Cinema Therapy — Charlyne Gelt, Ph.D.

Living

"Something amazing happens when we surrender and just love. We melt into another world, a realm of power already within us. The world changes when we change. The world softens when we soften. The world loves us when we choose to love the world."

— Marianne Williamson

Does the presence of death deepen our appreciation of life?

Death, procrastination, and change, are the themes in the 2022 film, Living, a British drama set in 1950s post WW II England, starring Bill Nighy, directed by Oliver Hermanus, and adapted from a screenplay by Kazuo Ishiguro.

In the film, Nighy portrays Mr. Williams, a stoic, repressed, dedicated civil servant, nick-named Mr. Zombie by his lively, younger generation co-workers. Williams methodically structures each work day by meeting his colleagues at the train station with his bowler hat and briefcase, then pushing paperwork all day from one stack to another, procrastinating on each proposal and never taking action.

Bowed down by the sheer weight of the bureaucracy, and unable to express feelings about anything other than the weather, Williams leads a grim existence, having abandoned life after the death of his wife two decades ago — unaware that his attachment to the pain of his loss is preventing him from living life in the present.

When Williams’ doctor informs him that he is very ill and that his death is imminent — he is given six months — it triggers a painful awareness that he hasn’t really lived life, and now he’s dying.

A Bureaucrat's Spiritual Transformation

At first, Williams plans his own death through suicide, but then, from the depths of his robotic existence, his gentlemanly soft-spoken soul is energized after one of his former co-workers, Margaret Harris (Aimee Lou Wood), asks him for a recommendation, and the two go for a walk. We see Williams’ true self and subtle humor begin to emerge, having been buried for so long under layers of the repression of his spirit. Margaret ignites his inner light and he softens, becomes compassionate and loving. Their friendship grows. He also begins to associate with an insomniac writer (Alex Sharp), and when they get drunk together in a bar, Williams surprises all when he sings a melancholic Scottish song called “The Rowan Tree,” a song about a man longing for the past. Williams ends the song in tears and it’s his moment of insight, which brings him to the decision to do something to salvage his wasted years to leave as a kind of legacy for future generations.

What Williams ends up doing is taking on the challenge of finally pushing past his office’s chronic bureaucratic procrastination and creating a modest playground for the children of the mothers who had been hammering his office with their plans for years, only to receive a no-go from the parks department. Williams determinedly finds a way around the roadblocks and, as a result, bonds with parents and is energized with this newfound sense of aliveness and purpose.

At his death, he has a reverie in which he sees himself sitting on the swing of the playground he created, reflecting on the warmth and connection to his own mother, waiting for her to call him into the house. He dies a contented, if not happily attached man.

Psychological Implications

Living encourages us to question whether facing and accepting our mortality can become a doorway to self-discovery. In the movie, we see that Williams’ (“Mr. Zombie”) true self died with his wife, resulting in decades of Institutionalized grief. Everything in his no-joy life has formed around that loss.  It’s only when he has to face a diagnosis of incurable cancer that he wakes up.

When he realizes that he has the power to stand up to the bureaucracy, and that he can actually get something done in the form of a small children’s playground, it changes the rest of what remains of his life. Accepting his own limitations and using his authority to help others to achieve their own purpose is deeply satisfying to his soul. In the end, he leaves a legacy of fullness for the child within who never seemed to really live.

The other big question the film raises for all of us is, “Do we have to get a death diagnosis in order to learn to live from a positive perspective?”  The answer is of course not! That is one of the subtle message of Living — it’s never too late, so start now. There are so many ways:

Awareness of the fact that we’re not living is obviously the first step. Then, there’s talking to someone who can offer suggestions, plus there’s meditation for insight; keeping a gratitude journal to focus on the positives rather than the negatives; nature walks to better appreciate the world we live in and get the physical activity we need; fulfilling our creative needs; and then maybe, like Williams in the movie, accomplishing something in our personal world that might make a difference, however small, to somebody else to help them achieve their “purpose.” And most important of all, as Williams discovered, is “attachment”— the magic of connecting with other people.

CG Jung states, “The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.” Indeed, Mr. Williams is transformed when he opens the door to surprising new relationships that give his time at the end of life meaning and purpose.

Charlyne Gelt, Ph.D. (PSY22909) is a clinical psychologist who practices in Encino. She leads Women's Empowerment Groups that help women learn the tools to move beyond self-destructive relationship patterns. She may be reached at 818.501.4123 or cgelt@earthlink.net. Her office address is 16055 Ventura Blvd. #1129 Encino, CA 91436.