Too Close to the Sun

A fine and fascinating new documentary, Sunshine Superman provides an intimate portrait of the founder of a movement in which participants — perhaps I should say followers — commit protracted suicide in circus-like gestures that are public and grandiose and defiantly illegal. And for these gestures they are widely heralded as free-spirited heroes whose failed attempts to burst the bonds of human limitation are considered tragic evidence of their own greatness.

I’m speaking, of course, about the extreme sport of BASE-jumping, and in particular its “father” and earliest proponent, Carl Boenish. Directed by Marah Strauch, Sunshine Superman hones in close to Boenish, a preternaturally smiley fellow whose Peter Pan-ish disposition seems to have run a tight gamut between manic and ecstatic.

Thanks to a veritable treasure trove of archival footage from the ’70s and ’80s, the film traces the evolution of Boenish’s thrill-seeking, as he and his crew — including his comparatively level-headed wife, Jean Boenish — hatch the idea that jumping with a parachute from buildings, aerial antennae, spans (bridges) and earth (cliffs) seems like a wonderful idea.

Yes, I do think it’s a lovely, inspiring thing when a human being confronts fear and attempts to overcome obstacles, often self-imposed, but I fail to see how courting self-destruction as a flamboyant career choice qualifies as a heroic pursuit. After watching Sunshine Superman — which, make no mistake, is a very well-made if misguided documentary — I’m calling bullshit on Boenish and his ilk, which includes Dean Potter, who last month slammed into a hunk of granite in California’s Yosemite Valley while sailing in a squirrel suit.

Call it the law of unintended consequences, but what Sunshine Superman makes abundantly clear is that extreme sports like BASE-jumping represent a particularly insidious form of addiction. Like all addicts, BASE jumpers get gacked out on their drug of choice (adrenaline) to such an extent that each high must be higher, simply to combat the drudgery of regular old life. But it’s a false dichotomy, this idea that everyday existence is so drab that one must constantly seek manufactured states of consciousness in order to feel alive.

The circumstances of Boenish’s death, so excruciatingly and disturbingly laid out, offer an enlightening glimpse into the narcissistic self-delusions and death-wishing that drives adrenaline junkies. It’s difficult to conclude, after hearing the testimony of his wife as well as those he dragged along on his quest, that Boenish’s death was anything other than suicide.

In this regard, Sunshine Superman recalls a pair of cautionary tales about the sick man’s quest for self-actualization, one recent and one very, very old: the myth of Icarus and Werner Herzog’s Grizzly Man, both of which had plenty of sunshine but nothing all that super about them.

Sunshine Superman opens Friday, June 5, at Bijou Art Cinemas; bijou-cinemas.com.

A Note From the Publisher

Dear Readers,

The last two years have been some of the hardest in Eugene Weekly’s 43 years. There were moments when keeping the paper alive felt uncertain. And yet, here we are — still publishing, still investigating, still showing up every week.

That’s because of you!

Not just because of financial support (though that matters enormously), but because of the emails, notes, conversations, encouragement and ideas you shared along the way. You reminded us why this paper exists and who it’s for.

Listening to readers has always been at the heart of Eugene Weekly. This year, that meant launching our popular weekly Activist Alert column, after many of you told us there was no single, reliable place to find information about rallies, meetings and ways to get involved. You asked. We responded.

We’ve also continued to deepen the coverage that sets Eugene Weekly apart, including our in-depth reporting on local real estate development through Bricks & Mortar — digging into what’s being built, who’s behind it and how those decisions shape our community.

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None of this happens by accident. It happens because readers step up and say: this matters.

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Thank you for standing with us!