My reviews are generally positive. I like to find the good in books, movies, life. It just feels better to finish something and feel like you haven’t wasted your time. On that note, I did not care for The Human Experience.

Jeffery Azize and his brother set out from Brooklyn, New York to discover, “What it means to be human?” They spend time with the homeless of New York, the orphans of Peru and the Lepers of Ghana. In concept, I’m sold. Not so much in practice. I couldn’t stop rolling my eyes and saying, “Oh fuck off, buddy,” in the thickest Minnesota accent I can muster.

Here’s why:

First, Azize’s revelations are childish at best, “You become more humble…you can feel the humility that homeless people go through,” he said after two nights on the street. Seriously? Did he grow up in a cave? Second, where does his funding come from? I’d sure like to fly off to Ghana for a visit. It’d be nice to hear a little acknowledgment that this brand of soul searching costs money. Finally, Azize’s motivations end up sounding alternatingly confusing and inauthentic. He wants to find a purpose in life or understand the meaning of life. Maybe his father was abusive. Maybe his parents just got divorced.

That’s a big sticking point for me. I have little patience for people who blame their adult problems on divorce. Get over it. I know some people have a rough time of their parent’s divorce but lives change. Relationships evolve. People don’t end their marriages to screw with their children, they do it to save them.

Hell, maybe I’ve just gotten my fill of the supposed search-for-meaning documentaries.