*Re-posted here on this date from an earlier, personal writing.
October 22, 2015. I remember this TV show from when I was young. Well, I think I do; there's a reasonable chance that memory and imagination are overlapping. But in my mind's eye, it goes like this: an intrepid group encounters adventures while navigating subterranean worlds, attempting to find a missing explorer who has left them clues along the way, clues which lead them down his trail and pointing to where they might find him. And as they descend deeper, they discover new things about him and, of course, themselves. It wasn't a great show by any stretch, but I think about it a lot these days.
I'm tracing my grandfather's footsteps. In doing so, I find myself getting to know the man who until now has been more story than memory for me. And the surreal part of it all is realizing time and again how often my quest mirrors his own.
Albert E. Kahn was called many things. A freedom fighter. A turncoat. A communist. A Soviet agent. One thing he could never be accused of: being dispassionate. Albert felt that there were stories the world needed to hear and his dedication to telling them for the good of all led him from one Quixotic journey to the next. Except his battles were real and his final ledger tells the tale of a man who, more often than not, emerged victorious.
Albert tracked down Harvey Matusow from across the country. I'll be traveling to Brighton, England, to resurrect Harvey from beyond the grave by virtue of his recorded voice and image. Albert delved into long talks with Harvey, parsing reality from fiction and getting to the heart of the lies he told. I am trying to peel back the layers of his psychology, to get to what makes someone like him feel compelled to lie in the first place.
My grandfather relied on the assistance of family and allies to fulfill his pursuits, turning to them in crucial times of need. I have had to do the same. And as much as that pushes the boundaries of my comfort zone, I've come to realize what he perhaps knew: when people believe in each other, to help is not a burden. So, like Albert, I expect to be leaning on my family and friends for financial support of this project and collaboration.
The more that I put myself in Albert's place, the more tempting it becomes to emulate him. I share Albert's drive, his love for people, and his faith in the power of storytelling. But I have to remind myself that the parable of his life is as much a cautionary tale as it is an inspirational one. The noble are not exempt from myopia. It is possible to sacrifice too much for the fight. I know that Albert's mania cost him some relationships and his health. He is slowly revealing more of himself to me. I have seen this in the clues left behind: scribbled notes, well-worn letters, and in the words of those who are still alive to tell me stories. And so, I have come to learn my challenge is that I must follow him, but not too closely.
- Ben Kahn, Executive Producer