ohbloodyhell8

I don’t know what we’d have for lunch, but truly I don’t think I would have time to eat. So John could pick the restaurant. As long as it has something chocolate. And sweet tea. And actually, it would be great if there was a way I could smoke too, but then we’d have to use the HTTM to go back to the 80s.

I went into the movie on faith alone that John Cusack would deliver one of his fabulous performances. I like the Beach Boys, I like Wilson Phillips, but didn’t know a lot about them. Learned a little during W-P heydey because the publicity talked a bit about the rough relationship with their dad and I assumed drugs. So truly I thought Love & Mercy would be about Brian Wilson’s rehab and yada yada yada.

1:36:00-1:36:35. If you watch no other part of this movie, cue up these 35 seconds. That’s me up on the screen. No, I’m not a tenor from a beloved American band. But that is me. I know Brian lived it and he and I could have several lunches together comparing notes. Mr. Cusack nailed it. Without bullshit around it, without sensationalizing it, just being there in that moment when you are finally tired enough to trust someone with the words, “I hear voices.”

And as immediately as the words pass over your lips, the look of anticipation expecting the person you breathed the words to to laugh, walk away, call you crazy without realizing that you are trying to express that very sentiment in a very real way. Then from 1:36:36-1:36:49, Melinda says, “lets go” and Brian says, “I don’t know how.” I wish I could explain how true that was and how well it was delivered. You forget how to do things on your own. I was lucky my psychiatrist was amazing. Dr. O was incredible at cognitive behavioral therapy. Yes, there were meds and yes, they make you fall asleep, feel nauseous, and basically numb, not really alive but rather simply functioning. But you really don’t know how. You have to relearn everything.

I couldn’t make even the simplest decisions. What to wear, what to eat, which way to walk to classes. And Paul Dano at the table with the cacophony of noises. Dear God, make it stop. That still affects me today, noises that I can’t control that become all too loud, deafening, and never-ending. The fixation Dano had throughout the “past” scenes. The exhaustion and complacency Cusack had in the “future” scenes, worn down by decades of living with it.

As I believe I have written before, I was lucky, I got treatment after only seven years from onset. I cannot fathom decades without treatment. I have permanent re-wiring from just the seven years, and a few minor episodes since initial treatment, and I can only imagine the amount of compensation Mr. Wilson has to do every day. I had long-term side effects from my meds. Some went away once I got off of them, like the glaucoma, but the neuropathy in my hands and feet is here to stay. I no longer notice the tardive dyskinesia, it’s been there that long. Again, I can only imagine the side-effects Mr. Wilson contends with on a daily basis.

Oh my lanta, the withdrawal he must have gone through when he finally got out from under Landy’s control. I am so glad they did not show that because it had to be wicked and painful and long. And I am happy Landy got what he deserved. That wasn’t vengeance, that was justice and protecting others from his disgusting behavior.

The auditory hallucinations were portrayed in an incredibly authentic way and the speech patterns for both past and future had just enough of the “classic” schizophrenic speech. Side note-my theory on the speech, from a sample size of one, so not very scientific, is that I was just trying to keep up with the voices and the people around me. The style of the film resonated as true too. I have snippets of my youth, scenes, and I can flashback to them quite vividly, almost on command. But a perfect timeline does not exist.

I read in a comment or a review somewhere that the movie moved a little too slow. Then that person is either lucky enough to never have lived with mental illness or is living with it still and had to distance himself. Time moves so differently when you’re in an episode. Not just for the person, but for those living or working with him. You try to keep up with real time, but you’re not sleeping, eating, or thinking properly. It’s harder than it seems.

Obviously I didn’t see this in the theaters, but at home courtesy of Redbox and thank goodness. I hate having a runny, snotty nose with big tears running down my face in public, even in a dark movie theater. Plus I had to pause it a few times to compose myself. Any movie that can evoke emotion is one that I love and this one goes way up to the top of my list. I saw myself, a true, real, believable portrayal of me, on screen. Thank you, John Cusack, Paul Dano, and, most importantly, Brian Wilson for sharing your story.

And yes, peeps of my generation, I would thank John for some choice earlier roles, showing us that not all guys were going to be dicks, but that some would actually treat a lady nicely. And of course, 1408. And Grosse Pointe Blank. I’m no idiot.

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