Depressing. Just plain depressing.
Right off the bat, we’re introduced to two men. Reggie, a husband of 47 years who enjoyed staying stoned. And honestly, he may have some mental illness. Anne, his wife, respects his choices, but she disapproves. Then there’s Dennis, the hustler who lives in his van while he’s searching for a rich woman upon whom he can prey.
If you ever saw The Stepford Wives or Wayward Pines, then you’ll better understand how this documentary struck me. It’s as though 130,000 people – that’s the population of the place at the time of the filming (2019/2020) – are, as one woman described it, “living in a bubble.”

Thirty-five minutes in and I’m overcome with a strong sense of loneliness. Reggie is going online telling people who he got arrested because he had THC and some cocaine. Anne, his wife, is puzzled by his increasingly odd behavior. She’s sitting down with another old man, a psychologist. She doesn’t quite know what to do.
Over and over I see old people behaving foolishly. Some, hanging on for dear life, to youth, long gone.
I watch them do things I rather doubt they ever did when they were young. And I’m wondering, “If they didn’t enjoy doing those things when they were young, I wonder why they do them now?” I don’t know.
But I do look at my own life – and my growing older – and realize I don’t even think about doing things I did or may have done when I was younger. I’m not interested in hanging onto youth, ignoring the fact that I’m now a 64-year-old man.
“Growing old gracefully.” I keep thinking about what that looks like and realize it’s not the same for everybody. But I’ve got a pretty clear vision of it for myself. And this ain’t it.
There are no kids. It’s a retirement community. It’s gated, but the roads are public and the gates mostly serve to slow traffic down while a greeter waves at the folks who drive through.
Meanwhile, Dennis, the hustler, grows more down and out. He’s 81. Wanted for an outstanding DUI. He fled the warrant and dashed off to Florida. Now he’s desperate. Searching, unsuccessfully, for people who will help him out. Old friends and acquaintances seem to know Dennis is still the hustler he’s always been. He confesses his goal was to die poor and admits, “Here I am. I’m poor.” There’s nothing worse than an old leech! I find myself battling harsh feelings against this man – this very despicable man. I wonder how many people he’s taken advantage of during his lifetime. A life dedicated to lies, deceit, dishonesty, and manipulation. He’s the epitome of a person devoted only to himself. Devoid of character and integrity. I rather doubt he’s ever done the right thing in his life.
Lynn, the golf cart salesman, comes into the scene well into the show and we finally are introduced to a person who enjoys life. And smiles a lot. We watch him show Barbara, a Boston widow who desperately misses her home state. Lynn pulls her out of her funk without even knowing it. They laugh and cut up while playing mini-golf. It’s a rare glimpse of people who are enjoying life. Up to this point, most of the scenes are sad.
I’m an hour into the show with 15 minutes remaining. And find myself depressed knowing the world is full of people – of all ages – who are still so far away from figuring it out. And about the time I’m prepared to just hit STOP, Reggie admits he’s ready to stop using weed and other drugs. He’s still a bizarre character who I find somewhat insufferable, but at least I feel better for Anne. She’s at least no longer stuck with a man determined to stay high all the time.
Meanwhile,