We held each other!

Rating: 6/10 (19 February 2017)

As Good as It Gets is directed by James L. Brooks, who has always had a good eye for characters beyond merely how the plot's cause and effect drive them. In Terms of Endearment it was two single women, pushing back against judgy social circles and vying for each other's approval as a third generation beckoned. Broadcast News was about juggling romance and professionalism in the corporate world of TV news journalism. It had satiric bite, but also a good heart underneath and an honesty towards its characters. More recently there was Spanglish, which had so much potential in surveying the loss of culture and control in the context of a maid's daughter within a wealthy American family and upbringing, but which fizzled out into straight romance. Jack Nicholson stars in As Good as It Gets as an OCD obsessed recluse disturbed by his gay neighbour and black art dealer.
Though initially we think Melvin is a nasty racist and homophobe, eventually we come to realise he is an equal opportunity misanthrope. In one of his more prickly performances, Nicholson gingerly steps between the pavement cracks of New York, waddling around like a fat penguin, and hurls abuse so casually that we are shocked someone hasn't yet taken a shot at him (or ejected him from his favoured cafe). He types romance and love novels but doesn't practice what he preaches. Yet behind that cruel smile and open hostility is really just a scared little boy lashing out at what he doesn't understand - like something out of a School Bullying 101 manual from decades ago, he shrinks when Frank confronts, and is later coddled like a tantrum-prone child acting out by the only one who can handle him, his usual waitress Carol. "Behave!", she tells him while wagging her finger, and when he says something unredeemable, the whole cafe goes silent, and she draws a line in the sand, and it seems he has a line too.
This power imbalance is why the eventual romance is hard to swallow. Does Mervin merely shut up because he couldn't bear not having his usual meal in the usual location, or does he really understand the gravity of what he has just said? His payment of the sick son's medical bills straddles the same argument, and again and again throughout the film, he aims barbed insults so casually, and resets his progress towards redemption. The whole process is so infuriating we begin to wonder why someone like Carol, with seemingly unlimited pools of patience and empathy, still sticks around to see him finally become some semblance of a decent human being. Not only does she baby the misbehaving Melvin, but one-night stands also turn into askew affairs, her dabbing the shirt of her date like a toddler at feeding time. They are worlds apart.
One of Melvin's little steps sees him begrudgingly take care of his neighbour's dog and like something out of a Disney movie, come to eventually love and care for Verdell - after all, you can't be racist to a dog, can you? He won't even touch people, but he smothers the Brussels Griffon with affection squeezed out from the deepest chasms of his hardened heart. Meanwhile he is bullying Verdell's owner, literally hitting the man as he is down. Some of the insults are as clever as they are cruel ("You'll be back on your knees in no time") and again we marvel at how casually nasty he can be. Though the script aims to warm our hearts, it more than often disarms us with sudden tonal shifts; the next day he's knocking at the door with hot soup, and just about the only compliment Melvin ever gives Simon is directed at his tidiness: "Nice packing."
He exists in a conservative dog-eat-dog world where everyone fends for themselves, and where there are no helping hands and no free sympathies. He treats Carol's letter of gratitude like an infectious disease, and Nicholson stares at Hunt as if she was an alien: how could his innocuous act result in someone being so open and exposed? And yet she beats herself up for doing so, for putting her dignity above her son's wellbeing, and in a heartbreaking moment, punishes herself for being so selfish, for wanting companionship and normalcy away from sickness. Could Melvin ever have this much self-awareness, this much compassion? Simon says: "Don't force him." He wants Verdell to come over of his own accord. And the audience wants Melvin to make the same steps, not because he has been prodded along and lectured on what is right and wrong, but through his own judgement. And I think eventually, he does make it there.