This movie left me conflicted. On the one hand, of course Sally Field is joyful and lovable, and she is a bright star. On the other hand, even as the bright music of Field plays, the film dances slowly with sad and pitiful, and while spinning around the floor, hurtful and mean-spirited cut in.
Okay, so maybe it is I who is too harsh. But I don’t like laughing at someone else’s expense when the person (here the character, not Field) isn’t trying to be funny, even in fiction. I don’t like making fun of the person who is being genuine with her feelings, who does not realize she is the butt of jokes, who has a good heart. I know, I know: that’s what the movie is supposed to do. But even still, I don’t have to like it while it does so.
( I should say here that I’m not sure I can discuss these issues well without giving away some of the plot, so warned, you are, of the semi-spoilers to come. )
The movie starts with Field, as Doris, attending her mother’s funeral. (That’s right, but I won’t really fault the movie for that; the movie didn’t know.) Doris’s mother was pretty much Doris’s whole world, and her world is now shattered. As the movie proceeds, we learn (rather quickly) the underlying issues of hoarding, obsession, and denial, just to name a few. Doris has many of these issues as well, passed on or learned from her mother. Maybe even these are from an over-bearing mother who guilted her daughter into giving up her life to caretake, that is, after Doris’s father died suddenly and unexpectedly.
But now—now Doris can move out. She can movie into the city where she works. She can spend more time with her friend (apparently her only friend, but recall Doris’s reclusiveness). Or can she? Are the years—no, decades—of her lack of an outside life something she can escape? At least here, it felt like the audience had some heart. (And I admit to some knowing head-nods at watching Doris want to keep everything “because you never know when you’ll need this” (Oy. I am not looking forward to organizing Mom’s house; she was a queen of saving things, you know, that she might use some day (but mostly organized and no where near the hoarding classification. Just a lot of stuff. 😉 ))) Doris is struggling. She’s not dealing well with grief. She’s not dealing.
Instead of dealing, she refocuses: Doris suddenly finds herself with a crush. Yes, on the MUCH younger new man in her office. This is exciting; maybe Doris is finally coming into her own. Maybe Doris can find a way to find happiness. But this is where the movie turned sad. This—-this Doris and her very young co-worker—-is not going to happen. At all. Ever. Except in Doris’s dreams. I ached for the hurt Doris is headed for.
Many of us have been there: feelings develop for someone, a romantic interest grows. One way only. The other person has zero idea. ZERO. And even less interest on *that* level. You’re not even seen as a potential as a romantic partner—-just a friend. A buddy. A pal. The other person doesn’t even see you as a person who dates. The other person thinks, “Oh, cool! Someone who likes a lot of the same things as me who wants to just hang out. No pressure. No dating. No ties.” At the same time, the person with the crush latches on to any little sign the feelings are mutual. That person rationalizes and excuses the failure to move forward. This is heading for heartache and discomfort quickly.
On the other hand (need I remind you I started this by stating the movie left me feeling conflicted?), how wonderful that Doris *finally* has some excitement in her life. She has been reclusively caring for her mother since she was barely out of high school. Now—–finally. She gets to have fun. She goes to a late-night concert. She meets funky, eclectic friends who genuinely like her. She stands up to and confronts her best friend. She laughs. She smiles. She has JOY.
Ah, but she also wanders down the path-to-nowhere-good of catfishing. Oy. Again: this is heading for heartache and discomfort quickly. Apparently, this is supposed to be funny in the script. I found it sad. And lonely. And desperate. And mean.
The laughter here seems to be framed with the age difference. But that’s no different than when the one with the crush is the not-very-physically appealing, whether due to weight, appearance, etc. and movies try to make us laugh at that—-at the unattractive. The overweight. The elder. (And writing this makes me realize how often this occurs when the laughter is geared at the female. Sure, you have the young male who leans nerd who develops the crush on the “hot” woman. But I’m trying to think of the issue for an adult male. I’ll have to think more on that. (or not.)) Regardless, laughter here makes me uncomfortable. Even if Doris’s friends cannot convince her this is a bad idea, that doesn’t mean we should laugh.
I will say the movie earns kudos for *not* letting our male lead be mean. He really is clueless that Doris feels as she does, seeing her as this cool great aunt type with a flair for the wacky and eccentric. Even when we hit the big reveal, he isn’t mean. Even better, he’s firm. And clear. (I think the MUCH worse scenario is when the subject of the crush takes gross advantage: “Sure, I know you really like me, so I’ll just String. You. Along. as long as I want so I have someone to do things with, someone to provide companionship, someone to Feed. My. Ego.” Yes, *that* is MUCH worse. (And yes, blame is better to be shared between the two in that situation, but somehow the one taking advantage does seem to tip the scales of blame just a bit in that person’s favor.)) And I appreciated the realism the movie used here (with sprinkled-in fantasy scenes).
All of that aside, of course, Sally Field is perfect. (Is she ever not? (Well, maybe when she didn’t offer to hold the crying infant my buddy held next to Field in first class, some 20-odd years ago on a flight.)) But even better is Tyne Daly. She is the widower friend who too has unhealthy hanging-on issues, ones Doris finally confronts, even if only to deflect the attention away from her own issues. But their friendship, now THAT is beautiful in this movie. Even after they fight, when Doris finds herself crushed, she reaches out to that friend, and that friend drops and comes. Those special people in our lives are rare gems. The tears streamed down my face watching this perfect display of love and friendship on the screen.
So as the movie ended, sure, some of it was too predictable. Some of it was too obvious. Some of it was too formulaic. And yes, it tried to make humorous what I saw as hurtful. But it also told the story of survival and friendship and deeper relationships. For this latter part, I liked the movie. And it was this latter part that drove me to include this not only in the comedy category, but also coming of age. No, Doris is not a teen finding adulthood. But she is a sheltered woman finding herself. At long last. We don’t all come into our own in our 20s. Or 30s. At least Doris finally does.
And for that, this movie left me happy. Even if conflicted.
(I know. I know. I’m overly sensitive. But I’m okay with that. 😉 )