Then & Now 1: Mental Diagnosis Cinema

In attempting to write something for Huffington Post submission, I came up with an idea for a blog series. With "Then & Now", I'll look at two movies, one from my childhood and one recently released, loosely or tightly connected, that have affected me for better or worse. 

Thoughts? Suggestions? Please leave a comment.

THEN

Late 1997 and into early 1998, I was on the hunt to watch the Best Picture nominees before the Oscar ceremony. I had already seen Titanic three times at this point (with the ticket stubs to prove it) and L.A. Confidential twice. I would have to wait on a video store trip for The Full Monty, so Good Will Hunting and As Good As It Gets were of immediate concern. All I recall about the Hunting screening was that it was packed, and that girls were swooning over Damon and Affleck. All I recall about As It Gets? A shocking on screen realization. "That's me" I said to myself and whoever was seated nearby.

Jack Nicholson's performance of a shut in, anxious, obsessive compulsive writer made my jaw drop. I was just an average middle schooler... who routinely carried ticket stubs in his right front pocket every time he went out, hummed the Star Wars theme when walking down hallways and nervously placed items in certain directions for fear of causing harm. Average, absolutely. And here was this movie centered on characters with heavy neurotic problems, heavily describing my day to day life. I do remember watching Woody Allen's Sleeper at a younger age, but the context of that viewing was more on the silliness of the scenarios, not the specificity of emotional and behavioral issues. Until the 2000's, As Good As It Gets would be my go to for timid people on screen. Or rather, for watching people like me on screen.

Believe it or not, it was Billy Crystal who would sum up As It Gets for me, in his opening musical number at the Academy Awards. He belted out, and I'm paraphrasing, "Compulsive, obsessive, impulsive, depressive; this is as good as it gets?" The three main characters each, in their own way, would represent parts of me, at least overtime. I've experienced heightened elements of each, though none more so than anxiety - embodied by the OCD Nicholson. Irrational worry and concern over things that I couldn't possibly be in control of.

This James L. Brooks film will always hold a positive, even romantic, angle for me. I couldn't see it at the time - too focused on the mirror image staring at me - but it's really an advocate for self exploration and exposure therapy (something I would painfully and thankfully go through sometime after). Recently, Lars Von Trier's Anti Christ and Melancholia would successfully breach what it feels like to participate in such a program, though with a more aggressive edge. As Good As It Gets doesn't present things as cutesy or sugar coated, but doesn't show them as ugly or monsterish either. More or less, it's a dramatic comedy written and directed for the performances to shine. The depiction of mental illness is certainly central to how the main characters connect with one another, but handled, I would argue, with more subtlety than expected. It's careful, but not too cautious.

That last moment, when Nicholson unknowingly steps on a crack in the ground, realizes it, and moves on without making a big deal, hits me hard every time. I wanted to reach that point of progress so bad back then. "That's who I want to be" I would say to myself, when finishing the VHS copy of the movie. Rewind, repeat. Rewind, repeat.

NOW

If you haven’t been caught up in the jaws of Jurassic World, you’re probably diving head first (puns intended) into Pixar’s latest and, dare I say, greatest. At the advance screening I attended, many audience members - including some fellow New Orleanian critics - were crying during the duration of the film. Openly weeping, even. Adults, to clarify. What struck me as interesting through this awkward but appropriate experience was that we all came into this movie with different perspectives. For many of the grown moviegoers, they were getting the feels from either being parents or thinking about their own childhood, more than likely identifying with both Riley (the central character) and her family. 

This, as I understand, is the default setting when walking into the theater.

For me, Inside Out hit like a brick when it came to the abstract existence of the internal characters, with my attention being paid to Joy, Sadness and Fear. On a recent HuffPostLive (on which my friend and colleague Chris Henson was a guest) the thought that only a few emotions were expressed was passed around. Clearly, the emotions running things inside Riley aren’t bound by just their names. For example, Fear isn’t just a scaredy cat. He’s a detail oriented nervous wreck, nit picking every little thing with a timidity that only someone who has had panic attacks can understand. And Sadness isn’t just, well, sad. She’s depressed, of course. She’s bleak here and there, remembering scenarios that brought about loneliness and hurt. But, she’s also empathetic and capable of relatability and understanding. Yet, she’s presented and treated by Joy as a nuisance.

Joy may be happy and positive, but she’s also a major B word. When Riley has her first day of school, Joy tells Sadness she has a “special” job for her. Sadness starts to smile, until she realizes that Joy wants her out of the way and doing nothing. She is kept in a chalked in circle, at least until she is compelled to act. Joy might be happy and upbeat, but she’s also quite backhandedly aggressive with her bliss.

At the moment of Riley’s mental awakening, Joy was the first to fade into being. Wide eyed, she herself learned as Riley learned. A manual on how to operate the command center on Riley’s  internal process would eventually be found, setting off a whole set of questions in my own mind. Who is in control? Is anyone in control? Are we just reacting to external instances? Who wrote that manual? What if Riley’s first feeling was Fear? How about Anger? What would Riley be like if Joy wasn’t the leader?

These are not scary questions and thoughts, but if they are, then this is one creepy mamma jamma of a movie… I’ve had these very ideas since childhood, always questioning everything. I even thought of my body as an Osmosis Jones style place with personalities and reason within human understanding, acting as people and not reacting as organisms. Fanciful hypothesis aside, what is Inside Out trying to tell us, if anything?

1. We aren’t as in control as we’d like to think.
2. Within even the most negative of feeling is the potential for positivity and maturity.

No, I’m not suggesting that there is a spiritual bent to the film, but rather that we and the filmmakers acknowledge that we still don’t know the nuts and bolts of emotion. What we do know, and what is expressed most prominently, is the yin/yang of it all. That feelings of all sorts should be embraced for what they are and for what they can become. They have strengths as well as weaknesses. Within us all is a cauldron of great power, expectations and progress. Too much Fear and Sadness can be horrible, but the same can be said of Joy - we call that Bi Polar. A balance must be found. It can take time, it can be trying, but the end result is a much more mature individual.

Is Inside Out meant more for kids or for adults? Or, another way of putting it - Do grown ups or children have more to gain from Pixar’s message on mental maturity? A movie ticket is cheaper than therapy, for now at least.

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