Chattahoochee

A veteran from the Korean war who managed to distinguish himself has trouble fitting in back home (Gary Oldman as Emmett Foley), and after having grown tired of picket fence pastimes, tries to get the police to shoot him for the insurance money.

He winds up in a psychiatric institution and finds he's in for the long haul, a distressing situation to say the least since he really isn't that insane.

His coherent reflexes help him observe the unfortunate general corruption, the cruel and unnecessary punishment routinely handed out by the sadistic administration.

He keeps track of the abuse in writing and eventually even studies introductory law, learning enough to air legitimate grievances which are generally ignored by unsympathetic staff.

Meanwhile, as the years pass by, his child ages and his wife (Frances McDormand as Mae Foley) seeks divorce, his sister (Pamela Reed as Earlene) never giving up on him, but somewhat perplexed by the daunting legal fees.

Consistent protest within the facility leads to frequent confrontation, irate guards and frustrated staff with no inclinations to change the management.

It's an old school animate take on social justice and institutional reform, the assertion of rights by those left behind by a system thoroughly unconcerned with how to take care of them.

You get to see Oldman and McDormand in their youth delivering exceptional performances, even if Chattahoochee has issues, you can see why these actors made a go of it (didn't they win best actor and actress in the same year? [2018]).

The thought of being generally sane and finding yourself locked down by bureaucratic codes, is aggravated by the reality that so many others who lack rationality can do exceptionally little to freely defend themselves.

Fortunately, Foley's work prevails and over a hundred reforms are introduced, and he's eventually released a free person to passionately deal with middle-aged life.

I imagine things have remarkably improved since Foucault wrote Madness & Civilization, in some jurisdictions anyways, which hopefully aren't suffering from stringent cutbacks.

It seems that caring for the sick goes without saying and there should be principled professionals who proceed accordingly.

Too bad stories like Chattahoochee still emerge.

Laws should prevent sadistic reckoning.

*There's no secret meaning here, no underlying code. This film was released in 1989 and I'd never heard of it. That's why I chose to watch it.

The Cobweb

A secluded institution abounding with practical reforms, struggles with its newfound freedoms as competing visions clash.

Responsibility has been encouraged and decision making facilitated, for one learns to productively cooperate by showing respect for individuality.

Two psychiatrists collegially compete to constructively promote level-headed convalescence, their authority granted by a distant board who casually observes on infrequent occasion.

The daily operations are overseen by a self-assured resilient administrator, who's worked there for quite some some time and prefers how things used to be.

At one time management unilaterally decided how to manage and decorate, and freely pursued grand interior design with neither coax nor consultation.

But as democratic reforms have been progressively accepted, patient committees have gained cultural influence, their tastes attempting to diversify integral home decor.

Ms. Inch (Lillian Gish) is restrained yet furious and wishes they could quickly chose then buy new drapes, instead of waiting for collective reckoning to agree upon a course of action.

She also thinks new age liberalities are glibly obstructing bureaucratic efficiencies, and collusively sets about introducing conflict to egalitarian cohesivities uprightly sought.

Thus, as the residents wholesomely discuss the merits of different fashions, the superstructure begins to break down as it tries to coldly reassert itself.

The new age doctor (Richard Widmark as Dr. McIver) stands his ground having devoted his life to his inclusive vision.

Be he spends little time with his family.

And his wife's (Gloria Grahame as Karen) grown rather irritated.

It's a brilliant unaffected microcosm cleverly enacting universal criticism, each character motivated by personal ambition yet frustrated by general resolve.

It's not about making correct decisions although every character maintains unabashed omniscience, but more of an insightful fluid investigation of ideology in political action.

Strengths and weaknesses a chaotic case comedically nurtured and tragically obscured, the perils of professional isolation tasked with self-centred piqued initiative.

The point perhaps may be that if you seek definitive clarification, you'll be frustrated by interpersonal practicality as the level of your commitment increases.

To function you have to go with the flow but to change things you have to innovate, and engrained historical preference will likely resist ethical reforms (even if juxtaposed historical preferences duel in time, as they do in politics).

But if competing ethical intensities become so specified they lose sight of the overarching picture.

People lose faith in the resultant confusion. 

Best to keep general health in mind.

Spock's needs of the many, conversation and dialogue.

*Perfect for political science students. What an animate illustration of work/life balance. 

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Spoiler Alert.

Tired of working for a prison's work farm, one inmate decides to play crazy, and winds up in a different sort of institution still strictly and coldly regulated.

He's rather aggressive and independent and quickly gains disputatious influence, realizing his wits are still intact and keen on promoting seismic change.

But the regulations are rather severe and there's no place for critical controversy; trouble abounds if you can't grow accustomed to the various binding slights.

R.P McMurphy (Jack Nicholson) has never been one to listen to anything besides his passionate emotion, and he goes about setting his brethren free, with oceanic amassed endeavour.

Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher) is sympathetic but also concerned with rigorous discipline, the film challenging psychiatric conventions used to theoretically promote sanity.

McMurphy's approach makes more sense for living or thoroughly enjoying undisciplined life, his wild contumelious hedonistic ontology the product of distaste for form and structure.

Nurse Ratched crafts strong workers who can function within a hierarchical structure, and pays less attention to thrilling desire than their productive work at hand.

McMurphy may have made complimentary inroads had he not been so thoroughly combative; life within the hospital may be dull but it's still aligned with reasonable thought.

He is rational or at least he reasons but he's not a trained psychiatrist.

He's well-versed in vibrant life but perhaps overly concerned with chaos.

He introduces fun and playful mischief to people unaccustomed to freedom, or to freely and confidently expressing themselves in order to obtain objectives.

The administration's goals and objectives promote sure and steady stability, but perhaps without considering happiness as it applies to daily life.

Nurse Ratched is often critiqued for being hard-hearted and stubborn, but McMurphy wantonly disrespects her even though she's trying to help.

He doesn't just make rude comments or eagerly disobey, he throws a party with booze and prostitutes and she's left with no choice but to punish him.

The punishment's grossly disproportionate and akin to tacit murder, if such methods are still used today we're clearly still quite a barbarous species.

Blending work and play with logical enjoyment seems like a rational goal to pursue.

I don't know how regulations can promote joy, but how do epicureans finance lavish lifestyles without ever having to work?

The balance is out there somewhere, hopefully emerging after vigorous investigation.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest examines extremes, bellicosely jostling in stern opposition.

Casting by Jane Feinberg & Mike Fenton.