(Seriously though. 28 days to overhaul your life? Or to escape the zombie apocalypse? It just feels like we'd need a bit more time...)
My mom emailed me last night and asked for some advice - did I think it was a good idea for her to take my dad out to see the new movie Robot & Frank? For those of you not aware of the title (and it IS such a good title, too) here's a short synopsis:
In the near and believable future, Frank (Frank Langella) is a retired jewel thief, who lives alone but is cared for by his son (James Marsden) and checked on via videophone by his daughter (Liv Tyler). Frank leads a simple life, walking into town to visit the soon-to-be-closed library and the beautiful librarian (Susan Sarandon), picking up food at the market, shoplifting small objects from a foo-foo beauty store that used to house his favorite restaurant. Frank’s son decides that what Frank needs is a robot care-taker (voiced by Peter Sarsgaard), to help him around the house and keep an eye on him. Robot soon sets cranky Frank to rights, with an orderly schedule and a proper diet and exercise. Frank grows accustomed to Robot and soon begins to train the robot to assist him in a heist or two, targeting a wealthy, uppity young man (Jeremy Strong) who seeks to change the library into some kind of creative “space.” When Frank comes under suspicion for the duo’s crimes, Frank’s family and the law (Jeremy Sisto) are bewildered and it quickly becomes man and robot against the modern world.
Sounds pretty funny right? Who doesn't like a film about crotchety old people and robots? What this synopsis leaves out though, is the fact that Frank needs a robot caretaker because he is in the early stages of dementia....and there the problem lies.
I'm still not 100% sure what I think, having not seen the movie myself. Can you take someone with dementia to a dramedy ABOUT dementia? Is that just cruel? Does it matter, if he won't remember it in a few hours? Or are we allowed to laugh?
It's rarely easy to see the humor in my father's illness, but from time to time it does come through. I remember him waking up from yet another surgery in the hospital, and being really concerned about "the guy with the cat food." In the moment, his outbursts are usually very uncomfortable, but for some reason this time it was all right to laugh, because we'd already spent so much time on the verge of tears. "It's ok." Brother reassured Dad "We'll take care of the cat food." And that was that.
I've read so much about comedy - where does it come from, why do we react to certain things and not others, etc. It's a really fascinating topic. A theme that has repeatedly presented itself is the idea of finding humor in tragedy. We need a coping mechanism. So we have to laugh...at something. Not at those who are ill, of course (I do have a heart in there somewhere) but if we just live in the illness all the time...we lose something. It's like a light goes out. But how can we laugh at dementia? It's difficult, near impossible subject to approach with any sensitivity. Losing your mind is nothing short of terrifying - how can we laugh at it? But then again, if we don't laugh, then we just accept forthcoming doom with a morose face? Where is the line, I wonder. How can we relieve ourselves of some of the pressure, yet not come across as cruel or mocking?
A really interesting blog, silverevolution.com made this statement in their review of Robot & Frank that I felt was worth a read.
Robot & Frank is about more than the vanishing mind. It is about the person Frank was, is and always will be, and how dementia is just a part of that. It is also about the stress that an aging and vulnerable parent puts on children, especially in the US, who live far away and have their own families or geographically distant careers. In this way it touches on the way Americans in particular are dealing with dementia
But I was impressed with how the screenplay and the movie treated the tangled issues of dementia, aging, and family tension and made it fun and funny. Like anyone with dementia, Frank never stops surprising everyone, even the robot, who he reminds that “the human brain, it’s a lovely piece of hardware.”
Indeed.
