Dir. Lawrence Kasdan
Starring: Tom Berenger, Glenn
Close, Jeff Goldblum, William Hurt
The Big Chill is not a Philip Marlow film noir (that’s The Big
Sleep). It is not a music festival (well, it is, but that’s a different
Bill Chill). This Big Chill is a 1983
film by Lawrence Kasdan with a cast destined for big things that looks at the
inevitable pains of growing up and the loss of youthful idealism. It should be
enjoyed with a side-order of tunes by The Jam in my opinion, particularly Scrape Away (“What makes once-young minds get in this state? Is it age or just a
social comment?”) or Burning Sky (“We’ve all grown up and we’ve got our own
lives And the values that we had once upon a time Are so simple now ‘cos the
rent must be paid, And some bonds severed and others made”). Instead the
sound-track is chock-full of up-tempo ‘60s stompers like You Can’t Always Get What You Want and Wouldn’t it be Nice that cast a rueful ironic shadow over the
action.
In The Big Chill a group of former friends who met at the University
of Michigan in the ‘60s are brought back together by the suicide of one of
their number. After the funeral of Alex (an individual of whom we only see the
wrists and ankles… but those wrists and ankles belong to none other than Kevin
Costner, who was distraught to be cut from the final edit) they all stay for
the weekend at the house of married couple Harold and Sarah (Kevin Kline and
Glenn Close). For a number of them there is an element of trying to pick up
their relationships from a long time ago despite now being different people
with different problems and attitudes. By conventional standards they have all
done ‘well’, and yet they are unsatisfied. Harold and Sarah have two nice
homes; she is a doctor and he a businessman who is about to sell his chain of
26 stores to a larger rival. The spectre of Sarah’s affair with Alex haunts
them however. Michael (Jeff Goldblum) writes for People magazine but chafes under the magazine’s dumbed-down
editorial policy. Sam (Tom Berenger) is the star of the TV series J.T. Lancer (which appears to be a cross
between T.J. Hooker and Magnum, P.I.) but worries that he is not
taken seriously. Meg (Mary Kay Place) is a former defence lawyer who now earns
the big bucks as a real estate attorney but who is unhappily single and
desperate for a child. Karen (JoBeth Williams) has married well and has two
children but is bored by her stuffed-shirt husband. Nick (William Hurt) used to
be a successful radio psychiatrist, but has now dropped out; he is a regular
drug-taker who suffers from impotence as a result of his experiences in
Vietnam. In the ‘60s they were a rebellious generation. They have now become
exactly the sort of people that they used to rebel against (I’m not sure
whether it is a deliberate irony that Harold’s sports-shoe company is called Running Dog (as in the Maoist phrase ‘capitalist running dog’). The ‘chill’ of the title is what has
happened to them. As Meg says, “It’s a
cold world out there. Sometimes I feel like I’m getting a little frosty
myself.” The one person who does not harbour all this existential angst is
Alex’s young girlfriend Chloe (Meg Tilly) who is very much the odd one out in
this circle.
"Well I'm sorry, I thought you said you turned yourself into a pie..." |
Which leads on to the mystery of
why Alex killed himself. His friends rationalise that he was unhappy with the
way his life had gone. He drifted from job to job. They told him that he was
wasting his life, they hypothesise that he purposefully cut himself off from
them all because he was so unhappy about where he was. These are just some of
the protective rationalisations that Michael claims everybody needs to use to
help them get through the day. More likely is that they lost contact because
they were so busy playing The Game of
Life. “A long time ago”, Nick
tells Sam, “we knew each other for a
short period of time… It was easy back then. No one had a cushier berth than we
did. It’s not surprising our friendship could survive that. It’s only out there
in the real world that it gets tough.” Alex saw what they had become and
decided that the last thing in the world he wanted to be was like them. Notably
the forthcoming sale of Harold’s business would have left him, as a
shareholder, rich. As Mahatma Gandhi once said, Mo’ Money, Mo Problems. He was happy being an underachiever.
Probably the most honest and
truthful overview of the situation comes from Karen’s husband Richard (Don Galloway).
He is painted as a bit of a buffoon and a stuffed-shirt but he views the
situation with open eyes. He is prepared to put up with a boat-load of crap to
be able to provide as well as he can for his kids: “You set your priorities… But the thing is, no one ever said it would
be fun. At least, no one said it to me.” His philosophy is a simple one.
Maybe that comes from him being dull and not particularly insightful or deep.
His wife and her friends believed that they could have it all, that they could
make a better world. And now that they have betrayed their youthful idealism
they feel rotten.
The Big Chill is a good exploration of the mindset of a certain
group of people from a certain background at a certain stage in their lives. It
is not an infallible film. It is remarkable that so many of the same friendship
group have gone on to be so successful in their later lives. Looking at the
people I was friends with at university 13 years ago and who are now entering
their mid-thirties there is a degree of success but nothing quite so comparable
across the board. There is that same distance, that sensation of having drifted
apart, followed by everybody dropping back into the same roles and the same
conversations that were had at university. But we were never as open about
feelings for one another or about personal problems (such as Nick’s impotence).
There are one or two unlikely and unnecessary elements that have been thrown
in. Nick is a troubled Vietnam veteran in true Deer Hunter style and there is a quite implausible suggestion from
Sarah to resolves Meg’s problems. That being said, the characters are
believable and well-played, the premise is good, and the direction allows the
narrative to unfold at the perfect pace. The
Big Chill is not a film of which I had previously heard, but I can
understand its importance in being one of the first pieces to address
thirtysomething angst. This is a new spin on the famous H.L. Mencken definition
of Puritanism (‘the haunting fear that
someone, somewhere, may be happy’). Why aren’t they happy too?
What have I learnt about South
Carolina?
The landscape of South Carolina
seems pretty bleak – or maybe that was just the storyline. We see low
dun-coloured marshland coated with tussock grass, intercut with tidal creeks. And
it seems to rain. A lot. Despite this there are some grand nineteenth century
plantation-style houses. Harold and Sarah must be doing well to own one as just
a holiday home while they have their main house in Richmond, Virginia.
Can we go there?
The Big Chill was filmed in location in the coastal town of Beaufort (pronounced Bew-Furt), down
in the south-western portion of the state. Harold and Sarah’s house is actually
the Tidalholm Mansion on Laurens Street, and is a film star in its own right: it
was also the main location of 1979’s The
Great Santini. Nick and Harold jog down Bay Street in the middle of town. Sand Hill Baptist Church, just west of Varnville, was the scene of the funeral
service. After the service the funeral procession motors down Bay Street. The tall humped bridge they cross is the Cat Island Bridge, which links Beaufort and Port Royal.
Overall rating: 4/5
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