Tao of the Dumpster

"Why don't we want our lives to be an adventure?" questions Burt Jamison as he roots around in some trash. Lots of Americans have posed the same question, but few have chosen Jamison's truly counter-cultural answer: dumpster diving. While adventure seekers pursue high-risk, high-cost, accessory-laden extreme sports, Jamison has rejected materialism and lives off of what he can scavenge. He's as happy as a clam and rich as whatever he can find in the next dumpster, which includes: food (including some unopened caviar...how's that for dumpster living?), clothing, and books. He squats on other people's land, and he's done it all for twenty years (and hasn't died of cooties yet). What makes Jamison different from the homeless and impoverished is that he chose his situation; that he gave up his marriage and three children along the way hasn't bothered him. This is more understandable when we meet his 30-year-old son Dirk, the film's writer; he cannot simply tell the tale of his dad's eccentric lifestyle and the effect of it on the family, without adding LOTS of footage of the two of them arguing at the top of their lungs. While a little conflict and tension make for a good story, endless shouting matches are about as appealing as sitting through a protracted family fight at a dinner party. (The viewer is left with the vague feeling that dumpster caviar, eaten in peace, might actually be better...at least in this family's case). Curiously, the Retirement Research Foundation gave the film an award--maybe to suggest pension-stretching bargains for today's seniors? Still, given the price for this bit of Taoist enlightenment, the tape should not be high on a library's wish list. Optional. Aud: C, P. (R. Reagan)