Think of the moments that comprise the sum of your life - not the edited snapshots that you share on social media, but the raw footage of daily existence. Now imagine being filmed by a cameraman whose job is to weave a portrait out of the hopes that got you out of bed, the fears you felt as you fell asleep (or lay awake), and the joy and pain in between. That is the stuff of QUEST, Jonathan Olshefski’s riveting documentary that chronicles nearly a decade in the life of a low-income African American family.
Quest begins hopefully enough: with a wedding and a birth. From there, hope appears intermittently, sometimes fading close to the vanishing point. After all, the North Philadelphia neighborhood where the Raineys reside offers little sustenance for hope to flourish. There’s no first home purchase to look forward to, no vacations, and no windfalls. Neither are there bonuses nor retirement in sight for low-wage workers. There’s not even enough money for school supplies. In fact, there’s nothing to see here but the struggle for survival – or so I thought.
At first, watching a film about the human toll of economic stagnation reminded me of the adage of the frog in a pot. As the temperature slowly increases, the frog doesn’t feel the heat and is therefore unaware that it’s being boiled alive. However, real experiments show that the frog does, in fact, internalize the heat, and when its tolerance runs out, it will jump out of the water. So, what is to come of a frog that cannot jump out of a boiling pot? That’s a picture that few want to see.
Quest, on the other hand, is a picture that you do want to see. This slow-burning verité blossoms into a gritty portrait of buoyancy amidst adversity. Christopher “Quest” Rainey and family navigate the rigors of inner-city life with deft aplomb, weathering depression and poverty with dignity. From the trauma of an errant bullet that claimed daughter PJ’s left eye to the neighbors’ solidarity and officers’ moral support for her recovery, this community is a testament to the triumph of the human spirit.
Both weighty and engaging, Quest deserves of all the critical acclaim that it receives, including its most recent award: the Dallas International Film Fest’s Grand Jury Prize for Best Documentary. According to DIFF’s statement,
For our Grand Jury Prize, we selected a film that manages to weave a powerful story through subtle means. With an eye for exquisite detail and a patience that even veteran filmmakers often lack, this debut represents total commitment to both story and subject. Never exploitative, this epic tale of family unity amidst hardship is an exemplary marriage of heart and craft.
Fortunately, as the director saw it, the trajectory of the Raineys’ lives skews upward, transforming unvarnished truth into inspiration. As PJ grows up, worries over how to buy paper and binders subside when an after-school thrift store job yields some extra income to satisfy basic needs, if not the normal teenage desire for new sneakers. The film ends in the same place it began, with the Raineys’ marriage intact, and the musicians’ weekly jam sessions in Quest’s studio still going strong.
As for the protagonist, a few grey hairs have replaced the cornrows sported by Christopher Rainey’s younger self, but the community’s fearless leader retains his optimistic demeanor and radiant smile. He is hope personified, and his calm resilience in the face of economic despair is this film’s true gift.
Putting a face on post-recession malaise
The Raineys’ struggle to make ends meet is one that more and more of us share. According to a report by the National Employment Law Project, 2.3 million more workers are employed in low-wage industries now than at the start of the recession. Almost one in four working American adults now works a position that pays less than a living wage, and the share of low-wage jobs in the U.S. economy is rising.
While low-income families feel the heat more acutely, families across the socioeconomic spectrum are finding out what it’s like to have to lose. Take mine, for example. In September 2007, you could have set up camera, fixed the lens on our then-new backyard, and waited. Against a backdrop of blistering summers, ten years of time-lapse photography would show the steady decay of our deck’s fresh slats into graying, splintered wood. That outdoor kitchen never did materialize, nor did the covered patio that I expected would replace our “temporary” one.
Fortunately, that same camera would also capture plenty of happy gatherings with friends and family as we grilled burgers, roasted marshmallows, drank beer, carved pumpkins, and fed the birds. Like the Raineys, ours is a picture of holding fast to normalcy and hope amidst financial stress. However, unlike the Raineys, we can retreat into the shelter of decent-paying professions and the myriad benefits of occupying a higher rung on the ladder, whether by skill or by luck of birth, or both.
The beauty of Quest is that it allows viewers to experience the reality of a low-income family at street level, putting real faces to the demographic data that newscasters report, sociologists study and politicians debate. At the same time, outside of a few nods to presidential elections that occurred during years of filming, the film largely bypasses politics. In Quest, there’s no call to action save for a call for empathy.
With the medium’s ability to inspire emotion, the documentary has done its job. Thanks to the Raineys’ willingness to share their lives with us, they have done theirs. As we walked away, I wondered about my place in this picture. What is my job? A good start would be to channel this empathy into our political process. After all, a more inclusive economy begins by changing the hearts of our politicians, which begins with a show of heart by the citizens who elect them.
Likewise, a more fair society begins with fostering a culture of respect. If, like me, you’re seeking an outlet for your empathy, try participating in small acts of radical intent: donating clothes to a thrift store, sponsoring after-school education for at-risk youth, or donating to a worthy non-profit with a mission to advocate for inclusive policies. Get involved in the issues and learn about initiatives to bring relief and opportunity to those in need, if not at the federal level, then locally or organizationally - wherever you are likely to have some influence.
As more of us struggle to adapt to the economic transformation that globalization and automation bring, more of us will have to bear the same types of stresses as the Raineys have. Whether we feel their pain directly or vicariously, to make our empathy valuable, we must act on it. After seeing the courage and commitment displayed in Quest, I’m holding out some hope that we will.