BEFORE: I had to alter my intended movie plans, since a DVD that I ordered on eBay got shipped via Media Mail, which took longer than I thought. So I'm calling an audible until I hit Movie #500, when I can get back on track.
Last night, Sam Rockwell as a sex addict put the "fun" into "dysfunctional" - so let's keep with the theme of messed-up men and watch this one, which my wife's been recommending for years.
THE PLOT: A troubled man talks to his suicidal sister's psychiatrist about their family history and falls in love with her in the process.
AFTER: I've got a lot of quibbles - let's say "issues" - with this film. And there's a lot of blame to go around...where do I start? Let me do something a little different, and address the movie's characters directly.
Let's start with you, Sally Wingo (Blythe Danner) - your husband travels to New York to help out his suicidal sister, and you pick that exact time to tell him you're in love with someone else? Not cool. And when you don't know who to choose, you turn for comfort and understanding to the man you're cheating on? There's a way to break up with someone, and you're doing it wrong. You're selfish and spineless.
And you, Tom Wingo (Nick Nolte). Your wife says that another man has caught her eye - so your response is to run away and spend as much time in New York as you can? Sure, that'll help. I understand you're in town to help out your sister - so do you think maybe you could take some time away from visiting museums, art galleries and coffee shops to, I don't know - spend more than an hour a day with her? And when your therapy sessions start to be more about YOU than your sister, how exactly does that help her? Essentially, she's become your therapist - do you think maybe you could avoid flirting with her? I know you're going through a tough time and all - but that doesn't mean you should end up in bed with the first woman you meet in NYC. This isn't going to save your marriage (oh, wait, I forgot, this is a movie - apparently this is just want the doctor ordered...) And you still have three daughters, how about visiting them once in a while - sorry to tear you away from the Big Apple, though.
Then we have Lila Wingo (Kate Nelligan) - did you really think it was a good idea to tell each of your kids that they're your favorite? That just sets up competition - it's called sibling rivalry, look it up. And you stayed with an abusive husband, how did that help you or the kids? Feeding your husband dog food, now that's constructive. These kids are going to grow up needing tons of therapy. (Happy Mother's Day, everyone!)
Now, Dr. Susan Lowenstein (Barbra Streisand) - where are your ethics? I realize that officially, Tom Wingo is NOT your patient - but you're still giving him therapy sessions, since he is his sister's "memory" (she's conveniently blocked out any parts of her childhood that would give us any insights). Isn't he sort of your patient, by transitory properties? How about some boundaries? You dance with him at a party, hire him as a football coach (/substitute father...) for your son, and c'mon, admit it - you find that Southern charm irresistible. Maybe you should refer him to a therapist that's not so personally involved. You obviously know he needs help, or at least you would if you weren't so wrapped up in yourself.
You're partially to blame, Henry Woodruff (Jeroen Krabbe) - you're a famous concert violinist, always on the road, so what right do you have to get mad when your son takes up football? Or when your wife gets attracted to a Southern man? Plus you're having an affair with your pianist - and you antagonize your dinner guests with musical taunts like "Dixieland" played on your Stradivarius. You're just a huge douchebag.
Finally, we have Bernard Woodruff (Jason Gould, Barbra's real-life son). Quit whining. "Oh, I didn't make the football team!" Man up and stop sulking. I didn't even get to THINK about playing sports, and I turned out all right.
I'm giving a pass to Eddie (George Carlin), the gay neighbor. Why? Because I like George Carlin. My rules, I make 'em up. (and yes, that's a reference to Carlin's great stand-up routine about sports) And for once, I had no issues with the way that a gay man was portrayed in a film. He showed some restraint and wasn't a lisping, drama-queen caricature.
The other thing that bothers me is how this film coddles Barbra Streisand, and I'm not just referring to the usual camera angles and soft-focus lenses. Her therapist character is portrayed as the one with all the answers, the magical, faultless genius - but therapy is a long, complicated process. It's not enough to expose a man's inner demons, then leave then just hanging out there - without figuring out what it all means, or helping him deal. No, let's just rip off that scar tissue and let the wound bleed - that'll fix everything. And when that fails, just have sex with him - because somehow sex with the magical one will fix his marriage - huh? Having an affair will get him ready to go back to his wife? I'm not following.
See, good things happen to the characters who join the cult and accept Barbra as their personal savior...
But just because other people are having affairs (even your spouse), it doesn't make YOUR affair right. If everyone you knew was jumping off a bridge, would you? (Why, yes, Mom, it's called bungee-jumping...) But men, pay attention because this movie essentially gives you license to cheat on your wife. "But, Honey, I only slept with her so I would be emotionally ready to go back to you!" And if you can find a woman who buys that as an excuse, then you're golden.
RATING: 4 out of 10 shoulder pads
Great review! I saw this movie ages ago, when it was in theaters, I think. What a Barbra-fest. For some reason, I recall la lot of emphasis on her French manicured fingernails. They were in almost every shot of her. I don't recall George Carlin in the movie at all, which is good, because now my memory of him remains untainted.
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