Or if you’re like me, it’s more like 80/20. I make no apologies.
The summer of 2009 gave us a truly awful film, My Sister’s Keeper, one of the most manipulative and false cancer representations in living memory. In it, the youngest daughter is dying of leukemia and her elder sister is suing for the right for her to die in peace. Many things bothered me about the film, Alec Baldwin’s unnecessary epilepsy, Cameron Diaz’ fake head-shave, every single scene milked dry for tear-inducement. The worst part, however, was the plot. When a young person is dying, that is the plot of your movie; couching it in a context of personal freedom embarrasses us all. 50/50 is the correct response to My Sister’s Keeper. I wish my words could do 1/10th of what this film accomplished.
50/50 refers to the survival rate for victims of the type of spinal cancer Adam (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) has. The technical name of the cancer is Schwannoma Neurofibrosarcoma, that’s a mouthful, huh? Fellow chemo bunkmates Mitch (Matt Frewer) and Alan (Philip Baker Hall) both shudder in unison. When Adam asks what’s up? Alan offers, “The more syllables, the worse it is.” Then they all share marijuana macaroons and we get a music interlude similar to JGL’s post-coital romp in (500) Days of Summer. Except here, there’s nothing to celebrate and, in his daze, he laughs out loud at a patient being wheeled into surgery. It’s funny and painful as it ought to be. Life is replete with black humor when your life is artificially (or in this case, naturally) shortened.
You needn’t embellish cancer. 50/50 knows that. It’s a moment movie. Small things happen. Adam’s life slowly disintegrating around him perfectly mirrors his body disintegrating from within. He loses his girlfriend Rachael (Bryce Dallas Howard); he has to redevelop his relationship with an overbearing mother (Anjelica Huston) and his best, and only, friend Kyle (Seth Rogen, best role since Knocked Up) is constantly on the lookout for how to finesse Adam’s tragedy into getting laid. How would you like it if you were dying and Seth Rogen was your crutch? Life is replete, indeed. Add to this the small but bitter problem that Adam doesn’t drive. This sucks because Adam lives miles from the chemo ward lives in a big city lives in the United States exists on the planet Earth. What’s more pathetic than a chemo patient at a bus stop? A chemo patient at a bus stop because his girlfriend forgot to pick him up.
The best relationship in the film is between Adam and his hospital–assigned therapist Katherine (Anna Kendrick). Normally I can’t stand it when roles are out-of-place age-wise. It totally works here. Adam meets the 24-year-old (soon-to-be) doctor and grills her on her experience. He’s uncomfortable with how she touches him. She’s defensive but sticks to her training; he isn’t exactly a textbook case, either. He doesn’t know how to be a cancer patient, she doesn’t know how to be his therapist; they’re perfect for one another.
There are a few things that bothered me about 50/50. I won’t go into them, but simply say they kept this from being, possibly, my favorite film of 2011. A must see for those who don’t shy from emotion. C’mon, give this movie half a chance, why doncha? Sorry. Reviewer humor.
Rated R, 100 Minutes
D: Jonathan Levine
W: Will Reiser
Genre: Tear inducing
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Have you got a heart?
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Escapists
