THE DOCTOR: Blu-ray (Touchstone/Silver Screen Parners IV, 1991) Kino Lorber

“We place our faith in their skill. We lay our lives in their hands. But sooner or later we realize they are only human…and we hope that they notice we are too.”

I recall so well this tagline to Randa Haines’ The Doctor (1991), quietly believing the truth in its sentiment. I didn’t have a particularly good doctor myself back then, you see. But I was relatively grateful, in the complacent way we all are, when good health persists, merely to have a doctor – the vigor of youth preventing me from seeing him. In more recent times, as someone who has desperately needed compassionate care, only to discover it in very short supply from practicing physicians in my own home town, I now find Haines’ movie and its precepts frankly illuminating. Personally, I think The Doctor ought to be required viewing for every medical student currently studying to become the next Albert Schweitzer. And if I may, before segueing into my review of the film, I should like to offer a bit of my own advice to doctors everywhere, some of whom have misappropriated their training with a feeling of smug superiority that has completely obscured the purpose for their practice. So, to all aspiring practitioners: generalists and specialists alike. Your degrees should do something more for humanity than simply afford you a comfortable lifestyle. The craft of medicine is undoubtedly based in science. But the art of practicing it should never supersede your humility for those who come to you out of quiet, anxious desperation to be healed. For them, you are required to do so much more than simply nod your head and scribble down on a prescription pad something that no one, other than a pharmacist, can decipher. And, although I bear no ill will towards doctors in general, even those who rather condescendingly chose to ignore my symptoms at a critical time in my evolving health concerns, or otherwise misdiagnosed my condition then, almost to the point of no return, I will venture an opinion: that someday, some of them may require some sort of empathy. And when that day comes, I will sincerely wish all of them much better care than what was provided by them to me. Enough said. On with the show!

Ever since I first saw it, I have admired The Doctor for the valuable lessons learned the hard way by its protagonist, Dr. Jack MacKee; a self-appointed mandarin of the medical profession who dismisses, and even more unconscionably, frowns upon the legitimate concerns his patients have, until he too is forced to face a life-threatening illness from the inside of his lab coat.  It was not until I lost a beloved aunt to cancer that this movie’s more meaningful message was gleaned, to reassess the importance of one’s own time on earth, and, being sincere and kind toward others, in spite of our lesser angels’ influence to be more judgmental.  Based on Dr. Edward Rosenbaum’s 1988 novel, ‘A Taste of My Own Medicine’, The Doctor is the story of Jack MacKee (played to perfection by William Hurt). A successful surgeon, whose thriving L.A. practice affords him a comfortable lifestyle with wife, Anne (Christine Lahti) and young son, Nicky (Charlie Korsmo), Jack lacks the one essential ingredient to be truly great at his profession: an understanding heart. When a patient recovering from open heart surgery confides in him that her husband is not intimate with her since the operation, Jack cruelly quips that she is just like a Playboy centerfold – and has the staples right down her middle to prove it. Jack’s partner, Dr. Murray Kaplan (Mandy Patinkin) is an as devil-may-care sort. But his comeuppance arrives early on, when former patient, Mr. Richards (Richard McKenzie) files a lawsuit, having suffered a debilitating stroke as a result of his botched operation. Kaplan is understandably unnerved. After all, his livelihood and privileges at the hospital are at stake. But Jack confidently assures Murray he will testify at the formal inquest on his behalf, despite not knowing any of the particulars of Mr. Richard’s case.

On the home front Jack and Anne seem happy – or perhaps ‘happily distracted’ is a better way to describe their comfortably numb relationship. Each is busy with their career, viewing home and family as something merely fitted between the hours committed to work.  While returning from a dinner party, Jack develops a curious coughing fit. Anne is alarmed when Jack expels more than a few specks of blood onto his clothes, as well as her own, and, in her hair. The next day, Jack makes an appointment with oncologist, Dr. Leslie Abbott (Wendy Crewson); a rather clinically disinterested and ambitious sort, who treats patients more as specimens than people with legitimate concerns. After a cursorily examination, Dr. Abbott asserts Jack has a growth in his throat requiring a biopsy. The news is hardly calming, more so when the results come back positive. Jack has throat cancer. Forced to endure the same round of evasive tests and endless barrage of paperwork, Jack is scheduled for radiation therapy to shrink his tumor. But he still sees himself as apart from the other patients, his intolerance toward waiting his turn, delays and missteps made by the medical support personnel, grating on his nerves, but also incurring the displeasure of fellow patient, June Ellis (Elizabeth Perkins) who is being treated with aggressive chemotherapy for an inoperable brain tumor. The initial meeting between Jack and June is anything but cordial. She lays it on the line for him and he, believing she just needs to get over herself, condescendingly tells June that she will fully recover from her condition, just as a former patient of his father’s did. This news, wholly fabricated, gives June the necessary hope to continue her treatments. Ironically, her grace and empathy towards the other patients slowly begins to rub off on Jack. He befriends June and the two share stories about their lives – with Jack omitting that he is a doctor.

Inevitably, June learns the truth, and furthermore, that the patient Jack described to her was made up to make her feel better. Jack begins to understand cancer from a patient’s perspective – something he never before considered. A bond develops between June and Jack that is mutually rewarding. In the meantime, Jack’s relationship with Anne has begun to deteriorate. Believing she has no concept of what he is going through, Jack gravitates to June for moral support. After a mix up of hospital records results in Jack being given a barium enema after his second biopsy – revealing that not only has Jack’s tumor not shrunk with radiation, but has actually grown since the treatments, Jack slowly comes to believe Leslie Abbott is not the right doctor to perform his surgery. Confronting Abbott in her office with his concerns, Jack is treated to a litany of excuses and even more frigid disdain. In response, Abbott flings Jack’s file at him and storms off. Jack decides to have Dr. Eli Blumfield (Adam Arkin) perform his surgery instead. In the past, Jack has been critical, to downright condescending toward Eli – whom he has nicknamed ‘the rabbi’ to remain popular with his gentile/fair-weather friends. Secretly, Jack has admired Blumfield’s ethics, integrity and bedside manner from afar.

Jack applies his own newfound compassion to his latest patient, Mr. Maris (William Marquez) who is fearful of his own pending heart replacement surgery. Mrs. Maris (Lillian Hurst) tells her husband she believes true compassion is a quality of the heart, and after seeing the way Jack is able to calm her husband’s anxieties, she believes he is the surgeon for the job. As Murray’s inquest nears, Jack decides to investigate Mr. Richard’s case, particularly after he witnesses Mr. Richard lock his keys in his car. Unable to articulate his distress because of the aftereffects of his stroke, Mr. Richard is exceedingly grateful when Jack steps in. Promising to have Mr. Richard’s keys left for him at the front desk by the time his deposition is over, Jack investigates Mr. Richards’ file privately, learning that a simple test would have alerted Dr. Kaplan to the dangers of proceeding with the operation. Armed with this revelation, Jack informs Murray he cannot back him in the deposition – a move that effectively severs their lifelong friendship. Determined to do something nice for June, Jack learns she has long-desired to see a concert given by an American Indian ensemble. The group is currently performing in Arizona. On a whim and a spree, Jack rents a car and calls his secretary to order tickets ahead. Whisking June off with all speed, an ecstatic June suddenly becomes unnerved. She tells Jack the concert is not as important to her now. At her request, Jack parks the car on the side of the road in the desert. The two share intimate stories about their respective lives as they watch the sun set against the mesa. 

As the date for Jack’s operation approaches, he confides in June he is terrified about what the future will bring; a fear she tries, but cannot entirely quell for him. Afterward, Jack goes home and June begins to write him a letter. Several days pass and Jack receives a page, informing him that June has since slipped into a coma. He rushes to her bedside, tenderly holds her hand and talks to her until she quietly dies. The next day, Jack submits to his own surgery – and although entirely successful, Eli informs Anne there may be some irreversible damage to Jack’s vocal chords. For a few days after his surgery, Jack uses a whistle and an erasable clap board to communicate with Anne. Having been wounded by his lack of faith in her these many weeks, Anne is skeptical. But Jack rallies to her side, and, in a spontaneous moment, utters that he loves her, proving his vocal chords will eventually recover from the surgery. Jack has been transformed for the better by these experiences. In response, he institutes a plan of action to convince his interns they must be more engaged as human beings in order to become better doctors. Assigning each of his interns a particular illness, Jack prescribes the necessary barrage of tests they will one day prescribe for their patients. Only by going through the process themselves will they truly share in the experience. Returning to his office, Jack is astonished to find someone has forwarded June’s letter to him. Retiring to the rooftop where June first bared her soul to him, Jack reads the letter to himself; a parable about a farmer who successfully managed to scare off all the animals from his crops, then realized he desperately missed their company. So, he went into the fields and stretched out his arms to welcome them back. But the animals never returned, fearful of the farmer’s ‘new scarecrow’. The letter concludes with June’s own commentary. “Dear Jack,” she reasons, “Let down your arms and we’ll all come home.”  Realizing the wisdom in this parable, Jack smiles and tilts his head toward the sky with the understanding their friendship will always be a part of him.

The Doctor is likely to be an emotional experience for just about anyone who has suffered through the regimented dictates of a profession, frequently treating its clientele as mere billing numbers on a page. William Hurt (understated and powerful) and Elizabeth Perkins (positively luminous) strike an exquisite note; genuine, heartfelt and thoroughly nurturing. They possess excellent on-screen chemistry. Perkins is noteworthy, delivering an uncommon performance. Not knowing the actress back in 1991, I recall totally buying into her portrait of a woman facing down her own mortality alone, with serene dignity and consideration towards others. Something about that soulful/wounded look in those sensitive eyes. It cuts through all the artifice of acting, striking with the intensity of a bolt of lightning, and right through the heart. Watch for the moment when Perkins’ June comes to the realization Hurt’s Jack has lied to her about his former patient who survived brain cancer – her disbelief, at having bought into the lie. Suddenly, this gives way to a sober and devastating reality, utterly void of anger, disgust, or even, self-pity. Hurt’s turn as the callous professional morphed into compassionate caregiver is, quite simply, poetic. Hurt’s acting style has always been oddly satisfying. There is not another actor out there, past or present, who can seemingly do nothing at all, and yet, convey so much.  Robert Caswell’s screenplay does not belabor any of the ‘lessons’ outlined in Dr. Rosenbaum’s truth-revealing book, but rather gently coaxes the rediscovery of finding one’s soul and purpose in life with extraordinarily unvarnished subtlety. For very personal reasons, I cannot recommend this movie enough. Although only a modest success at the time of its release, The Doctor should – and must – be seen. It has a poignant, memorable, and very life-affirming tale to tell.

The Doctor looks solid on Blu-ray. Previously released via Mill Creek as a double feature with Stella – both movies crammed onto one disc (dumb idea), Kino Lorber's reissue of The Doctor is cause to rejoice. The 1080 image benefits from not having to share disc space, the image - crisp without being artificially enhanced. Grain is evident and accurately represented. Colors exhibit a characteristically dated quality – not faded – but sooooo early 90’s - with flesh tones slightly pinkish at times. Age-related damage has been cleaned up for a very smooth presentation. As such, The Doctor looks fairly close to the way I remember it and will surely not disappoint. Contrast is good and fine detail is excellent, especially in close-ups.  The DTS 5.1 audio delivers the goods. The Doctor is not a movie to give your bass a workout. But its subtle sound mix is well-preserved herein. Kino Lorber affords us a new audio commentary from director, Randa Haines, moderated by filmmaker, Heather Buckley - well worth the price of admission. We also get a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: very highly recommended!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

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