I grew up in Northern California. Santa Rosa was the "big city" where we'd go to buy school clothes and hang out at the mall. I've driven the windy curves of Highway 128 more times than my stomach would like to recall. If only I knew about the hallowed history and troubled future of the Russian River, which we'd cruise over at lightspeed on the way to JC Penneys and Orange Julius heaven, perhaps I'd have spent more of my youth knee-deep in her waters and fighting to regain the glory that once was.
Beautiful cinematography and a message that transcends special interests (fly fishing included) make this movie worth the price of admission, as the Russian's story is one of all rivers in this country, one that isn't nearly as bright as it could have been had we seen where our habits and our relationship with the natural world are taking us.