Finally,
a high definition Blu-ray disk of Robert Redford’s 1980 masterpiece, Ordinary
People, has been released. To date, the film has existed on home video only
on VHS and DVD, and the new Paramount Presents edition is most welcome.
People
was
Redford’s directorial debut, and at the time audiences and critics expected it
to be good, but they didn’t count on it being that good. It took the
Best Picture prize at the Academy Awards, along with a trophy for Redford for
Direction, one for Alvin Sargent’s Adapted Screenplay (based on Judith Guest’s
wonderful novel), and a most deserved Supporting Actor Oscar for Timothy
Hutton. Granted, Hutton’s character, Conrad Jarrett, is really the protagonist,
i.e., the lead in the movie, so it’s one of those infuriating cases in
which an actor is nominated in the wrong category. (That said, there’s no way
Hutton would have won over Robert De Niro’s blistering once-in-a-lifetime
performance in Raging Bull, so the studio was smart to offer up Hutton
in the Supporting category, where he’d have a better than fighting chance.)
Mary
Tyler Moore also received a nomination for Best Actress, and Judd Hirsch a nod
for Supporting Actor (competing with Hutton). They are both brilliant, too.
Moore plays against type, portraying a woman with a cold heart who has
forgotten—or never knew—how to love, and Hirsch is the psychiatrist with whom
we all would want to spend two sessions a week. Missing from the Oscar awards
tally was Donald Sutherland, who, for this reviewer’s money, provides the
performance of his career. In many ways, he’s the center of the picture. We
slowly see that his stable assuredness is also cracking from the pretense going
in his family. Why Sutherland wasn’t at least nominated is a head-scratcher.
The
story is about a mid-to-upper class family living in the Chicago suburb of Lake
Forest. Everything should be as Beth Jarrett (Moore) believes it is—that their
family is happy and their world is perfect. “Neat and easy,” as her husband,
Calvin (Sutherland), describes how she keeps their lives. But under the
polished veneer, all is not well. Not one bit. The Jarretts recently
experienced a tragedy. The oldest son, Buck, drowned in a boating accident
while out on the water with his younger brother, Conrad (Hutton). Not long
afterwards, Conrad attempted suicide and ended up in a psychiatric hospital for
four months. Now he’s home, and Conrad is having a very difficult time
adjusting. He can’t relate the way he once did to his high school buddies. He
can’t feel as if he’s part of the school swim team, the way he could prior to
the incident. Worst of all, his relationship with his mother has deteriorated. Calvin
can see the conflict between them and does his best to play referee and
understanding father, but this only begins to drive a wedge between him and
Beth. It’s only after Conrad starts seeing a psychiatrist, Dr. Berger (Hirsch),
that the teenager embarks on an excruciating but necessary emotional journey
toward wellness.
The
script is an honest and canny depiction of how families bury truths and put up
facades. Redford’s direction is sensitively nuanced, and the acting all around
is impeccable. This is powerful stuff. Ordinary People also provides one
of the better positive depictions of psychiatry ever put on celluloid, and this
reviewer challenges anyone viewing the film not to have welling eyes during the
scene in which Dr. Berger tells Conrad, “I’m your friend.”
Beyond
the quartet of principle stars, Elizabeth McGovern is striking as a high school
romantic interest for Conrad, a young Adam Baldwin is effective as one of the
teen swim team pals, M. Emmet Walsh has a turn as the clueless swimming coach,
and Dinah Manoff has a short but significant scene as a fellow hospital
patient, now out in the real world like Conrad.
But
the movie belongs to Timothy Hutton. Ordinary People was his first
feature film (he had made only one television movie earlier in the year, and
appeared uncredited, briefly, as a child in a picture in the 1960s.) His Conrad
is a virtuoso piece of acting.
The
Paramount Presents feature is remastered from a new 4K film transfer overseen
by Redford, and it looks crisp and colorful. The only supplements are two new,
short featurettes with interviews with Hutton and author Judith Guest, plus the
theatrical trailer.
Ordinary
People merited
every honor it received. It is an emotional roller-coaster that elevates the
Hollywood family drama to an unprecedented high. Enthusiastically recommended.
Some
personal observations and opinions here. There have been critics over the years
(Siskel and Ebert, for example) who have claimed that Ordinary People “stole”
the Oscar from Raging Bull, which is often cited not only as the “best”
movie of 1980, but of the entire 1980s decade.
I
love Raging Bull and consider it a magnificent example of bravura
filmmaking from Martin Scorsese. It’s slick, gorgeously shot in black and
white, brilliantly edited (by Oscar winner Thelma Schoonmaker), and it contains
not only powerhouse performances by Joe Pesci and Cathy Moriarty in supporting
roles, but the crowning screen appearance of Robert De Niro’s career. There is
no question that De Niro’s Jake LaMotta is one of the most accomplished acting
displays ever.
Yes,
Raging Bull is a great film… and I also find it unpleasant as hell. The
brutality is visceral, and of course, that’s the point. It’s about a man who can’t
control his rage. I may love the film, but I can’t say I enjoy it,
if that makes any sense.
Ordinary
People
is not a happy story, either—that’s true. While it’s without physical violence,
it is an emotionally violent tale; but it is so elegantly rendered with
intelligence and, yes, beauty, that I, personally, am always movedby
it. For me, it tugs at the heartstrings and the tear ducts. And while the fate
of the tale’s family is a tragedy, there is the hint of hope at the end that
all will be well for young Conrad Jarrett. I adore Ordinary People more
every time I see it.
Ordinary People deserved the Oscar for Best Picture in 1980.