Seeing as I am on a 1970s movie kick, I opted last night for one of the greatest '70s films of all -- indeed, a movie many consider one of the greatest ever made.
If you haven't seen it, you must. Long before Jack Nicholson became a caricature of himself, he played the cocky resident of a mental institution, a petty criminal who scammed his way into the place because he couldn't follow the rules in prison and figured serving his time in a nutbin would be easier. Unfortunately, he hadn't bargained on the miserable hag in charge of his ward, Nurse Ratched, played with chilling brilliance by Louise Fletcher, who won a best actress Academy Award for the role in the 1975 film.
Nicholson, perfecting the swagger that made him so famous, won best actor, Milos Forman won best director and the film itself won best picture. It also won the best adapted screenplay Oscar.
Cuckoo's Nest is hilariously funny -- among the lunatics we find a very young Danny DeVito and a wild-eyed Christopher Lloyd -- but in the end, it's profoundly sad and disturbing. Produced by Michael Douglas -- yes, that Michael Douglas, who should have stayed on that side of the camera instead of horrifying us with his saggy ass in "Basic Instinct" -- Cuckoo's Nest is a film that will stay with you a long, long time, and one of the most iconic movies of its generation.
10 comments:
Great film. Really quite a revolutionary view of patients right's for the time. ken Kesy wrote the book. it was his first. He was inspired by time he spent at a veteran's hospital where he had volunteered for psychoactive drug testing, mostly LSD. He disapproved of the casting of Jack Nicholson, he wanted Gene Hackman and was annoyed that they didn't use the narration by the Chief as he had in the book.
REad the book and saw the movie ages ago. Recently heard a radio documentary that agreed with your assessment on this flick. It also deconstructed it, saying it was a reflection on post-Watergate America.
Definitely one of my favourite movies of all time.
Good review, Jacy. Haven't seen this in eons; must rent it soon.
And isn't the guy with the long weird face named Dale?
Ah, we owe such a debt of gratitude to the unbalanced!
This movie, of course, and then the obvious painters like Van Gogh and Goya. But let's not forget Géricault's monomane portraits... and writers like Plath, or Woolf, or more recently Faulk's Human Traces. The list goes on and on.
I think Henry Miller was right when he said that madness was an invigorating tonic that makes the sane more sane. But the tricky part is taking one's own mental leave of absence in such a way so as not to scare off friends and acquaintances. A delicate business...
Is anybody home?
...Bueller...?
Is this blog over? Then shouldn't you people at least sign off with a message of some sort? What an ignominous end to what was once a relevant blog.
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