Benny & Joon (1993)
Directed by Jeremiah S. Chechik

Film Review

The subject of mental illness is one that has been sensitively dealt with in a great many films, more often than not with depressing realism - see for example George Franju's La Tête contre les murs (1959), Milos Forman's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) and James Mangold's Girl, Interrupted (1999).  Other filmmakers have opted for a more upbeat approach and promote a contrary view, implying that what society regards as a sorry aberration is in fact merely part of the rich diversity of the human construct, something to be welcomed not lamented.  Barry Levinson's Rain Man (1988), Gus Van Sant's Good Will Hunting (1997) and Stephen Chbosky's The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012) belong to this second category and are no less authentic in their handling of mental illness in its many guises.  Jeremiah S. Chechik's Benny & Joon is another film of this ilk, not quite as well considered, but nonetheless highly engaging, its manifest failings on the script front more than made up for by the quality of the performances of the three admirably well-chosen lead actors.

Christopher Morahan's acclaimed BBC drama Can You Hear Me Thinking? (1990) (starring Judi Dench and Michael Williams) stands out as possibly the most authentic screen portrayal of an ordinary family coping with mental illness.  Against this, Chechik's sentimental comedy can't help looking slight and a tad rose-tinted, but the unending emotional strain of having to take responsibility for a loved family member is palpably conveyed by Aidan Quinn as the 30-something brother whose entire life is consumed by his need to protect his apparently schizophrenic sister.  Quinn's presence in the film is too easily overshadowed by his more glamorous co-stars Johnny Depp and Mary Stuart Masterson, but he is the one thing that anchors this fanciful rom-com in reality and gives it the dramatic punch it requires to avoid being just a piece of vacuous crowd-pleasing whimsy.

Benny & Joon was directed by Jeremiah S. Chechik immediately after he had scored a notable box office hit with National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (1989).  Chechik's filmography contains a fair number of outright misfires - from the disappointing Clouzot rehash Diabolique (1996) to the totally misguided attempt to resurrect an iconic '60s British television show The Avengers (1998) - and this is presumably why he has stuck to TV directing since the late 1990s.  Benny & Joon is undeniably his most satisfying and memorable film, an enjoyably off-beat comedy that makes light of the eccentricities of human behaviour - of which mental illness is only a part - without ever crossing the line into offensiveness.  On its initial release, the film proved to be a surprising hit, its success due in no small measure to the mushrooming popularity of its lead actor, Johnny Depp.

With barely half a dozen film credits to his name by the time he contributed his immense talents to Benny & Joon, Depp was already a major movie star, thanks to his universally lauded lead portrayal in Tim Burton's contemporary Gothic fairytale Edward Scissorhands (1990).  In preparing for this film, Depp had spent a great deal of time studying Charlie Chaplin's technique, since Burton's film required him to find a way to engage the audience's sympathy without dialogue.  The skill that the actor acquired on this film served him well on Benny & Joon, in which he had a mostly non-speaking role as an eccentric outsider with an overwhelming fascination with silent screen comics of the past.

It is not overstating matters to say that Depp practically steals the film, particularly in those utterly captivating scenes where he imitates Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton with an extraordinary attention to detail and the kind of unbridled comedic flair not seen on screen since the late 1920s.  Depp's recreation of Chaplin's memorable 'bread roll dance' from The Gold Rush (1925) is as hilarious as the original, and his Keaton-esque mimes and pratfalls are no less adorable to watch.  Johnny Depp's obvious talent and enthusiasm for physical comedy are more noticeable here than on probably any other film he made, but what is more remarkable is the actor's ability to communicate his character's thoughts and feelings with mere physical gestures alone, making dialogue almost totally superfluous. Large swathes of Benny & Joon function beautifully as silent cinema, helped by Depp's visual gymnastics and some highly expressive camera work.  Depp may not have been a fully fledged actor by this stage in his career, but his promise is more than in evidence and he richly deserved his Golden Globe nomination for Best Actor in a Comedy/Musical.

Whilst Benny & Joon plays to Johnny Depp's strengths (and consequently tends to allow him to steal most of the limelight) its real emotional heart lies in the equally strong performances from the two other leads - Mary Stuart Masterson and Aidan Quinn.  As the chronically schizophrenic Joon and her devoted carer-brother Benny, the latter two actors give the film the harsh jolt of reality it needs to keep us engaged and see that, beneath the quirky comedy, this is a story of real human interest. This is a film that poses an important moral question - just how should society regard those with mental illness?  Thirty years after the film was made, it is a conundrum that we are still grappling with - and for good reason: there are no easy answers.

Masterson's portrayal of a young schizophrenic woman is so convincing that at times it is distressing to watch, and this provides a suitably barbed counterpoint to the kooky flights of fancy that are clearly intended to direct the film towards more conventional rom-com territory.  Quinn's solid performance is no less authentic and it soon becomes apparent that his character Benny is as dependent on Joon as she is on him - one of the more poignant and sobering aspects of the film.  When Benny discovers that his sister has formed a romantic attachment with the interloper Sam his hostile reaction appears cruel and excessive - but what lies beneath is the obsessive need that he has developed over long years to protect his vulnerable sibling from anything that might worsen her condition.  In a way, Benny is as sick and fragile as Joon - he just doesn't know it yet.

It is easy to fault Benny & Joon for its light-hearted handling of some serious issues but, despite the high quirkiness quotient and an overly simplistic plot resolution it has a great deal to say about how society should regard mental illness.  The film may have a tendency to skate over the unpleasant realities of its subject matter, but it isn't anywhere near as shallow or flippant as it first appears.  It's easy to scoff at the glib fairytale ending, in which Joon and Sam end up living happily ever after (making cheese toasties with an electric iron), but there surely is merit in the idea that those burdened with mental illness are better off living independent lives rather than being merely confined to a secure institution.  For a film made in the early 1990s, Benny & Joon still feels remarkably pertinent, and it has lost none of its warmth and charm.

Film Synopsis

Benny Pearl, a car mechanic in his early thirties, lives with his younger sister Joon, an aspiring artist who is prone to violent mood swings on account of her mental illness.  It has been several years since the siblings lost their parents in a terrible accident, and whilst Joon makes great demands on his time and patience, Benny remains devotedly attached to her - so much so that he has neglected his own personal life.  One evening, Joon gets to play poker with one of Benny's friends, Mike, and loses - with the result that the Pearls are forced into accommodating Mike's eccentric cousin Sam.  An illiterate odd-ball with severe communication difficulties, Sam is fascinated with silent film comedians of the past, particularly Buster Keaton, and enjoys impersonating them for the amusement of passers-by.  Benny merely finds Sam annoying but takes a shine to him when he makes a positive impression on Joon and repays the Pearls' kindness by dutifully cleaning their house.

With Sam keeping Joon safe and occupied, Benny has time to start dating Ruthie, a likeable young woman who works in a diner.  Things seem to be working out well for everyone until Joon tells her brother that she and Sam have embarked on a passionate love affair.  Disgusted by this betrayal of his trust, Benny throws Sam out of his house and drives him away.  Unable to cope with his sister's extremely erratic behaviour after Sam's departure, Benny has no other option than to agree to Joon being committed to a secure home for the mentally ill.  It isn't long before Benny begins to regret his decision, but by this time his sister refuses to have anything more to do with him.  With Sam's help, Benny manages to get past the security measures at the institution where his sister is being detained and offers her the prospect of a new life in an apartment of her own...