"Terms of Endearment" (1983) and "50/50" (2011)

                           

As I write this, the number of coronavirus cases in the US is steadily growing.  The new cases and deaths are tabulated and printed each day, to be analyzed and discussed at length.  When the daily numbers aren’t causing me fresh anxiety, they make me numb. When the virus becomes just an alarming set of statistics, I forget that every number in those statistics represents a human individual, and the others around that individual whose lives are also affected.

With Coronavirus as the main topic of discussion, it’s easy to forget that there are people with other afflictions and illnesses that are just as scary, and the resulting deaths of which are just as heartbreaking.  These people, and the people whose lives are affected around them, merit attention and compassion as well.

One example: In the US this year, it is expected that there will be over 1,800,000 new cases, and over 606,000 deaths…from cancer.  Unfortunately, like the coronavirus statistics, there are no estimates about those who are expected to recover.

Two popular Hollywood movies help to remind us that the statistics actually represent human lives.  Each life is a full story, and involves so many people.  The Oscar-winning 1980s blockbuster “Terms of Endearment”, and the contemporary true story, “50/50”, introduce us to rich, complex characters, and the effects of a cancer diagnoses on themselves, their parents, friends, lovers, caregivers, and acquaintances.

One is a nostalgic series of vignettes, culminating in inevitable tragedy and how people cope with it.  The other puts cancer front and center, and explores the unique challenges of recovery.

As emotionally cleansing as each film is, they both benefit from a focus on compelling characters, a comic tone, and an honest, straightforward approach to a serious topic. Both films offer as many laughs as tears—if not more.

 

“TERMS OF ENDEARMENT”

“…In a few years when I haven't been around to be on your tail about something or irritating you, you're gonna realize that you love me. And maybe you're gonna feel badly, because you never told me. But don't - I know that you love me. So don't ever do that to yourself, all right?”  --Emma Greenway, talking to her young sons for the last time.

Shirley MacLaine and Debra Winger give unforgettable performances in “Terms of Endearment”, the multiple Oscar-winner from 1983. It’s one of the last and best examples of the domestic comedy/drama which director James L Brooks, a veteran of television, expertly translated to the big screen. The kind of layered, involving human drama exemplified by “Terms of Endearment”  has largely disappeared from major Hollywood films.

MacLaine is Aurora Greenway, a recent widow, and matriarch of a well-to-do Houston household. She’s a firebrand, who develops a fear-and-desire relationship with her devil-may-care neighbor, a retired astronaut named Garrett Breedlove (Jack Nicholson). Aurora has a daughter, Emma, over whose life she goes to great lengths to control, sometimes to hilarious effect. 

Debra Winger is Emma, a feisty and rebellious young woman with a throaty voice and a fighting spirit.  She stands her ground with Aurora as she begins her own life with a cute and wayward husband, Flap Horton (Jeff Daniels).

The film follows Aurora and Emma over thirty years, telling  parallel stories of their relationships, failures, fears, happiness and heartbreak.  

Aurora’s relationship with Garrett proceeds in slapstick fits and starts over several years, and slowly develops into a comforting bond between two people who are just beginning to address their own decline.  Emma’s marriage goes from dreamy romance to motherhood to infidelity, with her share of comic escapades, until a fateful routine medical visit, which drives the rest of the film.

Over those thirty years, Aurora and Emma carry on a running conversation/argument, mostly by phone, in a relationship of antagonism and mutual support. Given the title of the film, it is interesting that neither one ever tells the other  “I love you”.  Yet the film, on the strength of the writing and performances, never leaves any doubt. 

The movie proceeds in lengthening vignettes, separated by fade-outs to show the passage of time.  “Terms of Endearment” is like a series of endings, and with each a comes a new beginning: romance, residence, friendship, parenthood, even life itself. 

The plot doesn’t naturally lead to a climax, but builds to a crisis where every character must deal with the death of a protagonist after a rapidly-growing cancer.  We see the ways in which people come together, rally around each other, and release their grief, sometimes with anger, sometimes with humor.  

Even the word “cancer” gets one of the biggest laughs in the film, as Emma does her best to look at the future head-on. 

 “Terms of Endearment” takes an anonymous statistic  and gives us the human story behind it, and the ripple effect that person’s illness and death has on those around her.

When Emma’s two young sons visit her in the hospital, in various stages of denial and mourning, Emma gives them the kindest gift a parent can give her children. She helps take away any future guilt or regret, in one of the most intense and tender scenes in the film.  Aurora reveals her love for Emma near the end. Thinking that Emma's passing would come as a relief, she realizes that there is nothing harder.

The film is not cinematically challenging.  James L. Brooks keeps things easy and the mood light; he is one of the least “dark” filmmakers I know. He is a skilled moviemaker who keeps his effects invisible.  We are never meant to take away artistic inspiration from the film. Instead, Brooks wisely concentrates on the characters and the beautiful script, keeping the actors in center frame, cutting smoothly, allowing us the full  humorous, bittersweet catharsis of being alive.

Even the music, by Michael Gore (“Fame”) sounds like solace, giving the movie a consistently nostalgic tone.  The score reminds me of how I feel when paging through an old photo album, smiling, remembering, and longing for people who are gone.

“Terms of Endearment” is based on a novel by Larry McMurtry”, who is an expert at creating multi-faceted characters.  Three movies, which have been based on his novels, or for which he co-wrote the screenplay, resulted in 11 Oscar nominations (and four wins) for acting: “Terms of Endearment”, 4 nominations; “Brokeback Mountain” 3 nominations; and “The Last Picture Show” 4 nominations.

Shirley MacLaine is a triumph as Aurora, a fussy, sarcastic woman who nevertheless learns to relax, and comes through when people need her. Debra Winger has the most difficult arc as Emma, and hits the marks every time.  MacLaine and Winger have perfect mother-daughter chemistry even in their animosity. And Jack Nicholson brings his impish charm to the role of Garrett, which was invented for the film.  Nicholson makes the character his own; it's hard to imagine that the part was originally written for Burt Reynolds.

 

“50/50”

“Have you ever seen ‘Terms of Endearment’?”  --Adam trying to find a way to tell his mother that he has cancer.

In 2005, screenwriter Will Reiser was diagnosed with rare cancerous tumors of the spine. He was 25 years old.  After learning to accept his diagnosis, informing his friends and family, and enduring chemotherapy and back surgery, he survived.  Reiser’s good friend, Seth Rogen, encouraged Reiser to write a screenplay about his experience.

The result is the independently produced “50/50”, a surprisingly upbeat and enjoyable film about a dire subject.  It’s edgier than “Terms of Endearment”, often crudely funny, and is surprisingly big-hearted.  It looks at cancer and its repercussions straight in the eye, and covers the experience in an engaging and personal way.

Joseph Gordon Levitt, a wonderful and underrated young actor, plays Reiser’s counterpart, here named Adam Lerner.  Adam shares a house with his hesitant artist-girlfriend Rachel (Bryce Dallas Howard); and hangs out with his best friend Kyle (Rogan, playing a fictional version of himself), who is also Adam's co-worker at the Seattle-based NPR station. Adam is likeable, health-conscious, and laid-back; he is the prototypical single 30-something, trying to make a life for himself.

Adam gets his diagnosis early in the film, from a doctor who barely looks at him as he delivers the troubling news. His specific type of cancer (schwannoma neurofibrosarcoma) is so hard to pronounce that the very name provides comic material.

"50/50" does a thorough job of taking us on Adam’s journey through his physical challenges, his emotional confusion, and his need to redefine his relationships.  The film observes how the people in Adam’s life support him or abandon him to various degrees, how they react, how they accept or deny, and try to find the right words to help ease Adam’s pain.

Kyle doesn’t hide his revulsion over Adam’s affliction,  but he handles it with loyalty and gross humor.  The head-shaving scene, with Adam using the clippers that Kyle uses for “manscaping”, perfectly sums up the lighthearted way the two friends help each other navigate this unfamiliar territory.  (Levitt actually shaved his head in this scene which was largely improvised by both actors in character). Kyle, for all of his raunchy language and unbridled libido, turns out to be Kyle’s emotional anchor in the trenches.

Seth Rogan is the comic glue that holds the picture together. At first, his outlandish behavior almost overwhelms the film. As Adam’s situation threatens to become tragic, we appreciate Rogan’s unorthodox ways of showing support and providing comfort.  He appears selfish at first, only to camouflage the deep love he has for his friend.

Rachel feels obligated to help Adam through the worst part of his chemotherapy, but soon is turned off by it, admitting that she doesn’t want to mix his hospital visits with their domestic life.  She winds up betraying him.  With Kyle’s help, Adam convinces her to move out (and hilariously destroys one of her awful paintings in the bargain).  

Bryce Dallas Howard has a thankless role as Rachel. Her character does redeem herself when she gives Adam an adopted dog.  The sad-eyed, anorexic-looking Greyhound, named Skeletor, is an awesome addition to the movie.  You can't not fall in love with this needy little guy.

The film goes deeper. 

Adam is referred to Katie, a young therapist who turns out to be a doctoral student with little experience.  The stilted attempts at therapy slowly turn into actual communication and caring.  Anna Kendrick plays Katie with the halting enthusiasm of a young professional who tries too hard but prevails with sincere interest and compassion.  Seeing Adam and Katie develop their relationship is intriguing.

Adam meets two men in his chemo sessions who are much older than he is. In spite of their age difference, they become friends; they even turn Adam on to pot-laced macaroons, which provides some temporary comic relief from Adam's discomfort.

Most poignant are scenes with Adam and his parents.  His mother, played by the amazing Anjelica Huston, is a strong presence who worries over Adam to the point of smothering him.  She is also a caregiver to Adam’s father, who suffers from Alzheimer’s disease.  Adam’s sudden recognition of his mother’s concern for him in the midst of her lonely, difficult situation, and the depths of her love, provide the film’s most moving subplot.  

Joseph Gordon-Levitt is a perfect audience surrogate. He has an open, honest face, and he transitions easily between the movie's emotional highs and lows.  Levitt does more than inhabit the life of an actual person; he infuses Adam's character with real humanity.  

Like “Terms of Endearment”, “50/50” concentrates on character, and shows that the statistics about “cases” and “fatalities” are actually stories about individuals whose lives touch many people.

Adam’s illness and recovery are not too different from the situation in which we find ourselves.  Every day poses new questions about the coronavirus.  And even when the virus is under control, there are millions of others suffering from diseases that have thwarted science for decades.  Eventually, we will get a handle on the Covid-19 situation; but the challenges won’t entirely disappear.

The final line in the film, spoken between Adam and Katie as they reach a new crossroads in their lives and their relationship, sums up what we might all be saying when we do find the right path to obliterating the pandemic: “Now what?”

I found great comfort in watching “Terms of Endearment” and “50/50” on consecutive evenings.  While the former is a conventional tale, a grand soap-opera and a master-class in writing and performing, the latter is like its offspring, trying to break away from its elder’s conventions, yet eventually recognizing the value of character and emotion. Best of all, both films approach their material with great humor and honesty.