“Oh Captain! My captain!”
Too late for our cries to be heard…
It meant getting to bed late, but I couldn’t stop myself staying up to watch “Good Will Hunting” last night. The park scene is probably one of the finest monologues in film history. At nearly five minutes long a skill in itself just to deliver, but Williams’ sensitivity in doing so is so powerful that you’re struggling not to well up by the end of it.
It would be nice to think it affects men more than it does women. At its heart the film is a “bromance”. Like the “The Shawshank Redemption” and “The King’s Speech” films that have tackled the difficult subject of men talking to each other about their feelings, without losing what they feel is their male reserve, and I’d hope done more to help men around the world connect with their emotions and their need to talk about things than anything else. In this scene Williams is basically saying — I know you’re afraid to talk, and japing around as a result, but you need to be more sensitive to my struggles in ways that you would expect me to be sensitive to yours — and I can’t think of a better scene at doing it in any other film.
Williams’ filmography is littered with similar works. So there is bitter irony that the very genius that delivered that message, for the benefit of all men, felt so unable to talk about his own problems that he took his own life.
He was having a bad run; rumours (now refuted) of divorce having made him short for money; recent failures in his career with The Crazy Ones being cancelled. All of these were probably bearable, but, if the stories about Parkinsons are true, I can see how Williams particularly might have seen this as an abyss from which he saw no point in trying to raise himself.
Some might suggest that he was intelligent, witty, successful, wealthy, so how could he have had problems? However, that would be to fail in exactly the way this scene in the film tries to suggest we should not. Strip away the success and at his heart everyone reports him as someone who was just keen to cheer people up. So the thought of losing his quickness of tongue was probably just a life shattering blow too far.
A desperately sad end for one of the most important actors and comedians of his generation — and too late for our cries of “Captain my captain” on twitter to pull him back from his abyss…
It has raises an interesting discussion about depression and suicide. We often assume it does not affect people we might admire and respect. The fact that it has, I hope will do more for us developing greater sympathy and understanding for the condition.
This article in particular raises an interesting comparison about how we view diseases. It is true we do blame death on the disease when someone has struggled to fight it, but we do turn the blame on the person when the disease causes them to give up the fight. We do implicitly judge, I suppose just because we are terrified of that loss of control in ourselves.
The trouble is this it is a very hard illness to diagnose and treat, the Royal College of Psychiatrists reports that 2/3 of those suffering from mental health issues go undiagnosed. I’d imagine this problem is worldwide, and the main fight we have in helping those on the verge of suicide. The reality is though that there is no easy test, and there is no easy drug — so it is always going to be so much harder.
Nanu nanu, signing off — I hope you find your way back to Ork Mork...
