It's all I've ever known.

That one sentence, that one scene from the film Running on Empty is haunting me. I watched it Wednesday night, just me and a couple of Guinness. It affected me, the ending especially, no doubt because I have children of my own.

If you don't want me to spoil it for you, stop reading right now.

Ok. The end. No, there's a whole story that leads up to that moment, and you need to hear that first. There's a family. That's the main thing; that’s really what this film is about – family. Bonds. How love is selfish, and then, when it's really large, unselfish. And love has consequences, and if you can face them you can make the world a better place.

This family, mom, dad, two boys, age 12 and 17 or thereabouts, is close. They're a tight unit; they have to be, because they are on the run from the law, from society. The kids accept it; it's all they’ve ever known. Their mom and dad were active in anti-government activities in the '60s and early '70s. They planted a bomb in a Napalm factory. They wanted to make a statement: chemical warfare by its indiscriminate nature is wrong. Not in my name. Unfortunately, there was an innocent bystander who got injured – blinded and paralyzed. He wasn't supposed to be there; the revolutionaries don't believe in committing the very crimes they are trying to stop.

The film opens with the family hitting the road on a moment's notice, one step ahead of law enforcement agents. About the only thing they take with them is a practice piano keyboard.

River Phoenix is the teenager, Danny. I remember that his acting talent was well-regarded, but I can't remember any standout performances. But this is one. I kept thinking of James Dean. The filmmakers were aware of the similarities too, as he’s often seen in a windbreaker (blue instead of red), and a poster of Dean is visible in one scene.

This movie is his story. His life. And, naturally, it's just beginning. He's an extremely talented musician. Piano. Classical piano. His dad, Judd Hirsch, is a rocker of course, that's the music of the people and the soundtrack of revolution. His mom is also a talented musician. Or could have been, before her life was derailed. By her own actions, she's aware of that. The parents are adults, not interested in the blame game. They want to get by and raise the best kids they can. In that, they are succeeding admirably. And that is brought out in the film beautifully.

But they're running on empty. But running, getting by, underground. Living through subterfuge. It's all the kids have ever known. That line, the one haunting me, is delivered by Phoenix to his girlfriend in a moment of desperation. Despite the danger, he has to let down the facade, let this girl in to the real person, tell the true story of his young life: It's all I've ever known. Being on the run. Having to put forward a false front. Keeping everyone and everything at a distance.