Movies have become a powerful myth-making medium for our age. Numerous films depict people struggling with issues that arise in the transition from a prescribed existence to finding a life that is in accord with one’s deepest calling.
A recent film, The Family Man, poignantly examines the path not taken. The main character, Jack Campbell (played by Nicholas Cage), gets a glimpse of what his life might have been had he chosen love ahead of money and material success. On the surface Jack seems happy enough, leading a busy, if unexamined, life.
As the story opens it is Christmas Eve. Jack, as usual, has been working late to close a business deal. He decides to leave his grey Ferrari in the parking garage and walk home in the freshly fallen snow. On the way home, stopping for a quart of eggnog at a city grocery, he is pulled into a frightening confrontation: When the grocer refuses to honor the $230 prize on a suspicious-looking lottery ticket, a stranger pulls out a gun and threatens to kill the store clerk. True to his character, Jack seeks to defuse the volatile situation by offering the stranger $200 for his ticket. “It’s just a business deal. You take the money and I’ll turn the ticket in at another store; you get your money while I make an easy $30; it’s just business,” Jack says.
The stranger accepts the money, and the two walk out together into the night. Jack then attempts to steer the man away from a life of crime, suggesting rehabilitation.
“You’re trying to save me? What about you?” the stranger asks.
“I have everything I need,” Jack smugly tells the man, who we gradually learn is an angelic figure that has come to earth to give Jack a glimpse of what he has missed in life.
Jack is not an Ebenezer Scrooge in need of redemption. He essentially is a good guy whose life is going exceedingly well. But Jack passed up an incredible woman, his college girlfriend Kate, many years earlier, to pursue his career. What if he had chosen a life with Kate instead of stepping on a jet bound for a lucrative new job on another continent?
This is a conundrum faced by many people at midlife: How do we cope with our unlived life?
On Christmas morning Jack awakes, thinking he is still in his own bed, but quickly discovers there is a blonde woman lying next to him; she turns out to be his long lost girlfriend Kate. Through some cosmic quirk Jack has awakened in a suburban New Jersey bedroom with a wife he never married and two kids he never had.
“I’m not a dad, I don’t have a wife!” he insists. Dumbstruck, Jack looks in the driveway for his sports car, thinking he must have been drunk the night before and perhaps met Kate at a party, but soon discovers that he can’t find his way out of this bad dream. Over the course of the film, we see Jack discovering various slender threads that came together as a result of that fateful decision in his youth to leave Kate. In this parallel universe Jack has turned down the job in high finance and instead taken over a retail tire business owned by Kate’s ailing father. In this unlived life he shops at the mall on weekends, eats funnel cakes, and changes smelly diapers on his infant son.
Kate, a wonderful symbol of the inner feminine ideal, or anima, which resides in every man, serves as a guide, showing him his feeling side as well as the beauty and joy of ordinary domestic life.
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American Beauty, a quirky, dark, and ironic film opens with the antihero, Lester Burnham, telling us that soon he will die. “In a way, I’m dead already,” Lester laments. “Look at me, jerking off in the shower. This is the highlight of my day. It’s all downhill from here.” American Beauty tells the story of a middle-aged man who is imprisoned in a cell of his own making; throughout the first half of the film, visually he seems to be constantly behind bars - in the shower, in his bed, at his nondescript work cubicle.
Lester’s is a contemporary suburban American tragedy; he is drifting through the prescribed trappings of success, yet at the age of 42 Lester is a man without passion, self-respect or hope. His wife, a driven real estate saleswoman, rules the household. “Both my wife and daughter think I’m this gigantic loser. And they’re right,” Lester says. “I have lost something. I’m not exactly sure what it is. But I didn’t always feel this sedated.”
Lester, played by Kevin Spacey, gradually awakens from his unconscious stupor after an even more dysfunctional family moves in next door, headed by retired Marine Colonel Frank Fitts. Fitts stamps out any signs of spontaneity in himself and his family through discipline and rageful force. A collector of Nazi memorabilia, he projects his unlived life on the “other” wherever he sees it, ranting about liberals, homosexuals, and “other weaklings.”
This is one response to the dangerous opportunity of midlife – to brutally suppress any possibilities for change and rigidly follow a set of prescribed rules for living. To let in any ambiguity creates intolerable anxiety for him. We see this response today in many varieties of fundamentalism. The tension of oppositions is too much to bear, and so right and wrong must be sharply demarcated; “evil” is projected upon others and vilified. Married to this man, Mrs. Fitts drops into a deep, almost catatonic depression, another known option for dealing with unlived life.
It is the couple’s teenage son, Ricky, who provides a catalyst for change. A mysterious, vulnerable youth, he has learned to slip under Col. Fitts’ radar. Surrounded by an adult world of cynical compromise, Ricky sells drugs for income, but his passion is creating home movies. He finds beauty in the most unexpected places, such as a discarded plastic bag pirouetting among leaves in the winter wind. Ricky seems to use his video camera to remember things, but when it zooms in on the most mundane and ordinary of subjects he – and we, the audience – are given the opportunity to look again. The film repeats this theme – look again, past the surface, and you will find the miraculous in the ordinary.
In his quiet, poetic way, Ricky explains: “Yesterday I realized there was this entire life behind things. And this incredibly benevolent force wanted me to know that there was no reason to be afraid … ever. Sometimes there is so much beauty in the world, it feels like my heart is just going to cave in.”
Are you leading the life you were meant to lead? Is it too late to change course? We discuss healthy ways to explore paths not taken in our book Living Your Unlived Life. Think of other movies about unlived life: The Big Chill, About Schmidt, Baby Boom, Groundhog Day, Defending Your Life, Brokeback Mountain, The Accidental Tourist, or the Frank Capra classic It's A Wonderful Life. Also revisit Francois Truffaut's Fahrenheit 451, a work with extraordinary relevance today, with our culture of narcissm, bureaucratic doublespeak, "reality" television, and mind-dulling anti-intellectual fundamentalism. Julie Christie plays both the anima-like character who draws Montag into life as well as the Stepford wife who dulls depression with drugs and is hypnotized by the forerunner of big screen television and home theater. "Men and books," Truffaut said, "can be burned, but what cannot be burned are ideas." Which modern myths are you living (and which are living you)?