Wednesday, August 13, 2025
Between the summers of 1993 and 1995, I would watch the emotional, dramatic, and fantasy-led movie Radio Flyer for one reason. Before I get to that reason, I’d like to say that I’m writing this on behalf of the daydreamers—the people who can create motion pictures in their head—and those with minds that wander further than the planet Morph, in the Gamma Quadrant of Sector 4, while on their weekly team meeting calls at work.
Although Radio Flyer received mixed reviews for its illogical ending and sensitive subject matter, I’d argue that its intended audience was a mix of individuals with vivid imaginations and those who had never felt seen due to traumatic childhoods.
The movie is about two brothers who relocate to a new city with their mom—who faces financial hardship—but is supported by her boyfriend, and eventual husband, who drunkenly abuses the youngest boy.
Narrated by Mike, the older version of the oldest brother played by Tom Hanks, tells his kids the story of their uncle they’ve never met…
Why was I watching this movie?
Because the boys built an airplane for the youngest brother to fly away. And I thought that was cool.
Bobby, the younger brother, would mindfully drift into these wanderlust states where he was flying—free, and soaring from the pains of his existence. So, he and his brother Mike envisioned something out of a little red wagon that only a boy with the wildest imagination can see. With cardboard wings, their Radio Flyer wagon, and a lawnmower engine, they built this:
And I thought, why couldn’t I build the same?
Watching the movie three decades later, I cry because I see it in a much different light. I also laugh at my young, naïve self, at how this drama felt film inspired me to build an airplane, which I got as far as making wooden wings before my dad trashed it. And it was a good thing he did, because what I was going to do next would’ve relieved both of us from lawn mowing duties for the rest of summer.
I didn’t grow up in a ‘broken home.’ But I was told my dad never knew his father. I wasn’t restricted to a little red wagon to pull in the rain. But at least my dad still managed to buy me one. I didn’t have a traumatic childhood. But my dad hated his uncle. He hated him so much, one of the last things he said to me when he had dementia, when I asked about the uncle who raised him—he said, while smiling, “Yes, I remember him at his funeral…Boy, I smiled, laughed, and cried tears of joy seeing him in his casket.”
You’d think I was watching this movie for any of the said reasons above.
But nope.
I wanted to see how these boys would fare with a handcrafted airplane made from scrap metals and wood from around their neighborhood.
Spoiler Alert
Toward the end of Radio Flyer, Bobby gets abused really bad by his stepfather for the last time, fearing now that he doesn’t have much time. So, Bobby ends up flying away on the aircraft for good.
The narrator, Tom Hanks, leaves out the part of the story where their mom files a missing child report. He fails to mention how often they would visit Bobby wherever he flew over the years. He also doesn’t tell his kids the part of the story of how this make-shift aircraft was maintained, how he ate, took care of himself, etc… But as Mike narrates, emphasizing to his kids to understand, he tells them, “History is all in the mind of the teller… That’s how I remember it…”
So, who knows what actually happened to his little brother? But it’s a movie… where we suspend our beliefs. I mean, how else would you imagine such a movie’s ending?
-Budd
This Is Where BuddWrites 