A journey across the West Coast by 1930's Pullman car, made by a true individual.
“With a dry wit and self-effacing humor, as well as an endearing eccentricity, Jon Hyrns gives voice to his life and dreams in Dominic J. DeJoseph’s hour-long documentary, narrating a journey that traverses much of the West Coast by 1930’s Pullman car. The camera is silent witness to a monologue delivered by 40-something Hyrns, whose job as a porter on a dying breed of luxury train endowed him with his nickname, Johnny Berlin. A sad-eyed wanderer with a quick tongue, who counts punk rock and pilgrimage among his main influences, Johnny still hasn’t figured out what to do with his life. In trying to do so, however, he has managed to do quite a bit, which he describes as he goes about his never-ending tasks of changing sheets and battling dust. Johnny is engaging on just about any topic, from his love for strawberry milk to his somewhat-lacking love life, and his tales of get-rich-quick schemes are particularly hilarious: a deadpan Johnny details the slightly morbid story of once trying to increase his father’s life insurance plan to garner himself a more robust inheritance.
With big dreams of finishing his novel about a man who decides to roll across the United States, Johnny is a gravel-voiced, diamond-in-the-rough character, assuming literary proportions of his own. The low-fi, talking-head documentary style of the piece allows the charismatic, melancholy central figure to take center stage.
This approach is a departure for director DeJoseph, whose credits include music videos for R.E.M. and Tilly and the Wall, as well as “"The One Dollar Diary,"” a digital video portrait of Wim Wenders.”
“With a dry wit and self-effacing humor, as well as an endearing eccentricity, Jon Hyrns gives voice to his life and dreams in Dominic J. DeJoseph’s hour-long documentary, narrating a journey that traverses much of the West Coast by 1930’s Pullman car. The camera is silent witness to a monologue delivered by 40-something Hyrns, whose job as a porter on a dying breed of luxury train endowed him with his nickname, Johnny Berlin. A sad-eyed wanderer with a quick tongue, who counts punk rock and pilgrimage among his main influences, Johnny still hasn’t figured out what to do with his life. In trying to do so, however, he has managed to do quite a bit, which he describes as he goes about his never-ending tasks of changing sheets and battling dust. Johnny is engaging on just about any topic, from his love for strawberry milk to his somewhat-lacking love life, and his tales of get-rich-quick schemes are particularly hilarious: a deadpan Johnny details the slightly morbid story of once trying to increase his father’s life insurance plan to garner himself a more robust inheritance.
With big dreams of finishing his novel about a man who decides to roll across the United States, Johnny is a gravel-voiced, diamond-in-the-rough character, assuming literary proportions of his own. The low-fi, talking-head documentary style of the piece allows the charismatic, melancholy central figure to take center stage.
This approach is a departure for director DeJoseph, whose credits include music videos for R.E.M. and Tilly and the Wall, as well as “"The One Dollar Diary,"” a digital video portrait of Wim Wenders.”
First Jack Kerouac, then Tom Waits, and now ... Johnny Berlin. This melancholy portrait of a train porter who’s dreams have been stilted by economic hardship is made in the tradition of the early films of Errol Morris, Les Blank, and Werner Herzog. The man in the porter’s hat who is the subject of this documentary would be considered troubled by some, but he finds his way past his own demons by using the smokescreen of humor. In these times, Johnny Berlin is an imperfect hero with the perfect solution.
Posted 09/20/09 by Felipeno
Yes, many of us have had the job of portering in one form or another. Or one that requires wearing a costume all day. To be one of the last of a dying breed:
“the steel rails still ain’t heard the news.
The conductor sings his song again,
The passengers will please refrain
This train’s got the disappearing railroad blues.”
Steve Goodman
especially one that has such a colorful history as a Pullman Porter, that is a rare opportunity. When Mr. Hyrns is sitting with the old timers who throw seeds to birds in the park, reminiscing about the good old days, Johnny Berlin will be the focal point. They will all owe him a portion of their next
month’s pension check, some from their pride and Johnny’s prowess at craps, poker, and other games of skill. The rest are in debt to Johnny for being the provider of all things they yearn for, from strippers and hookers, to Viagra and Kush bud. Son and daughters of those grandpas gone wild will fight to have Mr. John Hyrns banned from the park, but with a smile and a wink of his eye, Johnny Berlin will charm the robes off of the presiding lady judge who has a fondness for artists. While most simply watch life go by like a fast train, John Hyrns, Johnny Berlin, and others like them, jump on that fast track and live life as free wheeling prophets and adventurers.
Posted 08/08/09 by yellowtonkatoy
A short, sharp profile of a man at once fascinating and vaguely troubled, Johnny Berlin is a nearly-an-hour well spent with middle-aged raconteur Johnny Hyrns, nicknamed for the refurbished luxury train he works as a porter on that runs from Seattle to Los Angeles. --Variety, 15 June 2005