MHA's Blog: Chiming In

It’s a cliché that actors win Oscars when they play people with mental illnesses. The history proves it true, though. At my last count, 16 Oscars went to actors playing people with mental health or substance use conditions. The way they handle the topic varies with the time period, but overall, the roles are not positive. One of the most recent offenders is this week’s movie, A Beautiful Mind.

A Beautiful Mind tells the story of John Nash, a brilliant mathematician, as he attends graduate school at Princeton, works for the CIA after World War II, marries, and creates his Nobel Prize winning theory on competition. At the same time, he develops schizophrenia, which at times requires hospitalization. The movie follows his life over the decades between the beginning of his illness and his Nobel Prize. Jennifer Connelly won the Best Actress Oscar for her role as Nash’s wife Alicia, and Russell Crowe got a nomination for his role as Dr. Nash. The movie won best picture, and director Ron Howard won his only Oscar for the movie. Clearly, the Academy loved it. But is it actually a good depiction of schizophrenia?

It’s complicated, but the short answer is no. However, the portrayal is not as serious as the movie’s reputation. In fact, it does some symptoms of the disorder very well. The movie follows Nash’s point of view, so his delusions seem real for much of the movie. In particular, his roommate Charles is revealed to be a delusion halfway through the movie, as does his CIA boss. Both of those reveals are handled nicely, and Crowe is able to make you feel Nash’s confusion about the fact that they aren’t real. In fact, the first time I saw the movie, I remember being shocked by the reveal. The movie also does a lot of sophisticated camera work to highlight the connection between his illness and the creation of his theory. The use of images that mirror what Nash sees come into play, and how he imagines the theory itself is wonderfully portrayed.  The connection between mental health conditions and art is often highlighted, so it’s wonderful to see it connected to something as logical as math.

Where it fails, though, is in the second half of the movie. Once his illness is revealed, the narrative subtly shifts over to his wife Alicia. Nash is hospitalized, given electroshock therapy and medication, but we follow it from her point of view. We hear Nash tell his wife about the difficulties of thinking on the medication, but we lose the visual cues that made the beginning of the movie more exciting. His illness also reverts immediately to clichéd movie schizophrenia. He forgets how to take care of his child (doesn’t it seem like every movie about mental illness features a baby almost drowning in the bath?), and he tapes headlines to the walls and connects them with string. He drools while taking the medication. The uniqueness of what made Nash interesting enough for a biopic movie is gone, replaced with what Hollywood considers mental illness. He becomes a series of tics, and his wife becomes the long-suffering caregiver. Combine that with the fact that the rougher edges of his life were removed to make him more movie friendly and the parts just don’t add up. The fact that the movie is watchable at all is due to the strength of the lead performers.

What’s sad is that the pieces are right there to make this a fantastic movie. Nash makes the decision halfway through the movie to forgo medication and with the support of his wife, would never take them again. I remember the criticism of the movie at the time being that it was irresponsible to promote love as a cure for schizophrenia, but the movie doesn’t say that. It’s made particularly clear that he’s not cured of his illness (his delusions return), but that he works through them. He has the support of his family, his colleagues at Princeton and is able to overcome his illness without medication. It’s a highly progressive view of the treatment of mental illness, but the movie doesn’t actually show that. He’s not seen discussing his decision with his doctor, and there’s no mention of relapses or bad days. It really does seem like his wife’s pep talk about love means he’s now cured, instead of showing that he works on it. He tells another character that he does, but it’s too pat answer to a chronic condition, one that had been debilitating up until that point.

The fact that A Beautiful Mind fails to follow through on its original promise makes the movie a bigger disappointment. Added to the exposure its Oscars received, it becomes a bigger failure because of it. Showing all of the Oscar viewers that it’s possible to have schizophrenia, arguably the scariest mental illness, and still be a teacher, mathematician, father and member of society, would be immeasurable. Add on to that the fact that he’s not on regular medication at the same time makes the portrayal more powerful. But instead, the movie backs off and makes his journey the same Hollywood mental health story we’ve seen time and time again, stereotyped, incorrect and dangerous in its ignorance. It becomes the portrayal Hollywood loves to reward, instead of saying something powerful about a maligned illness.

Next week is Mental Health America’s Annual Conference so there won’t be a blog post. When we return, we’ll discuss Spider and its relation to memory. Have you seen A Beautiful Mind? Did it capture schizophrenia accurately in your view?