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Going Home (Photo: Steve Allanson)
Going Home (Photo: Steve Allanson)

Pop CultureSeptember 20, 2020

In his life and death, my uncle taught me the real meaning of bravery

Going Home (Photo: Steve Allanson)
Going Home (Photo: Steve Allanson)

For her Loading Docs short Going Home, film-maker Ashley Williams paid tribute to her late uncle Clive by learning to fly.

Some people say I was brave to fly. I tell them my Uncle Clive was the one who had courage.

He was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer at the age of 50. He had no choice about dying. But he made a choice about how and when he wanted to die.

When I was funded by Loading Docs to make a personal documentary about Clive, I knew I had to challenge myself to do something adventurous, something he would do. He always loved to fly, so what better way to honour him than take to the sky myself and paraglide.

This year marks 10 years since he passed. I wanted to make a film that both honoured Clive’s memory for those who knew him, and shared his story with those who didn’t. In a year when New Zealanders are voting on the End of Life Choice Act, I believed the timing was right, and could offer insight to those that need it.

In preparation for the documentary, as well as the flight, I buried myself in my uncle’s legacy – as a photographer, an adventurer, a scientist and a spiritual seeker. I dug out his old photos and read the letters he wrote over his final year, letters that were integral to the making of this documentary. What struck me most was his courage in facing a terminal illness, dealing with his own loss, yet managing and helping others in their grieving too. Now that is brave.

Making this film I learnt a lot more than just whether or not I could fly. I discovered it’s not just about the big, bold moments when we are brave. It’s about things like kindness in the face of adversity, being able to laugh when things don’t go to plan, standing up for what you believe in and being honest with yourself and others.

Clive taught me that life is about the little adventures along the way. So much of life is out of our control – there will always be the possibility the wind direction might change. So for the days you can, you fly! And oh, how I flew. Up there, among the clouds, being a bird. I realised why I had to do this and it changed me forever.

It also helped me understand what it must have been like for Clive, to have been caged in his bed near the end, watching out his window as the wind blew the clouds across the sky. To have known it was a perfect day to fly, or just go for a walk, but not be able to. When you’re that close to dying, surely you must know a thing or two about living. Clive was always the wise one.

Through Clive’s life and his decision about how he died, when he had only days to live, I hope viewers will consider those who no longer have a choice about whether they die or not, who are asking for the right to die with dignity.

I also want to encourage everyone to read the Act before voting. It’s designed for those suffering from a terminal illness that is likely to end their life within six months, for those who have significant and ongoing decline in physical capability, who have unbearable suffering that cannot be eased, and who are able to make an informed decision about assisted dying. This law could bring real support for people who need it in their time of pain and suffering, and in doing so also provide support and care for those left behind.

My hope is that if I ever face terminal illness I can do it with as much courage and grace as my Uncle Clive. I also hope I’ll have a choice that affords me the dignity I deserve.

Going Home is part of the Loading Docs 2020 collection. Watch more at loadingdocs.net

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Sarah Paulson stars as Nurse Ratched in Ryan Murphy's bizarre prequel Netflix drama Ratched.
Sarah Paulson stars as Nurse Ratched in Ryan Murphy’s bizarre prequel Netflix drama Ratched. (Photo: Netflix)

Pop CultureSeptember 18, 2020

Review: Ratched is a hateful piece of misogynist garbage

Sarah Paulson stars as Nurse Ratched in Ryan Murphy's bizarre prequel Netflix drama Ratched.
Sarah Paulson stars as Nurse Ratched in Ryan Murphy’s bizarre prequel Netflix drama Ratched. (Photo: Netflix)

Netflix drama Ratched aims to rehabilitate the villain from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, but would do better in the electric chair.

Nurse Ratched is, quite rightly, one of the most famous movie villains of all time. The source of all of McMurphy’s despair and angst in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, written by Ken Kesey in the 50s but more famously adapted by Milos Forman in the 70s, she’s a one-woman representation of everything that’s wrong with the system, man. She’s also, by the author’s own admission, a hugely sexist creation. 

In the novel, Ratched is the very embodiment of everything that Kesey thinks is wrong with society: she’s rigid, she’s unfair, and she’s… a she. Louise Fletcher, in her famous turn in the film, did everything she could to strip out the sexism inherent in the script by playing Ratched as professional rather than cruel, but the core remains. It’s a fool’s errand to try to rehabilitate that character into something human and three-dimensional. But, for some reason, that’s what Netflix drama Ratched tries to do.

Ratched tries to Maleficent its way out of the cage that Kesey wrote for the nurse: it gives her a backstory. It’s a generally accepted principle that if we understand why bad people do the things they do we’ll empathise with them, or at the very least sympathise with them. In aid of that, the show aims to give us all the dimensions of Ratched before we saw her in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and throws us back to post-war America, to the character finding work at her first mental hospital, for reasons that become immediately, thuddingly, apparent. 

Sarah Paulson stars as Nurse Ratched in Ryan Murphy's bizarre prequel Netflix drama Ratched.
Ah, yes. That iconic Nurse Ratched outfit. (Photo: Netflix)

Or at least that’s what I’m sure the creators, gilded charlatan Ryan Murphy and newcomer Evan Romansky, think their show is doing. The final product (already renewed for a second season, bewilderingly) is more like fanfiction written by someone who skimmed a high school essay on One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest. It reimagines Ratched not as the embodiment of a corrupt system, but as a woman with a dark past who will do absolutely anything, up to and including murder, to get what she wants. The writers throw every cliche in the bag at the character – struggles with sexuality, a murderer’s row of fetishes, an eye-rolling omniscience – to lead us to an understanding of the character we saw behind the glass screen in that film nearly 50 years ago. Not only do we not understand that character, we barely understand the one onscreen. 

Once you take away the fanfiction trappings and all the bizarre homages/ripoffs of classic films (Cape Fear, Silence of the Lambs Written on the Wind), Ratched is business as usual for Murphy. It’s a colourful, expensive-looking show that puts overqualified actors in the same room together, hands them scripts that are more fit for a shredder than a performer, and expects the great reviews to roll in. Murphy had a resurgence with the success of American Horror Story, which turned to schlock after a few seasons, and then another with American Crime Story, which, in fairness, seems to be legitimately great. But Ratched, the second show of his lucrative Netflix deal, is his worst output yet. And yes, that includes The Politician.

My mood while watching this show.

Ryan Murphy’s work is easy to watch because you can turn your brain off. The acting is loud, the sets are gorgeous, and every time you get bored, there’s another ludicrous plot twist to lure you in. It’s a gamble that’s clearly worked for him, but it fails the television auteur badly here. His most obvious folly is his reliance on those great, loud actors. Murphy regular Sarah Paulson plays Ratched and is on paper a great choice for the role: she’s incredibly versatile, able to play off her soft affect to great results, most memorably in 12 Years a Slave. But the Ratched the show has corralled her into playing makes no sense. She’s stuck having to do a Louise Fletcher impression (surely the only time that’s ever been called for) when the show is actually asking her to play an all-knowing, manipulative femme fatale with, ironically for the character, a penchant for tearing down the system around her. It’s an impossible task and while she’s fun to watch in the moment, she never manages to actually make sense of anything.

The rest of the cast, who don’t have the burden of carrying the show on their discreetly placed shoulderpads, generally fare better. Judy Davis, who has been a one-woman abattoir for most of her career, is surprisingly subdued here as Nurse Bucket, Ratched’s superior at the hospital. Cynthia Nixon taps into the same level of pathos she brought to Emily Dickinson in A Quiet Passion, and single-handedly crafts the only emotional arc the show has onto its terminable eight episodes. Everybody else is a right old mixed bag though, from Finn Wittrock’s dead-eyed serial killer through to Sophie Okonedo’s take on a patient with dissociative identity disorder that would’ve been considered offensive when the source text was first written. Murphy owes them all apologies for what he’s given them, but I guess a pay cheque will have to suffice.

Ratched can’t get past the idea at its core: it’s a man’s misogynist fantasy. The problem is that Murphy and Romansky’s reimagination is no less misogynistic – it just comes from a different angle. Rather than being a thin metaphor for societal oppression, this Ratched is a collection of tired tropes and hacky cliches that add up to something even more hollow: yet another villain with backstory that tries to wave away every ludicrous thing we see. The problem isn’t necessarily that Murphy and Romansky don’t understand Nurse Ratched, there’s not a lot to get. The problem is they don’t even seem to understand the character they’re putting in front of us, and worse, don’t seem to care. Beautiful gowns, though.

You can watch Ratched on Netflix now.