The Big Chill-Lawrence Kasdan

So overtly apropos can some works of art be—which happen to cross your path at just the right time—that it is difficult to refute the notion of fate.

I experienced this earlier in the year when I went to see Perfect Days, and then once again when I flipped on The Big Chill. Had I seen either of the aforementioned movies at in an earlier section of life I doubt they would have had near the amount of impact as they did when I happened to view them.

The Big Chill always lingered around the house of my parents—and various other baby boomers—in either the soundtrack form or the VHS itself. More often than not collecting dust on an entertainment center. An antiquated title that felt as if came along with the mortgage as a closing gift from the realtor.

Now that I can appreciate artists like Marvin Gaye, The Rolling Stones, Smokey Robinson, & The Rascals it makes sense why the soundtrack to this film was so popular, as there was quite the catalog of bangers to go along with the ebb and flow of a generation that seemed to have arrived prematurely at the end of their journey.

This is the artists stroke that paints the overall picture of The Big Chill: disillusionment.

Several other words may be more accurate. Disenfranchised, betrayed, chagrined, numb, underwhelmed, depressed. Any of which synonyms could be applied to this film and it would be fitting.

As a kid, I knew little about the film other than the plot revolved around a funeral of a friend and I deduced the title to being applied as a feeling of having the willies at a funeral. As an adult, I came to find out that the title refers to a numb state of being that slaps you so hard in the face it sends a big chill down your spine; the acceptance of adulthood at the death of your childhood.

In my teens, twenties, and even my thirties I never would have understood the collective plight of all of the characters as they commiserated through mundane-dialogue lamenting alien aggravations.

What it felt like to arrive at the stage of your life where you settle into autopilot until retirement. The prolonged absence of zest. Dormant one-sided marriages devoid of romance. Unfulfilling careers. Lack of momentum. Some still stuck in that flux stage of immaturity and others chastising them for acting like infants. Single with the lingering fear of permanent solitude. Betrayal of the self for abandoning the fight for once-sacred causes in preference of attaining financial security. Boredom.

None of these things I would have been able to comprehend. But now that I am 15 days away from arriving at the 4th decade of my life, I now understand the advent of these new struggles.

The Big Chill revolves around the suicide of friend Alex (Kevin Costner) who served as the nucleus for a group of Michigan alumni about a decade and a half removed from their penultimate stage before entering the real world.

Sam (Tom Berenger) is a big shot Hollywood actor. Michael (Jeff Goldblum) is a reporter for People magazine. Nick (William Hurt) is a calloused, impotent and drug addicted veteran that hosts a radio show centering around psychology. Meg (Mary Kay Place) is a single real estate attorney. Karen (JoBeth Williams) is a failed writer and unhappily married woman. And all are staying at Sarah (Glenn Close) and Harold (Kevin Kline) Coopers house with Chloe (Meg Tilly) Alex's ex-girlfriend for an impromptu reunion.

After the funeral, the frustrations of addled living are gradually exchanged over dinner, wine, and marijuana.

Despite the tremendous amount of success in each of their lives every character appears to lament their current station as a tremendous disappointment. Sam finds everyone in Hollywood to be phony leeches and misses authentic friendships. Michael wants out of his vocation and hopes to invest in a nightclub. Meg desperately wants a baby but feels as if the pool of viable candidates is impossibly shallow. Karen considers the end of her marriage to be inevitable. And Nick seems to have reduced his dependency of happiness to cocaine and pills.

Sarah and Harold, the (seemingly) most level headed couple of the group try their best to remove the collective melancholy shroud that has fallen over their friends, even going so far as offering up their reproductive services to kick start the biological clock of a close friend into action before time runs out.

To some degree they succeed while wrestling with a lingering guilt of thinking more about themselves rather than mourning properly over the death of their friend and divvy out guilt trip baggage for anyone who noticed the preemptive signs of Alex's demise and choosing to stay mute along the way. But more often than not the focus shifts back to the friends and their current issues; and their quest to rid lethargy by any means possible.

At the end, some of the issues appear to be resolved while others feel as if are temporarily put on hold. I, as the viewer, did not trust the characters capability of being able to sustain their temporary happiness and felt as if they would eventually give back into the crushing routines of everyday life and return to cyclical torpor.

As the days go by I do find it interesting to uncover the struggles unique to every stage. As kids we struggle against authority, then in the teenage years the struggle shifts over to peer pressure, then in the twenties it shifts over to a battle against the self, in your thirties its a struggle to keep up, then into the forties it feels as if its a struggle for self-security.

"Is this all there is?" "Where did I fall short?" "Why does everyone else seem happy but me?" "I have everything I could want, yet why am I miserable?" "When did I become such a fraud?" "Where did fulfillment go?"

These are all questions that have fluttered into the mind frame when I allow the blues to take control. But after viewing The Big Chill, I have come to find that these are not distinctive interrogations. But, rather, a universal set of obstacles that seem to come along with this next stage of life.

Not that it is a healthy exercise to engage in. But I'm willing to bet that, despite what people would like for the world to believe, if everyone were to lay their cards open-faced on the table, my hand wouldn't be drastically behind or ahead of many others at this point in life.

My faith is in tip top shape and the bouts with the blues are never too drastic. I spend more time in church than at the bar. I have been single for the better part of adulthood, but manage loneliness pretty well. I have no car at the moment, but am $9,000.00 ahead of the rat race. My body aches at times, but my diet is rather well-kept and I am largely content with what I see looking back at me in the mirror. I escaped from the wild-life of my twenties (and mid-thirties) with two overnight stays in the drunk tank, but bereft of a D.U.I. or anything else that would leave lasting legal scars attached to my name. If my wildest dreams were to unfurl I would be a best-selling author who eventually takes a hand at directing a movie I had written, but, realistically, I have my doubts of ever making it to the point that writing can solely provide me with a living. But the fact that my shoes are actively laced up to join in the race is enough for me.

All in all, not too bad.

This is about as honest of an inventory as I can provide to the world of my current state of affairs at 40 years old. Some success, some failure. Any of which you could apply to the general battles all of the characters in The Big Chill wage on a day to day basis.

Great film.

Stars: ****

Verdict: Watch

Cousins: The Breakfast Club, American Pie, American Beauty, St. Elmo's Fire, Diner