Anyone who has not gone through the pain of losing a child would have a hard time fully comprehending just how painful that would be. No one should outlive their child. We may empathize with them, but we cannot comprehend the sheer depths of pain that person is going through unless we have gone through it, too. And not everyone grieves the same way, either. Some people withdraw into themselves, shutting down emotionally. Others try to overcompensate for the loss. Some blame themselves for the death, even if it was just an accident. Sometimes that feeling of guilt can build up until it threatens to explode.
Robert Redford is exploring these ideas in his 1980 Best Picture-winning film, Ordinary People, a movie that spends more than half its runtime hinting at what is wrong within a family before finally telling us what the full nature of it actually is. By doing so, it builds up intrigue, taps into our curiosity, and then pulls the rug out when it is finally revealed. This is a powerful drama in part because of this choice. We sense that something is not right, but it is subtle, like real life can be. Everyone is putting on a brave face, but we can see things are falling apart behind the scenes.
We get our first glimpse of that when we are introduced to Conrad (Timothy Hutton), the son of Calvin (Donald Sutherland) and Beth Jarrett (Mary Tyler Moore). Conrad wakes in the night in a sweat, coming out of a nightmare, and not for the first time. When his parents come home late and see the light on in his room, he covers for it by pretending to be studying late. We learn that Conrad attempted suicide but not the reason why, only that he recently returned from a psychiatric hospital and has been recommended that he start seeing a psychiatrist. It’s revealed that Conrad and his older brother, Buck, were on a boat during a storm and were capsized. Buck couldn’t hold on to the side of the boat anymore and drowned, and Conrad blames himself for his death.
Calvin is trying to connect with his son while at the same time trying to understand his wife, who has turned cold and distant. While Conrad appreciates the gesture, he has violent outbursts. He’s trying to control his emotions, but they prove to be more than he can handle, threatening to drive him to another suicide attempt. On his father’s urgings, he finally contacts Dr. Berger (Judd Hirsch), the psychologist, and makes an appointment.
Meanwhile, Beth just wants to avoid anything that can remind her of their loss. When confronted, she just wants to pack up and go on another vacation to Europe, go golfing, or anything else to try and avoid facing the loss. All her love and affection got buried along with her son, and Calvin is struggling to try and bring back the woman he fell in love with. But that would mean facing her trauma, and she would rather run away from it because it hurts too much.
Donald Sutherland got overlooked this year at the Academy Awards, yet whenever we see clips from this movie, it always seems to be from the closing scene between him and Timothy Hutton as they are finally able to drop their guards and let all the painful emotions out. Anyone who only knows Sutherland from his comedy films such as M*A*S*H*, Animal House, or his later work in The Hunger Games will be surprised to see just how much depth he can explore with a character such as this. He is putting on a brave face all of the time while struggling with his own grief, made all the more challenging because his wife is not helping him deal with it, and his son is in even worse shape. This is one of the truly great performances that got overlooked at the Oscars because it is so subtle yet so powerful.
Mary Tyler Moore is also hiding her pain. But we see it in little moments like when Conrad says he isn’t hungry, and she just takes his breakfast plate and throws all the food directly into the garbage disposal, ignoring Calvin’s protests. She is abrupt and no-nonsense, and we get a sense that there is no love for this son of hers. A later scene where she is asked to pose for a photo with Conrad and she is obviously uncomfortable and trying to get out of it cements that feeling. There is something off between them, and what it turns out to be is harrowing. She never outright accuses Conrad of killing his brother, but she might as well have. And then she is pressuring her husband to take her to Europe, leaving Conrad behind even though he had attempted suicide. Calvin sees that this isn’t right but is actively trying to go along to get along.
As good as Donald and Mary are, though, Timothy Hutton has the most challenging role in the film. He would prove to be up for the challenge, though as we go on this journey through his grief and blame, his angry outbursts, and moments of softness and clarity. This role won him an Oscar, but it did nothing for his career, which hasn’t lived up to this film in the forty-five years since. This could have been an actor walking around looking sad and angry all the time, but it avoids that pitfall by showing us that he also has moments where he isn’t dragged down by his depression. We also get teased about the nature of what happened to him by things like his loss of interest in his school’s swim team, which he hides from his parents. We’re told he was the best on the team but suddenly decides to walk away from it under the pretense that it no longer interests him. We never really get the sense that those at his school, including his swimming instructor, played by the always great M. Emmet Walsh, know how Buck died. It’s one of the few eye-raising choices made for this film.
Films like this just have to have a moment when the Conrad character comes to a bit of catharsis. This one is jump-started by the suicide of Karen, a friend of his from the psychiatric hospital. This triggers a breakdown and an unscheduled visit with Dr. Berger. This is the scene that won Hutton his Oscar, and it is a powerful one. He finally comes to terms with the idea that he cannot save everyone and that he blames himself for everything, whether it was in his control or not. This moment is so painful to watch, yet so mesmerizing that we cannot look away.
So much of this movie depends on us empathizing with this family. While they are upper-middle class, they are relatable to most people. We can see something is wrong long before we know what that actually is. Going back to rewatch it after knowing what it is helps that, too, because now we can better understand why Beth is distant and so adverse to anyone knowing things are not perfect behind closed doors. We can also understand the sheer magnitude of what Calvin is trying to accomplish by being there for his wife and his son, despite them pulling away from each other. His very nature makes him ill-prepared to handle this sudden upheaval, but it also ends up being his strength and his inroad to his son. The final scene with the two finally letting down their barriers and coming to terms with things is the perfect note to end the film on and leave us with the pure, raw emotions of the last two hours as we sit back and contemplate everything that we have just seen and heard. It is truly a great and powerful film that pulls at our emotions heavily without ever feeling like it is being manipulated.
Academy Award Nominations:
Best Picture: Ronald L. Schwary (won)
Best Director: Robert Redford (won)
Best Actress: Mary Tyler Moore
Best Supporting Actor: Judd Hirsch
Best Supporting Actor: Timothy Hutton (won)
Best Adapted Screenplay: Alvin Sargent (won)
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Release Date: September 19, 1980
Runtime: 124 Minutes
Rated R
Starring: Donald Sutherland, Mary Tyler Moore, Judd Hirsch, Timothy Hutton
Directed by: Robert Redford
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