Wit (October 9/01)

Had Wit premiered in theaters rather than on HBO, there's no doubt that Emma Thompson would've received (at the very least) an Oscar nomination for her performance. But the subject matter of Wit precluded its ability to be made for theatrical release (in this day and age, where teen comedies are all the rage, which studio is going to bankroll an edgy film about a woman's struggle with terminal cancer?), so it went straight-to-cable (in actuality, it was made specifically for HBO).

Thompson stars as a professor of poetry that, as the film opens, learns she has end-stage cancer and must - from here on in - dedicate herself to staving off the progress of the disease for as long as possible. This entails long hours of chemotherapy, ingesting experimental drugs - essentially putting aside her life for the sole purpose of fighting the cancer. Her doctor is more interested in the results of her treatment, so he can further his research. She's always been an emotionally distant woman and as such, has never been married nor does she seem to have any friends. Indeed, her only companion at the hospital is a kind nurse. The movie alternates between harshly realistic scenes of Thompson suffering the effects of her treatment and more intimate, character-revealing sequences in which Thompson expresses her regrets to the nurse.

Wit is based on a play (which originally starred Who's The Boss' Judith Light, no less) and the theatrical origins still remain far too evident - most clearly in the monologues delivered directly to the camera. This is irritating and unnecessary. It completely stops the action and kills any forward momentum the film may have been building up. Thompson performs these scenes well and it's easy to see why it may have been tempting to leave them in (it allows us to easily understand what the Thompson character is feeling), but it just doesn't work. Breaking down the fourth wall rarely works to begin with, but it's especially intrusive here.

Despite that, though, Wit is incredibly moving and features what is perhaps Thompson's finest performance. The dour subject matter and director Mike Nichols' unflinching approach may make this a difficult viewing, but it is rewarding.