My friend and I recently attended a church service as the guests of a
couple in a small group Bible study we’d been attending. The study was
on Rick Warren’s The Purpose-Driven Life, and the church had
integrated the study into its services. The week we went, the topic was
evangelism, and the sermon concerned reaching out to others outside the
Christian community and sharing your faith with them. It concluded with
the final scene in About Schmidt, a film I had been wanting to
see but still hadn’t yet. Although the scene did not so much illustrate
the importance of evangelism, it did demonstrate how the human need for a
feeling of purpose is best fulfilled by an assurance that our lives
have made a difference to someone else, even if it is just one person. A
few days ago, my friend and I watched the movie together, and while
much of it was rather dreary and depressing, I ultimately found the film
very moving.
This is the movie that afforded us all those
glamorous shots of Jack Nicholson looking like something the cat dragged
in and promptly ran away from. He’s looking awfully rough here, and
with good reason. Warren Schmidt (Nicholson) is a man doomed to the
realization that he is 66 years old with nothing to show for it. He
retires from a lifelong job at an insurance company, placated by the
platitudes heaped on him by a longtime coworker and the young man
replacing him. But when he accepts the upstart’s invitation to return to
the office and give him a few pointers, he receives the royal brush-off
and spies his life’s work sitting in boxes on the curb for the trash
man to pick up. He’d looked forward to a cozy retirement with his wife,
Helen, traveling around the country in their cushy mobile home, but now
that he’s home with her all the time he finds all of her idiosyncrasies
intolerable. When Helen (June Squibb) dies suddenly, his marital apathy
leaves him with a load of guilt that is only eased when he discovers
that years ago, she had an affair with the friend who so eloquently
toasted him at the retirement banquet.
So begins a quest of
self-discovery that will last throughout the course of the movie.
Feeling betrayed, rejected and useless, Warren embarks on a road trip,
revisiting the sites of his early life and hoping to rekindle some
forgotten memories. But everywhere he goes, it seems life has gone on
with no record of his existence. He feels utterly obsolete. Even his
beloved daughter, Jeannie (Hope Davis), about to be wed to a waterbed
salesman, Randall (Dermott Mulroney), of whom Warren disapproves,
rejects him, and Warren must sit idly by and watch as his daughter
marries into an oddball family and out of her father’s life.
Everything in the film points to the emptiness that consumes Warren. The
sparse score adds to film’s overall mood of uneasy quietude. Warren
himself is largely silent. He appears to be passive-aggressive, always
careful not to ruffle any feathers but inwardly seething about the
unfairness of his life. This isn’t to say that he is a wholly admirable
character. He is very self-centered and used to being taken care of. He
doesn’t have the nasty streak displayed by many of Nicholson’s
characters, but he also lacks Nicholson’s abundant charm. He’s a hollow
man who only truly opens up and allows himself his full range of
emotions in his letters to Ndugu, a young African boy he decides to
sponsor. Along with 22 dollars a week, he sends the child poignant
reflections and virulent rants that the audience hears in voiceover
while observing Warren’s activities.
Nicholson is fantastic as
the disenfranchised Warren, a decent everyman who feels his life is
devoid of meaning. He truly carries the film. Although it is clear
Warren despises Randall, I thought Mulroney made the character very
likable. A bit of a do-nothing, perhaps, but a very nice guy who loves
Warren’s daughter and is always pleasant to Warren in spite of the
latter’s thinly veiled hostility. Davis, meanwhile, seemed to go out of
her way to make Jeannie unlikable, perhaps to emphasize Warren’s shaky
grasp of reality. His sweet little girl is gone, never to return as far
as we can tell. Also worth note is Kathy Bates as Roberta, Randall’s
libidinous mother, whose much-ballyhooed hot tub encounter with Warren
is brief but uncomfortably hilarious. Howard Hesseman, meanwhile,
provides humor as Randall’s easy-going, speech-making father, Larry.
But perhaps the real star of the movie is the one who never appears at
all, the unseen foil to Warren’s tortured soul. Somewhere on the other
side of the world is a little boy named Ndugu who can’t read but
understands that Warren Schmidt cares enough to send him money and write
him letters. Warren lives a privileged life that is full of
disappointments; Ndugu is an orphan who resides in a state of poverty
but feels rich because his life has been touched by this hollow man. About Schmidt is a sad movie about a broken man, but perhaps this one-sided correspondence is just enough to help Warren’s emptiness heal.
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