We saw Lucky Logan and I saw a part of me I don’t like.

Michele and I saw Logan Lucky last night. It is a heist movie, similar to Ocean’s Eleven in concept and fantasy, except that it involves rednecks from West Virgina rather than a nattily dressed Frank Sinatra or George Clooney (take your pick at which Ocean’s Eleven you prefer). The redneck part is the rub. In one of the first scenes, the hero, played by a very scruffy Tatum Channing, is laid off – for insurance reasons – from the shitty job he got after he was laid off from the coal mines. When he goes to pick up his daughter from his divorced wife, I fully expected him to be violent. I didn’t expect the well dressed Danny Ocean to be violent but this guy was a redneck, a laid off coal miner, and, at a deep level, I thought of him as a violent, white, Trump supporting, loser. He wasn’t of course, any more than Danny Ocean was and seeing my own prejudging, my own bigotry, was not fun even if it was enlightening.   

Once I got past my bigotry, the movie was a fun, if lightweight, romp. 

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