argue over cents and dimes while taking up two spaces with their over-priced mastodons-on-wheels. When one quiet and unassuming philosophy major comes up against a ditzy-blonde who recognises him from high school, she sniggers and says “I hope you’re happy with your life.” He replies, “Yes, I am happy. I love my life. You are driving your daddy’s car and arguing over a 40c charge, so who has come further?” These are the real people living on the periphery of Generation X, and I am happy to say they are even more robust, considerate, and fulfilled than Douglas Copeland could have imagined.
The hairy, charming men that run the lot are all anthropology, sociology, or philosophy students (or in some cases ex-professors!) from the University of Virginia. One of them even makes the point that such intelligent and thoughtful people should not be allowed to do such a monotonous and thoughtless job… it leads to dangerous levels of existential angst. They fill their time writing poetry on the walls of the cabin, and editing newspaper cartoons to provide whimsical anecdotes on the world of a parking lot attendant (for example, “imagine if Rosa Parks had owned a car!”). When they move on, they become academics or successful musicians, and leave some other hopeful and naïve American vagabond to take over their hours.
They all have one thing in common… an abject hatred for the rich kids, yummie mummies, and aloof republican patriarchs that argue over cents and dimes while taking up two spaces with their over-priced mastodons-on-wheels. When one quiet and unassuming philosophy major comes up against a ditzy-blonde who recognises him from high school, she sniggers and says “I hope you’re happy with your life.” He replies, “Yes, I am happy. I love my life. You are driving your daddy’s car and arguing over a 40c charge, so who has come further?” These are the real people living on the periphery of Generation X, and I am happy to say they are even more robust, considerate, and fulfilled than Douglas Copeland could have imagined.
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