“Ordinary People” – 1980

On the heels of “Kramer vs. Kramer,” and for the second year in a row, a film about family struggles won Best Picture. Even its title – Ordinary People – signals that these issues were far more prevalent than anyone would admit. These people really looked “ordinary” on the outside, or tried to convey that image, but inside each struggled deeply in their own ways.

The film’s core issue was also reminiscent of “The Deer Hunter,” as each examined how people respond differently to trauma. In this film, a family is dealing with the accidental death of a son. An additional element not discussed in “The Deer Hunter,” though, was essential to this story: the benefit of professional help when needed to assist in trauma recovery (and the pitfalls of avoiding that help and trying to “gut it out” alone.)

Conrad Jarrett, the remaining son in the family (portrayed by a young Timothy Hutton) attempted to take his life after his brother’s death. As the film starts, Conrad has returned home from the hospital, recovering but still an emotional wreck. He finally seeks counseling (Judd Hirsch) and it makes a difference. He turns a corner and his life gets back on track toward health.

His mother, Beth Jarrett, holds it all in and puts on a happy face. She refuses to deal with her pain or share that all is not well. She believes issues should be either not talked about at all, or at most kept private and within the family. Yet, in so doing, she loses the family she tried so hard to keep “perfect”.

It was fascinating to see Mary Tyler Moore in the role of the emotionally cold, distant and messed up mother, since Mary was best known as the totally lovable, perfectly with-it and wise TV characters Laura Petrie (The Dick Van Dyke Show) and Mary Richards (“Who can turn the world on with her smile?” – The Mary Tyler Moore Show.)

In the end, the film was about control. Conrad thought he wanted to learn to be “in control,” but he really got improved once he gave up control. Beth maintained her outer control, and endured more loss.

People generally like to feel “in control” and feel out of sorts when they “lose control.” But which is better? And, more importantly, are we ever really “in control” … even when we think we are?

And a whole lot of popcorn: I remember one of my classmates in a history class in junior high. She was very excited to go to the snow with her family over the Thanksgiving holiday break. She sat in the next row over, one chair ahead of mine. Following Thanksgiving, I waited to hear how her trip was with her family but she didn’t come back. Then we heard the awful news: a car crash on a snowy road had killed her and her family.

I was truly affected by this young girl’s death. So much joy, so much energy, so much anticipation, followed by an empty school chair. A stark reminder of reality’s larger issues played out upon the stage of real life.

Each life has value. That value is measured and laid out, creating an existence. By that existence, each life creates its own volume of human literature which others may read.

What a pity when that volume disappears from hands and eyes eager to treasure it still.

Next up: Chariots of Fire