PG | 1 h 57 min | Drama | 1989
Screenwriter-director Gary David Goldberg’s comedy is about boys who always remain sons, and men who don’t always go on to become fathers, at least not the fathers they want to be.
John’s been estranged from his wife and grown son, Bill (Ethan Hawke) for years. When an equally concerned Bill arrives, John regrets his lifelong preoccupation with work, laments times he wasn’t there for Bill growing up. John finds he has a shot at being a dad all over again. Only, now it’s him, as son, caring for his father. He exults in discovering newer, warmer bonds.
With convalescing Bette in the background, Jake starts enjoying being his own man again. Then, it’s his turn to fall sick. But it’s not “just a cyst,” it’s cancer. In and out of hospitals, with doctors nowhere near as sensitive as John is, Jake nurses a dream life with Bette and his children. In the dream, she’s more free and fun-loving than in real life.
It’s hard to tell which bits in Jake’s mind are flashbacks of happier memories with Bette when she really was more amenable, and which are alternate realities with a kinder Bette he’s conjuring up. He retreats into himself because real life lacks sufficient joy.
That compels Bette, John, and Bill to reflect. Do they hold on to those they love when they should let go? Do they let go too easily when they should be holding on? Can they create loving memories not just for Jake, but for themselves, instead of hoarding regret and guilt?
Fun and Fulfilling Family Life
“I have the willpower of a woman half my age,” Bette sternly reassures Jake, from her hospital bed. A hovering nurse, who’s had a taste of that formidable willpower, mutters, “You underestimate yourself!”Goldberg’s screenplay is funny in the way his characters wield sarcasm and irony. Thankfully, he doesn’t overdo it. His direction draws perceptively on minutiae about aging parents that’ll be familiar to many. Annie reminds John, “Mom has a schedule, and their life is essentially one long routine.” Jake gardens and putters around his greenhouse. She does pretty much everything else. The only “fun” thing they do together is sit at a Bingo game with other aged folk; he finds it excruciating but never resists.
John seems stunned to return to a dad who forgets things, can’t find his pajamas, and trails off while speaking. Annie says plainly, “Dad just got old, John.” Trouble is, Bette’s treated Jake like a child who can’t think or act for himself and Jake’s treated Bette like a parent. He even calls her “mother,” centering not only what she is to their kids, but to him as well. She cares, but in ways that fulfill her maternal instinct. She hasn’t found ways to love that fulfill him too.
“Mother” drives Jake everywhere. Once an ace driver, he doesn’t renew his driver’s license, frightened he’d fail. He feels active wearing a cap. She forbids it, doesn’t want him looking “too tough, like Johnny Cash.” With no job to drive to, Jake’s dignity dives. He recalls that after decades at his desk, when he finally left, someone new replaced him like he’d never been there.
With John around, Jake gets his license back, cooks, makes his bed, vacuums carpets, and waxes floors. Despite a faltering memory, he fondly recalls the Dodgers-Yankees rivalry he grew up with and enjoys pitch practice in the yard with John. In one poignant scene, Jake’s fallen out of bed from a fearful fit with his eyes wide with horror at what’s happening to him. Later, he tells John that he has no trouble accepting death’s inevitability but fears having fun sucked out of his life just because he’s older, “Dying is not a sin. Not living is.”
