Welcome to another entry in the Oscar Film Journal, here at Enuffa.com! Strap into the DeLorean and let's head back to the 1970s, specifically to the year of my birth (in fact this film had its NYC premiere the day before I was born)....
Today's subject is the Best Picture winner for 1975, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, starring Jack Nicholson in a role that won him his first Oscar and helped define his storied career. Directed by Milos Forman and based on Ken Kesey's novel, Cuckoo's Nest takes place in a psychiatric ward in Oregon, where a multi-time petty criminal named Randle McMurphy has finagled a transfer out of the prison system to avoid hard labor. The administrator suspects McMurphy is faking mental illness but reluctantly agrees to keep him on a trial basis. McMurphy quickly finds himself in a power struggle with the ward's icy, domineering head nurse Mildred Ratched, ultimately inciting a rebellion among the other patients.
This film was in development hell for over a decade, originally set to star Kirk Douglas, and eventually the property found its way into his son Michael's hands instead. After thirteen long years of development (and a successful Broadway adaptation), the film was finally made in early '75 and became an instant sensation, finishing second at the box office that year, garnering nine Oscar nominations, and going on to be the second of three films ever to win the five major awards - Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress and Best (Adapted) Screenplay. In pop culture it's been referenced countless times, for example inspiring Metallica's "Welcome Home (Sanitarium)" and Stone Cold Steve Austin's iconic match ending moment at WrestleMania 13 where he fought Bret Hart's inescapable Sharpshooter before ultimately passing out (Austin cited Nicholson's attempt to lift an impossibly heavy water fountain as his impetus for that match finish).
Alright, enough about the movie's accomplishments and cultural impact, let's talk about its worth as a film.
Cuckoo's Nest works best when it plays as a fly-on-the-wall look at the goings-on in the asylum and the interplay between the characters. The supporting cast delivers numerous colorful, memorable performances, such as Brad Dourif's Oscar-nominated turn as Billy Bibbit, a cripplingly shy young man with a stutter and girl problems. There's also Will Sampson as a gigantic Native American called simply "Chief," who pretends to be deaf and dumb so he doesn't have to participate in group activities (in the novel he's also the narrator). Christopher Lloyd gives an unhinged performance as Max Taber, a troublemaker who bullies the meeker inmates. Danny DeVito reprises his stage role as the rather dimwitted Martini, providing much comic relief. But for me the standout supporting performance is from Sydney Lassick as Charlie Cheswick, an emotional wreck of a patient prone to tearful outbursts. Lassick's work here feels all too real and he makes Cheswick a fully realized character rather than the caricature he might've been. I'd have given him an Oscar nod as well.
The two leads are of course quite Oscar-worthy. Jack is at his manic best here, portraying McMurphy as a degenerate who is so charismatic and persuasive you can't help but root for him. Of all the Jack performances, this one might be the most Jack. And Louise Fletcher is note-perfect in a borderline thankless role where she has to play almost nothing, against the over-the-top theatrics of the inmates. Ratched has comparably not a lot of dialogue and Fletcher instead must internalize everything while also conveying the character's quiet malevolence with facials and body language.
The scenes involving McMurphy's interactions with the group and the staff are where the film shines; he inspires them to stand up for themselves against a system that seems content to simply keep them drugged and docile. His power struggle with Ratched is also a fascinating two-hand game, as he attempts to negotiate minor concessions in the group's routine without much success. These sequences contain great chaotic humor but also poignant commentary about the human spirit fighting against systemic forces that would enslave it.
Where the film falters a bit are in sequences like the impromptu field trip McMurphy engineers, commandeering a hospital bus, picking up a prostitute friend of his, and stealing a fishing boat. This scene to me feels out of place and bordering on screwball comedy, and it seems impossible to accept that McMurphy wouldn't face severe consequences for such a major infraction. It just feels a little too cute for this film.
There's also the third-act scene where McMurphy plans an escape by getting the overnight orderly drunk and stealing his keys, but not before treating his friends to a wild party and getting so drunk himself that he passes out until morning, foiling his own plan in the process. This scene is faithful to the novel but logistically it always felt a little unearned. I get McMurphy is a screwup who constantly trips over his own hubris, but would he really botch such a simple operation like this, when his very freedom is at stake?
Overall though, Cuckoo's Nest is a pretty great film full of big performances (and one very understated one) and fascinating ensemble scenes with a loose, improvisational feel. It takes place in the early 60s but feels very much like 70s cinema, with naturalistic dialogue and an almost documentary vibe.
It should be noted that parts of the story could be seen as problematic fifty years later; the only female characters are the evil nurse and her mostly silent underling, and the two ditzy hookers McMurphy pals around with. Apparently when writing the novel Kesey was partly conveying concern over society's "emasculation of men," whatever that means. I've seen this movie several times but it wasn't until I watched this newly remastered 4K edition that I realized it could be read as misogynistic. It becomes a complex issue to view a fifty-plus-year-old film based on a sixty-plus-year-old novel through a contemporary lens, to be sure.
But I think more importantly this story is meant to shine a spotlight on the cruelty inflicted on psychiatric patients by a system that viewed them not as human beings but as a nuisance to be silenced and kept away from "normal" society. McMurphy may be a scumbag and a philanderer, but he inspires the group to rediscover their humanity and individuality a little. I think that's meant to be the main takeaway, right?
I give the film ***1/2 out of ****.
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