The Peanut Butter Falcon – Your Atomic Throw.

We all need an‘Atomic Throw’. I hope yours is on the way.


And the meaning… exactly?

Well, I watched The Peanut Butter Falcon not so long ago, and the movie inspired this post. Good little budget movie, rightly getting a lot of (albeit) understated praise. Quirky, wholesome and compelling in that coming-of-age “Huckleberry Finn” kind of way. It’s got a real feel of earthiness to it. Got me good. Got me thinking.

I’m a bit of a sucker for rites of passage, and particularly, underdog movies.

Love it when the down-and-outs thrive at the end, and although this usually manifests in the briefest of segments (a single spoken line, or an action), it carries with it a strange kind of atomic power. The journey to that ‘moment’ is anything but linear, but when the serendipitous occurs, I’m all over it. A snapshot of some soul-gutsy victory; a stick-it-to-the-man, middle finger.

Things that make you think we can all received a destined moment in this cameo appearance called life.


It’s been a while since a movie peeled apart my carefully honed bullet-proof walls… but this one did. Don’t quite know why. Needless to say, there’s a particular scene at the end of the Peanut Butter Falcon that ‘gets’ me, every time, without fail: the Atomic Throw.

Go Zack Gottsagen!

Some people may disagree about movies like these. It doesn’t matter to me.

The ending (I confess), I’ve watched on repeat.

I don’t want to give spoiler alerts (so, stop reading here) but one of the main characters gets to fulfil his dream. It’s an utterly anachronistic, deluded… entirely impossible dream; where expectant hope hits reality… and yet… he gets to live his dream, nevertheless.

His ‘atomic throw’.  

And it’s amazing.


And it’s amazing.

The truth is, this life will catch you – repeatedly – with its most unpleasant of painful fish-hooks, and often without warning. Bleed your lips, rip your gums inside out, rendering you – entirely speechless… in both physical and soul turmoil. Pulling you by the mouth in the direction it chooses, but you must keep believing that one day – by Grace – you’ll own it. You’ll turn around, look back, aim that rifle – and with that very final bullet (with the Great White oncoming) – just like Roy Schneider in Jaws, you’ll say –

Smile… you son-of-a-bitch!”

Look the enemy directly in the eyes and say, ‘Hold my beer.’


Keep going folks. Keep reaching, through the tiredness and despair – and the things that don’t make sense, and never will.

Because, if you keep hanging on, one day, you’ll get your atomic throw. I genuinely hope that for you. Keep going.


Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *