The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015. Remaining movies: 175 Days to go: 178
Movie #202: One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
When AFI released its 50 Greatest Villains, Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher) was right there at #5. Now, make no mistake, Nurse Ratched is a cold, exacting bitch who manipulates and stealthily, maliciously torments her patients, all while wielding a soothing voice to hide her disdainful stare, but I think it’s about time there was some real talk about One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. That being, specifically, R. P. McMurphy (Jack Nicholson) is a real asshole. And an irresponsible asshole at that. That’s not to say that McMurphy deserves everything he gets — I would never say that — but let’s not delude ourselves that Ratched isn’t at least a little bit justified in her hatred of him.
I first became fascinated with One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest because it was on one of those lists of Things From the Year of Your Birth that you get at novelty stores or whatever. It was awarded the Best Picture Oscar that year, and I’ve always felt a little bit connected to it as a result — long before I ever watched the thing. Then when AFI’s Top 100 Films of All Time came out and I set about trying to see as many as I could of the ones I hadn’t yet, there it was again. I watched it, and I loved it. It really is a phenomenal picture. The Academy wasn’t wrong. (It also won Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Director, all deserved.)
R.P. McMurphy is a petty criminal who gets in a lot of fights and never plays by the rules and stirs up trouble as a general rule. He’s not a bad guy, exactly, but he’s not a hero either. He’s a jerk. He’s obnoxious and selfish and rude and he has absolutely no respect for authority. So as a way to game the system, he’s decided to act crazy in jail in order to get transferred to the state mental hospital. He thinks it’ll be a cakewalk. He’ll have a little fun, get out from under the thumb of the prison guards, and go back to his life when his sentence is over. Joke’s on him, though, because the hospital ward is Nurse Ratched’s domain, and she and the doctors there can extend his stay as long as they see fit. He’s been committed, you see, and while she knows (as the doctors do) that he’s not crazy, he’s made a point to be a pain in her ass, so she votes to keep him under their care for the time being rather than send him back to jail.
McMurphy is pissed at this, naturally — not that he knows she voted to keep him there but when he finds out his sentence won’t run out in 68 days like he thought — but he still makes no effort whatsoever to toe the line. He’s spent all his time on the ward riling up the patients — most of whom are there voluntarily because they have extreme depression, anger or other social anxieties — gambling away the few privileges they have, and constantly trying to escape. Then he throws a huge party in ward one night, sneaking in booze and chicks before he runs away for good, but manages to pass out drunk before he runs away, and he’s caught again. It probably wouldn’t be the end of him if he didn’t then try to strangle Nurse Ratched for her cruel and unrelenting treatment of a fellow patient following the night’s debauchery. Attempted murder is not going to win you any favors, it turns out.
So if McMurphy isn’t the hero of the story then, who is? If Nurse Ratched is the villain, then someone must be the hero, right? The hero, it turns out, is Chief (Will Sampson). He’s a large, looming Native American who appears to one and all as deaf and dumb. McMurphy treats him as a pal, though, despite the claims that Chief has no idea what McMurphy’s even saying. It doesn’t matter. Mac plays basketball with him and jokes around with him and makes him feel like part of the group, and eventually Chief reveals he can hear and talk just fine. The two become good friends, and Mac tries to convince Chief to run away with him, but Chief is there (and faking a serious disability) because he can’t face the world, can’t talk to people, can’t leave the security of the ward. He’s afraid of it all and plays the role of the deaf-mute because it prevents him, then, from having to try to engage and to talk and to interact with others. Chief’s triumph at the end, therefore, is truly inspiring and heartwarming. He’s lost his friend (well before Mac returns to the ward, it turns out, making what happens next more an act of mercy than anything else), but he still finds the strength to go, to leave the confines of the ward, with all its safe and familiar routines, and to head out into the great expanse of the distant mountains. It’s a lovely ending.
The ward is filled with notable performances from a lot of recognizable and renowned actors, as well. There’s a really young Danny DeVito as Martini, a lanky and bald Christopher Lloyd as Taber, Sidney Lassick as Cheswick, Vincent Schiavelli as Fredrickson, and prolific character actor Brad Dourif in his first credited role as the tragic and adored Billy Bibbit. While most of these patients still won’t leave the ward after McMurphy’s time there (and poor Billy’s is cut short by circumstances brought on by both McMurphy and Ratched, despite McMurphy’s view of things), he did bring confidence and verve back into their lives. He made them a little more open, a little more sure of themselves, a little more alive — at least for a time. So maybe McMurphy is a hero in his own right. A tragic hero, perhaps. One who never really lived up to his potential, was fouled by his own colossal screw-ups, and one who ultimately lost everything, but one who made a little bit of a difference — who made things just a little bit better for a while.
It’s a thought, anyway.
Viable Option 