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I should start this review by telling you that I have a strong dislike towards Terms of Endearment. I consider it to be one of the worst films to earn the Best Picture Oscar. It's been several years since I last saw it, but "shrill, forced and manipulative" comes to mind when I try to remember my impression of it. Two years ago, I felt the same way about My Sister's Keeper, which was a syrupy tearjerker to the max. But because of the Oscar glory it enjoyed, Terms of Endearment probably serves as the frame of reference for people when it comes to "cancer movies," so it's no suprise that, at one point during 50/50, a character mentions the 1983 Oscar winner. Obligatory as the mention may be, there's no sense in comparing the two films, because the delightful and heartfelt 50/50 is devoid of all the manipulation and nauseating schmaltz that has characterized dozens upon dozens of "cancer movies," including the ridiculously overrated Terms of Endearment. It may be because it's inspired by a true story, or because the filmmakers here manage the incredibly tough task of balancing comedy and heartbreak so perfectly, or it may be because of both of those reasons, but 50/50 offers a refreshing reprieve from the tearjerking falsity that characterizes most "cancer movies."
Adam (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is a 27-year-old who seems to be doing everything he needs to do to lead a nice, comforting life. He's really amiable. He exercises in the morning. His girlfriend Rachael (Bryce Dallas Howard) has moved in to live with him. He has fun hanging out and getting coffee with his friend, Kyle (Seth Rogen), who is more extroverted, and therefore, he brings out Adam's more extroverted side as well. In fact, the only thing currently wrong with him is a backache, and since Adam is so good about taking care of himself, he goes to the doctor to get it checked out. Much to his devastation, though, the diagnosis is bad news: Adam has a large tumor in his spine. A google search reveals that someone with this type of cancer has a 50% chance of survival. He decides to reveal the situation to his mother, Diane (Angelica Huston), who reacts exactly the way my mother would in this situation: alarmed and emotionally devastated, yet quick to take action, rather than wallow in mawkwish melodrama (you know, like all those other "mothers" in cancer movies). As part of coping with his treatment, Adam goes to see a therapist, who turns out to be much younger and appealing than Adam would've expected - it's Katherine (Anna Kendrick), who is THIS close to getting her doctorate. Adam is only her third patient, as she's still in training, which means Katherine is basically just as apprehensive about this as Adam is, as much as she may not want to show it. As you may expect, these therapy sessions are permeated by awkwardness (of both the funny and serious variety) and by the inevitable potential for something more than a mere therapist-patient relationship to start brewing here.
If I hadn't yet seen 50/50 and I had read the above plot description, I would've probably rolled my eyes at all the cliche alerts that are scattered in that paragraph. And if you've read my reviews, you may have gotten the impression that I'm quick to be dismissive of cliched material, but that's not entirely true. It's all about what is DONE with the cliches. The problem is that cliches are generally handled poorly, and they stick out like sore thumbs. In order to avoid the possibility of something feeling too conventional, all a film has to do is ensure that the event feels ORGANIC to the film, rather than like something one has seen countless of times. 50/50 does a terrific job at that, and it's even more admirable because of the tough tightrope it has to walk. The film is about the usage of humor as a healing agent, which means that, at any point during the running time, there could've been a disastrous collision between the comedy and the difficult subject matter, and everything would've come crashing down. This film could've been tonally awkward as hell, but that rarely registers throughout the running time (save perhaps for the scene in which the doctor reveals the disease to Adam - the amount of indifference that the doctor displays is too exaggerated, even if the film is making an accurate point about how impersonal physicians can be).
There's a sequence of scenes in which one character catches another character in an act of deception, and so, the first character goes ahead and decides to expose what the other character did. The scene in which this takes place is brilliant, because the "Ha! I caught you!" aspect of it is handled hilariously (it's one of the scenes in which Seth Rogen's comedic chops are milked to terrific effect). But the other reason why the scene is so great is that it also knows when to have Rogen's character step aside and go off screen, so that the more painful dialogue that needs to take place can happen without there being a confounding collision between comedy and drama. As the film's final act gets underway, there's a moment that seemed on the verge of making the film go way over the top, but once again, 50/50's sense of restraint saves it from that. It's that typical moment you've seen before in which the main character reaches a breaking point and can't handle the frustration anymore and decides that he might as well do something life-threateningly stupid. You've seen the scene before: the frustrated character gets in a car, and decides "fuck it," and starts driving at 120 miles per hour, not caring about the fact that a close friend is sitting in the passenger's seat, because he's no longer thinking straight enough to care about anything. These scenes are generally ridiculous and cringe-inducing in other films, but that isn't the case in 50/50, because it handles it much more authentically: the reckless act lasts all of five seconds, which is exactly as long as it would last if somebody in real life experienced similar temporary derangement. And it's understandable to have a bitter taste left in one's mouth after a scene like this, which is why 50/50 has the good sense to punctuate it with a really sweet and heartfelt telephone conversation, in order to wash that away. I'm not the type to say "Awwww" very often, but when the line "I bet you'd be a good one" was delivered, I had a hard time holding it back.
The therapy scenes between Adam and Katherine probably won't work for some audience members. They'll be turned off immediately by the awfully convenient fact that Adam is being counseled by an attractive girl who is even younger than him, and perhaps they won't take well to the fidgety way in which their conversations unfold. I loved the scenes, but for very personal reasons. First of all, I believe that, in keeping with its great ability at sustaining a healthy balance, the film does a good job of not allowing the romantic tension to get in the way of the most important issue, which is Adam's musings on how he feels and on how he's handling the situation. The potential for romance doesn't really come up until much later, when it actually feels right. But more importantly, the scenes worked for me because, aside from sympathizing with Adam (which is inevitable), I was able to relate to Katherine very strongly. She's on the verge of finishing a difficult academic career, and therefore, she's training for the real thing, and that's causing her a lot of stress. She's very tentative and insecure when giving advice to Adam and when trying to come up with solutions for him. I loved her tentativeness and her insecurity because I know exactly what she's going through. So, while some people may only sympathize with Adam's situation and not be thrilled with the other aspects of the therapy scenes, I have to admit that I ate them up, because I was deeply engrossed in the situation faced by both characters. Watching them speak to each other was an absolute delight, and it didn't ring false for a second, despite how easily that could've happened. Sure, it gets a little bit more contrived once their relationship moves outside of the confines of the hospital and Katherine makes an all-too-convenient decision to drive Adam home, but by that point, we're sufficiently interested in the dynamic that these two have going on that we can overlook the problem and keep moving forward with them.
Then again, I shouldn't be thanking only the filmmakers for how well those scenes worked for me. Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Anna Kendrick's performances are stupendous. The former actor will inevitably earn more praise because he has more difficult material to deal with, but if we were assigning performance grades here, both would deserve an A+. Gordon-Levitt continues to exude an uncanny ability to shift effortlessly from one emotion to another, while making it all feel seamless; he plays a character who continuously tries to take his situation in stride and find humor in what is happening to him, but the transition he makes towards the end when the frustration is too much is played out perfectly. He's started to achieve mainstream fame recently (because of Inception, which isn't really the best movie to see him in first), but anyone who has seen Mysterious Skin and Brick has been well aware of his supreme talent for years now. For the second time in a row (the first time being her work in Up in the Air), Kendrick plays a character that I can relate to on several levels. The fact that she plays it with such a refreshing amount of zest and energy, and that she can still display apprehension as well as she does, just makes it even better. As for the other actors, Seth Rogen predictably adds a great amount of comedic flavor to the proceedings, while still keeping his poise during the movie's heart-breaking moments. The only flaw regarding his performance is the same one he's had in past performances (particularly Pineapple Express and The Green Hornet), and that's when he tries to be forceful and funny at the same time, such as during his line delivery when he takes Adam aside and tells him "Dude, come on, we have a chance to fuck these girls tonight!". I normally hate Bryce Dallas Howard's performances, though she fares reasonably well here. Then again, since 50/50 is so good about never going overboard in terms of ANYTHING, the film only features just the right amount of her (we don't see as much of her after a certain point in the film). Oh, and it's an absolute pleasure to see Phillip Baker Hall in the type of supporting role that he always plays so fantastically well.
**SPOILERS BELOW**
Terms of Endearment and My Sister's Keeper both ended tragically, but their tragic endings existed exclusively for the manipulative purpose of eliciting tears and deceiving people into thinking they watched something emotionally nuanced. I'd rather watch something that feels more genuine and affecting, regardless of whether a character dies at the end or not. Any filmmaker can have a character die - you just put it in the script and then shoot it. It's easy. What's not easy is to make the journey towards the character's fate resonate emotionally with audiences. The marvelous thing about 50/50 is that the protagonist's survival isn't treated as a way to give the film one of those ultra-triumphant happy endings in which everyone jumps into each other arms' at the end. In fact, in keeping with its approach of exposing the healing effect of humor, the post-survival scenes focus a lot on the fact that Adam is still high from the anesthesia, which leads to plenty of hilarity. The film's final scene is reminiscent of the ending of Adventureland, even if it isn't quite as flawlessly played. It's one of those endings that's more interested in displaying a potential for happiness, rather than just feeding us a full-on happy ending with a prolonged kiss and a zoom-out. Once again, that's a testament to 50/50's great sense of restraint. For its ability to be funny and heart-breaking without ever confusing the two, and for the greatness of the work done by both Gordon-Levitt and Kendrick, 50/50 is easily an early frontrunner for my favorite dramedy of the year.
7/10
