Movies with Meaning, by Brent Marchant, TGMN Movie Correspondent

Shedding New Light on an Iconic Talent

 

There are times when certain talents don’t receive their due, lingering somewhat below the radar and arguably going undervalued. Fortunately, there are those who recognize their gifts and unhesitatingly sing their praises, bringing a new sense of appreciation to their work. And those testimonials serve to shed a new light on these artists, showcasing them in a way not previously portrayed. Such is the case with a gifted, if not always appreciated writer-actor-director-comedian profiled in the enlightening new documentary, “Remembering Gene Wilder” (web site, trailer).

Born Jerome Silberman to Jewish parents in Milwaukee in 1933, Gene Wilder developed an interest in comedy at a young age. When his mother, Jeanne, became seriously ill with rheumatic fever, her doctor advised the aspiring talent to do all that he could to keep from upsetting her, adding that young Jerome might even want to try making her laugh – which he did. His acting and comic abilities subsequently took off, eventually leading him to relocate to New York.

Not long after his arrival in the Big Apple, he landed a supporting role in a stage production of Bertolt Brecht’s Mother Courage and Her Children opposite actress Anne Bancroft. She was impressed with the budding actor’s abilities and believed he would be ideal for a role in “The Producers” (1967), the upcoming directorial film debut of her-then boyfriend (and future husband), Mel Brooks. The role was that of a milquetoast accountant named Leo Bloom, who, with the blessing of eccentric, bombastic producer Max Bialystock (Zero Mostel), concocts a tax dodge scheme on how to make a financial killing on a sure-fire Broadway flop called Springtime for Hitler (also the film’s original title). Even though it took some time for Brooks to eventually meet with and cast Wilder in this outrageous comedy, he landed the part and delivered a performance that earned him an Oscar nomination for best supporting actor, despite strong initial objections to his casting from one of the film’s backers. His career was thus off and running.

As it turns out, though, even though “The Producers” was Wilder’s breakthrough role, while awaiting the outcome of his casting decision, he took a small supporting role in director Arthur Penn’s infamous crime saga, “Bonnie and Clyde” (1967), a part that was supposed to be serious but that he was able to turn into some of this violent picture’s best comic relief. And, even though this performance didn’t apparently have any bearing on his role in “The Producers,” it established Wilder as someone to watch for big screen comedy consideration.

That consideration flowered in subsequent years. He first earned the role of the title character in the family release, “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” (1971), a comedy with more than its fair share of tongue-in-cheek comic touches that suited Wilder’s sensibilities perfectly, many of which he adlibbed himself. Even though “Wonka” underperformed at the box office (many parents objected to some of its dark humor, psychedelic imagery and allusions, and suggestive subject matter), Wilder was singled out for his highly nuanced performance, full of delightfully unexpected moments.

This recognition carried through into subsequent roles, such as his edgy and outlandishly funny portrayal as an accomplished physician who unexpectedly becomes smitten with a sheep named Daisy in director Woody Allen’s “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex (But Were Afraid to Ask)” (1972). This was followed up by his iconic portrayal of the Waco Kid, a recovering alcoholic gunslinger in Mel Brooks’s Western sendup “Blazing Saddles” (1974), a role he took over when actor Gig Young was unable to fulfill his commitment to the part, a performance considered one of the most memorable comic portrayals in screen history.

However, Wilder’s greatest accomplishment was yet to come later in 1974 with his work on another Brooks collaboration, “Young Frankenstein.” This black-and-white parody of filmmaker James Whale’s “Frankenstein” (1931) and “Bride of Frankenstein” (1935), which Wilder co-wrote with Brooks, featured the actor in the lead role of Dr. Frederick Frankenstein (pronounced FRONK-en-shteen), a descendent of the legendary mad scientist who tries unsuccessfully to distance himself from his questionable heritage. The film, which boasts a phenomenal ensemble cast including Marty Feldman, Madeline Kahn, Teri Garr, Cloris Leachman, Peter Boyle and Gene Hackman, has only gotten better with age, thanks in large part to its brilliantly hilarious Oscar-nominated script. This was Wilder at his best – and the picture that he saw as his personal favorite.

While many of Wilder’s subsequent offerings were not looked upon as favorably as these early efforts, this insightful documentary expertly examines the actor-writer-director’s later underrated works and puts them in a new light, particularly when it comes to showcasing the novel touches he brought to these performances. These roles reveal a performer who was adept at not only evoking laughs, but also at being able to effectively capture degrees of vulnerability that added warmth to and empathy for the portrayals of these characters. This becomes evident through film clips from such movies as “Silver Streak” (1976), “The World’s Greatest Lover” (1977), “The Frisco Kid” (1979), “Stir Crazy” (1980) and “See No Evil, Hear No Evil” (1989). In addition, they also illustrate how Wilder was able to bring out the best in his co-stars, demonstrating a generosity of spirit that many of them attribute to being one of his best attributes as a consummate professional. This includes his collaborations with the likes of Richard Pryor (“Silver Streak,” “Stir Crazy,” “See No Evil, Hear No Evil” and “Another You” (1991)), Carole Kane (“The World’s Greatest Lover”), Harrison Ford (“The Frisco Kid”) and Gilda Radner (“Hanky Panky” (1982), “The Woman in Red” (1984) and “Haunted Honeymoon” (1986)), a relationship that would eventually become more than professional.

Outside of his professional accomplishments, “Remembering Gene Wilder” also focuses on his life off the big screen. Most notably it addresses his last two marriages, his bittersweet relationship with Radner, whom he saw as the perfect partner but who tragically died from cancer only five years after their wedding, and his subsequent betrothal to Karen Boyer, who helped him heal from Gilda’s death and spent many happy years with Wilder until his passing. It also focuses on the many friendships he developed over the years, including Alan Alda, Harry Connick Jr. and Eric McCormack, all of whom noted that the same qualities he brought to his professional collaborations were present in their personal relationships as well.

After Radner’s death and his marriage to Boyer, Wilder’s priorities changed somewhat. He devoted more time to his personal life and, when he did work, he was focused more on television than movies. In this regard, he perhaps became best known for his appearances on the sitcom Will & Grace (2002-2003), winning a Prime Time Emmy Award for Outstanding Guest Actor on a Comedy Series. He also began engaging in other pursuits, such as stage work, writing books and painting watercolors. He entered semi-retirement in 2005, remaining there until his passing from Alzheimer’s Disease in 2016.

Through this portrait, viewers witness Wilder’s versatility in so many areas, as well as skills for tackling diverse and often quite eccentric roles. The camera spotlights the many nuances that often went unnoticed in his performances, and interviews with those who knew him reveal a gentle, warm, thoughtful soul who brought as much to his personal character as to his craft. It’s an eye-opening watch in many ways, showing the life of someone truly worth remembering.

Looking back on his many accomplishments, Wilder was indeed a creative titan. He was able to envision inspired creations of his own and how to take those of others and enhance them for maximum effect. And he did this by confidently believing in himself and his capabilities, as well as in the guidance, assistance and cooperation he extended to others. That was crucial to his success, given that our beliefs play a vital role in the manifestation of the existence we experience. It’s unclear whether Wilder was aware of this school of thought, but, considering the track record of his achievements, it’s obvious that, on some level, he knew how to employ its principles.

This becomes apparent in the film when, in archive footage, he relates how he came up with the idea for “Young Frankenstein.” After he completed filming on “Blazing Saddles,” he developed an interest in wanting to write material for the screen, not just act. So, while on a break between projects, he set about coming up with ideas for original writing projects. In the seclusion of his vacation home, he sat down with a legal pad and began to contemplate concepts when he was struck with an intuitive insight, which he proceeded to write down – the phrase “Young Frankenstein.” He mused over the notion further, and, before long, he was sold on the idea that this could become a viable undertaking. He conferred with Mel Brooks, and, in no time, the production was in development.

Wilder believed so strongly in the concept that it came together rather quickly and easily. But, to fulfill his vision, he insisted on certain aspects of the production to fully flesh it out in line with his conception for the film. For instance, he was eager to have Brooks direct it but not to appear in it. He also saw it being filmed in black-and-white in the style of the James Whale films on which it was based, something he believed was essential to the character of the picture. He faced some studio resistance on this point, given that black-and-white movies had fallen out of favor by the early 1970s, but he passionately contended that shooting in color would be inauthentic to the nature of the production. He also played a big role in the selection of his co-stars, firmly believing in the proposed choices, all of whom were ultimately selected. These all proved to be wise decisions considering the finished product. He believed in them, and he fought for them, because he was convinced he was right – which he ultimately was. Indeed, what a creation this film proved to be.

Wilder’s generosity of spirit, a topic that so many of the interview subjects reference in the film, also stemmed from his beliefs. Beginning early on in life, when he figured out how to make his ailing mother laugh, Wilder learned what good could come from such a magnanimous attitude, and he believed in it so firmly that he naturally incorporated it into his professional collaborations in a variety of ways. For instance, as Wilder’s young “Willy Wonka” co-star Peter Ostrum observes in this documentary, the protagonist always treated his youthful counterpart as an equal, despite their significant age difference. As a promising talent whose primary experience before the film was in the youth company of a community theater, Ostrum benefitted from the gentle guidance Wilder offered, helping the youngster give a more polished performance than he might have otherwise.

Likewise, in the films that Wilder made with Richard Pryor, he gave his co-star the patient support he needed in light of the personal challenges he was undergoing at the time – initially, his struggle with substance abuse and, later, his challenges associated with multiple sclerosis. Wilder recognized what his collaborator was enduring and took a gentle approach to giving him space when needed, especially when it came to shooting conditions and schedules, generally with a deft touch and a desire not to crowd Pryor. His belief in taking a proactive but largely hands-off stance enabled him to get the most out of his colleague’s performance without applying undue pressure.

This, of course, carried over in his personal life, particularly during Gilda Radner’s battle with cancer. He worked tirelessly to help secure treatment for his wife and to assist her in her very public effort to help raise awareness about the disease and its detection. The outcome was not what the couple had ultimately hoped for, but it kept them together and fighting throughout the ordeal, one driven by his belief in generosity of spirit and the deep love he held for her.

This trait was not lost on himself, either. He made use of it in making his own performances and projects better, too, as candidly shown through the various nuances he readily applied to his own work, many of which are depicted and commented on in the film. These magic on-screen moments – many of which were roundly overlooked previously – are cast in a new light here. The film and its interview subjects, such as his co-stars and film commentators like Ben Mankiewicz of Turner Classic Movies, cite the many influences that Wilder drew upon in creating these singular moments. The inspiration that came from some of Wilder’s idols, like Charlie Chaplin, Laurel & Hardy and 1930s Hollywood movie musicals, not to mention the Jewish humor that was part of his upbringing, all went into making him a better performer, and we, as his audience, benefit from that, something we should be grateful for.

As documentaries go, this offering largely plays it straight in terms of its content and structure, exploring Wilder’s roots and recounting his rise to fame, told in chronological sequence. But, despite this conventional approach, “Remembering Gene Wilder” offers viewers much. The film features a number of recent interviews with his collaborators, friends and an array of movie industry production professionals. It also includes ample clips from Wilder’s films, as well as plenty of archive video and still photograph footage of those who helped shape him and who he, in turn, helped shape. Most importantly, though, this offering examines what made Wilder unique as an artist and as a private individual, someone known for his singular vision as a comedic (yet vulnerable) actor and as a compassionate, generous colleague toward those he loved and worked with. The result is a surprisingly eye-opening look at its subject, revealing sides of Wilder personally and professionally that many outside of his inner circle may not have known. The overall approach of this offering may not be particularly inventive, but the result is well worth a watch nevertheless. This release is available on home media and for streaming online.

Sometimes it’s necessary to take a step back to re-evaluate someone’s creations, and this film drives that point home where Gene Wilder is concerned. When he died, his longtime friend and collaborator Mel Brooks confessed that he was inconsolable for weeks afterward, despite the fact that he knew in advance the end was drawing near. That’s the kind of impact that this talented artist and good man had on others, even if those traits weren’t always fully recognized, appreciated or widely known. Fortunately, this film sets the record straight, helping us to take a new look at one of Hollywood’s brightest stars, one whose presence is indeed missed but whose memory lives on in what he left behind and the impressions he made on those who knew him and those who admired his impressive body of work. Shine on Mr. Bloom, Waco and Dr. Frankenstein.

A complete review is available by clicking here.

New Movies for May 

Join yours truly and show host Frankie Picasso for looks at six new films on the upcoming movie review edition of the Frankiesense & More video podcast, to begin airing Thursday May 30 at 1 pm ET. Tune in on Facebook or YouTube for all the fun and lively discussion!

Plumbing Life’s Big Questions

In all truthfulness, how often do most of us take the time to contemplate life’s “big issues”? Given the importance and impact they have on us, one might think they’re something we should all examine in greater detail and on a more frequent basis than we probably do. Yet we often find ourselves distracted by the comparatively inconsequential minutiae of everyday life, setting aside those grand questions that we must all ultimately address for ourselves. And, as the number of days ahead of us begins to dwindle, we’re frequently forced to scramble for insights, perhaps not being able to examine these matters in the depth and detail that they deserve. However, if we truly want to do them – and ourselves – justice, we should make the effort to probe them with a sincere sense of introspection in hopes of arriving at some profound, meaningful conclusions while we still have the chance, an undertaking explored in the engaging new philosophical drama, “Freud’s Last Session” (web site, trailer).

Near the end of his life in 1939, Dr. Sigmund Freud (Anthony Hopkins) – considered by many to be the father of modern psychiatry – held one last session at his London home after the Austrian ex-patriot fled encroaching Nazi oppression in his native Vienna. At that time, just as the German blitzkrieg against Poland was beginning and war with Britain was looming, Freud is said to have met with an Oxford scholar, believed to be author and theologian C.S. Lewis (Matthew Goode), in a lengthy session in which the duo discussed a variety of big issue subjects. In writer-director Matt Brown’s hypothetical meeting between them, viewers witness the two visionaries debate such topics as atheism vs. faith, science vs. religion/spirituality, the nature of fear, their respective backgrounds (including the personal demons that have haunted them) and their relationships with family members. Their conversations are both mesmerizing and revelatory, uncovering aspects of each of them that most of us probably never knew.

In the course of these dialogues, it becomes apparent that this session was as much for Freud’s benefit as it was for Lewis, given that the good doctor was in the late stages of oral cancer and contemplating how to make peace with his impending death. The exchanges between the two delve into some very heady material, the kind of discussions that movies rarely, if ever, deal with in such depth, especially as pointedly and insightfully as they’re depicted here. Their byplay is intercut with a series of flashbacks, providing the back story about how they each arrived at their respective points in their lives, leaving little doubt as to where they were coming from, as well as why they each harbored inherently conflicting viewpoints that led them both to continually question the nature of their lives, their existence and their place in the Universe.

Before the session begins, Freud expresses reservations about it, almost as if he’d rather not engage in it. From that hesitancy, it would seem he might be sensing what’s to come, and that prospect induces a certain degree of quietly nervous reluctance. But, when Lewis arrives, there’s no backing down, and, before long, he finds himself in the midst of discussions that make him uncomfortable. For instance, in light of his failing health, he knows he must make peace with his looming demise. But, as a man of science and an avowed atheist, he’s hesitant to talk about subjects like the afterlife and the existence of a divine presence, considerations that he may be forced to deal with sooner and in greater depth than he’d like to admit. It’s somewhat ironic, too, given that Freud is a collector of religious iconography from many of the world’s spiritual traditions, something he unconvincingly dismisses as an intellectual exercise and not as something more. His discomfort with this notion is further enhanced by Lewis’s unapologetically devoted sense of faith and piety, qualities that he makes no effort to hide. His zeal for this topic is apparent, and that freely expressed passion comes across as a direct challenge to Freud’s supposed conviction to his perspective, making the good doctor appear a little less certain about his viewpoint than he’d like anyone to believe.

Part of what’s driving Freud’s discomfort is a well-concealed sense of fear, a subject that provides fertile ground for the duo’s conversation, and this is an area where both parties have their share of issues to examine. For Freud, his fear is being driven by his declining health and the uncertainty that awaits him. Meanwhile, for Lewis, the prospect of another war with Germany shakes him to his core, especially given the impact the previous conflict had on him. Having served as a soldier during World War I, he saw firsthand the devastating impression it left, such as being injured, getting caught in the crossfire, and witnessing up close the death of his compatriot and close friend, Paddy Moore (George Andrew-Clarke), circumstances all depicted in one of the film’s flashbacks. And now, with a new war forthcoming, all of the old terrifying instincts come rushing back, as seen in one sequence when the duo is hurriedly forced to flee Freud’s home and seek safety in an air raid shelter.

The fallout from their respective fears also pushes Freud and Lewis to deal with painful incidents in their personal relationships. For Freud, this surfaces in several contexts, such as the often-dysfunctional relationship that his younger self (Lukas Heyer Sweeney) experienced with his father, Jacob (Tarek Bishara), especially when it came to matters of religion. Then there was the sadness Freud felt as a result of the loss of his daughter, Sophie (Nina Kolomiitseva), a young mother who fell victim to the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918. However, perhaps the biggest challenge came in his arm’s-length relationship with his lesbian daughter, Anna (Liv Lisa Fries), who struggled to maintain a clandestine partnership with her significant other, Dorothy (Jodi Balfour). Freud’s feelings for Anna were particularly complicated, given the hypocritical nature of his views about her sexual orientation, a stance that squarely flew in the face of the supposedly (some might say shockingly) open-minded outlook he publicly maintained about homosexuality at the time. His stern disapproval of her lifestyle put up something of a wall between father and daughter, keeping Anna from moving forward in her life and putting her in a position of always seeking her dad’s approval, actions that strained whatever future she might have with her partner.

Lewis had his share of relationship issues to deal with, too. Having lost his mother at a young age, he was subsequently faced with a father (Gary Buckley) whose inconsolable despondency drove him to disavow most of his parental responsibilities, resulting in his younger self (Oscar Massey) and brother (Lucas Massey) being sent away to boarding school. This disillusionment persisted in his outlook on life for years thereafter, having been resurrected once more through the loss of his friend Paddy, who, in a final dying request, asked Lewis to look after his mother, Janie (Orla Brady). Lewis fulfilled his obligation to his friend, an action that led to a complicated relationship with Janie that he was reluctant to discuss, probably because of the unusual circumstances under which their connection was forged.

Some might find the foregoing material an unusual basis for a movie narrative, and, admittedly, it is somewhat unconventional. Not many films would readily draw upon such profound subjects in coming up with the storyline for their productions. But, given the wisdom and insights to come out of this picture, maybe more of them should. “Freud’s Last Session” gives us much to think about, especially when it comes to the kinds of issues to which we should all probably devote more reflective and thoughtful attention.

The themes covered in this film are, admittedly, some of the biggest considerations we face in life. Given their importance, then, it’s crucial that we get a handle on what we think and believe about them, as they ultimately have a bearing on how things turn out for us, for better or worse. Which is why we should all probably spend more time pondering them than we do in light of the role they play in shaping our existence. It’s not clear how many of us give this much thought (or have even heard of this way of thinking), but, considering the implications, we’d be wise to do so, as this film’s two visionaries do in their insightful dialogue.

Even though Freud is the one theoretically conducting the session, as noted above, given the circumstances under which he was operating at the time of the meeting, its content was probably more for his benefit than for that of his “patient.” As the good doctor was nearing the end of his life, the big issue considerations that he and his colleague discussed were arguably more pressing for him than they were for Lewis. With the clock running out, Freud needed to assess his beliefs in these areas while he still had the time and opportunity to do so, especially since he didn’t seem to be completely sold on the conclusions he had previously drawn for himself.

For instance, on the question of his atheism, Freud often comes across as feeling the need to sell himself on his own beliefs, especially now that death was looming, perhaps because he was having to wrestle with the question of “What if I’ve been wrong all these years?” As someone firmly ensconced in the ways of science, religion and spirituality didn’t seem to offer enough definitive validation and substance to suit his sensibilities. But, if he was so disdainful of those intangible concepts, why did he spend so much time studying them and collecting the artifacts associated with them? Were these efforts meant to be gestures of goodwill, symbols of his willingness to at least give these notions a shot, even if his beliefs didn’t allow him to buy into them wholeheartedly? What’s more, with death waiting in the wings, was doubt about what comes next beginning to creep into his thinking at the eleventh hour? Indeed, could this mark the emergence of a belief that could potentially undermine the viability of his supposedly solid, long-established atheist leanings? And, if so, then what was he supposed to believe now? It’s thus easy to understand how that kind of psychological ambivalence might cause a significant dilemma for someone who was supposed to be all-knowing about the nature of the human psyche.

In turn, could it be that Lewis’s deep entrenchment in his faith represents a further threat to Freud’s thinking, clouding it even more than what he was wrestling with on his own? Spiritual and religious notions seem to come easily and naturally to Lewis, even though they’re based on “unsubstantiated” beliefs and not grounded in supposedly cold, hard, immutable facts. This is something Freud has difficulty accepting, and that lends further fuel to the fire of doubt now seemingly burning in his psyche. Freud can’t help but wonder how readily Lewis gives himself over to this unproven school of thought, especially considering that the concepts behind it are based on the alleged grace of a supposedly loving divine being who had put his patient through so many trying circumstances in his life (the death of his mother in childhood, his wartime turmoil and the lingering fears that grew out of those experiences). Yet Lewis sees that there’s more to religion and spirituality than what Freud believes constitute these concepts, and he willingly gives himself over to them, thereby providing the basis for his belief in them, a leap of faith that leaves the doctor somewhat unnerved.

Comparable dialogues also come up between Freud and Lewis where the subjects of fear, relationships and sexuality are concerned, and the film showcases their respective beliefs in these areas, highlighting their differences of opinion, their areas of concern and their indecision on how to adequately address them. In the end, though, their viewpoints on these subjects again come down to what they believe about them, which, in turn, accounts for what materializes in their respective lives.

Of course, ultimately, the biggest question that arises is, does this discourse provide them with any meaningful answers? In my view, that’s something that comes up for all of us in the end, and we invariably are faced with the same conclusion – that life is its own answer, based on the beliefs that we hold, for they’re responsible for manifesting what we conceive about it. That may sound a bit cryptic to some, but it’s something we each eventually must come to discover for ourselves as we make our way through this thing called life. Existence is indeed what we make of it, based on what we each believe it to be, a notion that carries though right until the very end, as Freud – a man who supposedly has all the answers – comes to discover for himself. Both he and Lewis are left with a sense of wonder about the ethereal nature of reality, but isn’t that part and parcel of what this journey is all about?

Films about ideas are by no means everyone’s cup of tea. But anyone who’s interested in plumbing the depths of life’s big questions is sure to find this an especially engaging offering. Making all of this work are the stellar performances of Hopkins (in one of his best-ever screen roles) and Goode, both of whom are in top form here. Admittedly, given the picture’s source material as a stage play, some may find the film a little wooden at times, and, without a doubt, there are a few occasional hiccups in the flow of the narrative. But, given the richness and depth of the characters’ exchanges, these bumpy little glitches are easily overlooked in favor of the magnitude of what viewers receive in return. Those looking for “entertaining” fare are likely to be disappointed by this offering. But those seeking material that’s “enriching” and substantive will find “Freud’s Last Session” a thoughtful and engaging watch, one that’s certain to give us pause about life’s bigger questions and how they apply to us, all in the hope of providing deeper meaning into why we’re here and what this thing called life is all about. The film is available for streaming online.

Life can be quite a journey, but how many of us actually take the time to examine its profound nature? There’s so much to be understood and so much to be explored, and yet we often only scratch the surface or limit ourselves to narrow windows of experience. Is that enough? And is what we choose to focus on truly sufficient given all of the options available? Would we benefit from casting a wider net to see what best suits us and aligns most effectively with the beliefs that constitute our true selves and inner beings? This film gives us much to consider along those lines. And we’d be wise to consider that.

A complete review is available by clicking here.

Revealing a Chillingly Toxic Truth

An old expression maintains “Don’t believe everything you read in the newspapers.” It’s an adage that seems to have taken on increasing relevancy these days, too. But there was a time not all that long ago when many in the public were willing to accept without question whatever information was reported in the media. Fortunately, there were those who were astute enough to recognize when things didn’t add up and were willing to raise their voices in protest. Granted, those courageous individuals may have been in the minority at the time, and they may have had to wait quite a while before their viewpoints were vindicated. But, as time has shown, they were right to speak up and make others aware of what they knew, as seen in the compelling new documentary, “Radioactive: The Women of Three Mile Island” (web site, trailer).

At 4:00 am on March 28, 1979, an incident occurred at the Three Mile Island nuclear power plant near Harrisburg, PA. A mechanical failure led to a partial meltdown of the facility’s Unit 2 reactor and the release of radioactive gases and radioactive iodine into the surrounding environment through a stuck-open relief valve. However, in the interest of calming public fears and preventing widespread panic, the utility company that operated the plant, Metropolitan Edison, and government agencies issued reassuring messages through the media contending there was no reason for alarm.

If only that had been true.

Before long, local residents began getting sick – really sick in many cases. Various forms of cancer began appearing in growing numbers. And, in other instances, especially among youngsters, victims began evidencing symptoms consistent with radiation poisoning. Suddenly, those official statements that there was nothing wrong turned suspect, especially among those who ended up caring for their sick loved ones – the women of the area.

When Harrisburg’s mothers began comparing notes, they began to see troubling patterns emerging, particularly among those who lived in the paths of the released radioactivity. The 2½-mile-wide recommended evacuation zone, for example, seemed insufficient when effects of the released radioactivity began to extend beyond that range. They started organizing, mounting a campaign to push officials to come clean about what really happened. Leading the effort were four determined women – Linda Braasch, Joyce Corradi, Beth Drazba and Paula Kinney – particularly when they saw friends, neighbors and family members falling ill. The prevalence of these conditions was simply too great to be mere coincidence, despite the repeated public reassurances.

The women took on corporate and government officials to get answers, but they were often stonewalled or dismissed. In fact, just by virtue of being women, their claims weren’t taken seriously, becoming targets of blatant gender discrimination, a practice that went much more unchecked in the 1970s than today. They were condescendingly encouraged to go back home and bake cookies like good little housewives. And, in something of an ironic twist of fate, they did just that, returning to their kitchens to prepare those confectionary creations – but as a means to fuel fundraisers to ramp up their legal efforts for challenging members of officialdom. Indeed, deliberate, overt acts of sarcasm can have quite an impact in raising awareness.

Despite the monolithic nature of the official party line, some members of the media were skeptical when they began to see how some aspects of the story didn’t tally, lending some much-needed credence to the claims of skeptics. Such was the case with newcomer reporter Michèle LeFever Quinn, who was covering the story for WKBO radio. She initially believed the official story that the issue was sufficiently contained. But, two days later, when information about the accident began emerging in greater detail, she saw that the magnitude of the incident was far greater than almost anyone was officially admitting. And, 45 years later, that point is driven home by the fact that LeFever Quinn is the only surviving member of her reporting team from that time.

In another poignantly timed development, the four women activists got an unexpectedly fortuitous boost for their efforts from Hollywood. Approximately two weeks before the incident, one of the movie industry’s biggest and most critically acclaimed films of 1979 opened in wide release – “The China Syndrome,” a taut drama about an unsafe nuclear power plant on the verge of melting down starring Jane Fonda, Jack Lemmon and Michael Douglas. The irony of life imitating art here was not lost on a significant segment of those who had their doubts about the official story of Three Mile Island. And, given that the picture’s cast featured such a notable, outspoken cast member as Fonda, the truth-seeking advocates had a ready-made ally willing to back them in their efforts, both locally and on a national scale, when it came to calling out the inherent dangers of nuclear power. This represented a powerful clarion call that was signaled first artistically and subsequently, and tragically, in real life.

As time passed, the stakes were continually raised in this standoff between the activists and officialdom. Braasch, Corradi, Drazba, Kinney and their followers engaged the support of lawyers like Joanne Doroshow to press their case in court. Even though Doroshow was new to the legal profession at that time, that relative lack of experience didn’t stop her from pursuing this cause, one that eventually made it to the Supreme Court. And, even though the sought-after legal outcomes didn’t live up to hoped-for expectations (primarily due to a lack of definitive measurable evidence to support the plaintiffs’ contentions), these initiatives helped raise new awareness about the potential perils of nuclear power. This new skepticism for the technology’s innate shortcomings helped to reshape the industry’s future, leading to the scrapping of plans for many new power plants that were on the drawing boards at the time. This development may not have made up for the losses of Three Mile Island, but it probably helped lessen the prospects of future disasters. And who said there wasn’t any benefit to come out of baking cookies?

Given the circumstances of this situation, it may initially come across like the classic David and Goliath scenario. At first glance, the notion of four everyday housewives with limited resources taking on clout-laden corporate and government giants may seem like a hopeless cause, one surely destined to fail. But those who are overconfident of certain victory should not be so quick to judge, as their opponents might have more fight in them than they’re aware of.

So what’s the factor working in the underdogs’ favor here? It’s their faith and conviction in their beliefs. As the Three Mile Island story unfolded, they began to see that their suspicions were correct. And their belief in this outlook was enough to sustain them as they carried forward with their cause. While their efforts didn’t yield all of the outcomes they hoped for, they nevertheless made a significant mark through their efforts. Their staunchly held beliefs provided the impetus for this, as they’re the foundation of what’s responsible for the manifestation of the existence we experience. It’s not clear whether any of these activists were aware of this school of thought when they carried out their mission, but, considering the impact they had, it’s obvious they recognized its underlying principles and how to make use of them in tackling their quest.

A variety of beliefs played into the materialization of the results they achieved. For starters, given the magnitude of the incident and its implications, the women and members of the community at large had nothing to lose by taking on this challenge. Their lives and those of countless others in the Harrisburg area were at stake, so nothing was to be gained by staying silent and holding back. Granted they faced an uphill battle by speaking up, but wasn’t making the effort to do something a better option than simply capitulating to those responsible for these conditions? That belief in itself provided a powerful basis for moving ahead.

Even though the four women had never tackled anything like this before, that didn’t mean they couldn’t learn how. This inexperience did not hold them back. And, when they needed guidance and support, they sought it out from knowledgeable sources, seeking the necessary help, courting allies and effectively getting the word out. In turn, the newfound friends they made during this process led to even greater backing for their cause, enabling them to draw upon the power of collaboration and co-creation to drive matters forward. By winning over additional believers, they strengthened their initiatives to get them noticed, including by those who would have rather simply ignored them.

In undertaking this effort, the activists also got creative in the steps they took, eliminating limitations and thinking outside the box. This is perhaps best exemplified by their cookie-baking efforts. Not only did this venture help to raise funds for their work, but it also drew attention to the inappropriate, condescending responses they received when they raised their voices. Sometimes a little retributive sarcasm can go a long way in making a point, putting some well-earned shame back on those who made these uncalled-for statements in the first place. As many saw at the time, this kind of in-your-face response can indeed have quite an impact.

The kitchen initiative was also important in other ways. Like the women’s overall effort to take on the powers-that-be, this gesture made a powerful feminist statement as well. At a time when this movement was gaining strength, the activists took a longstanding stereotypical “women’s activity” and turned it on its ear, an act of defiance that not only challenged increasingly outmoded notions, but also helped to bankroll a larger, more meaningful cause, the kind that women previously typically hadn’t taken on. Talk about smart cookies.

The women didn’t leave anything on the table, either. Drawing upon the impact of the fortuitously timed release of “The China Syndrome” provided them with another weapon in their publicity arsenal. And believing in the value of winning over a high-profile, highly vocal ally like Jane Fonda certainly helped, too.

This combination of beliefs, followed up by appropriate actions in line with these notions, helped to make the case for the activists and their cause. Admittedly, their efforts and the truths they sought to expose may not have received the attention and media coverage they deserved at the time. But, as evidenced by what happened to the future of the nuclear industry in the ensuing years, their work clearly had meaningful influence. And, thanks to this film, those diligent efforts have finally surfaced, providing them with their just due at last.

As the film indicates, the work involving the long-term effects of the Three Mile Island incident continues, even 45 years afterward. However, that’s understandable given how long radiation lingers after the fact. Everything of significance of a nuclear nature may not yet have emerged, even after all this time. If you doubt that, consider a line from “The China Syndrome,” when a nuclear expert observes (quite ironically in hindsight) that a full-scale meltdown at the power plant featured in the film could “render an area the size of Pennsylvania permanently uninhabitable, not to mention the cancer that would show up later.” The importance of vigilance, even now, remains clear.

Given the blatantly self-serving attempts at spin, unrepentant obfuscation and outright lying that we see so much of these days coming from officialdom, big business and the media, it’s no wonder that so many of us have become fed up with such brazenly untruthful tactics. And it’s not just activists and advocates saying this – it’s a growing sentiment from everyday citizens who’ve tired of the practice of unbridled deliberate deception. Such actions may have been harder to spot years ago, but, when life-threatening circumstances are on the line, it’s inspiring to see how quickly and fervently riled-up individuals can get. That was the case with what happened in the wake of the 1979 Three Mile Island nuclear accident, when it became obvious that falsely reassuring messages about the allegedly trivial nature of the incident began to become apparent to the Pennsylvania locals who resided in the danger zone and suffered the consequences that came from it. A groundswell of protests spearheaded by four courageous women and their ardent attorneys emerged, even if those efforts did not receive much fanfare at the time.

However, this debut documentary feature from writer-director Heidi Hutner, a professor of sustainability studies at Stony Brook University, effectively changes all that by bringing the stories of these determined advocates to light – as well as making known just how serious this downplayed incident really was. Through a series of interviews with the movement’s principals, as well as a wealth of archive footage from the time, audiences witness what these individuals went through personally and as leaders of a campaign where they met pervasive resistance, condescending gender discrimination and ongoing intimidation from corporate and government sources. This offering also features first-time interviews with an insider/whistleblower who worked at the plant and with actress/social activist Jane Fonda. Hutner’s release, which has now become available for streaming, on home media and at special screenings, presents a powerful, damning indictment of how ineptly this incident was handled and a heroic profile of the outspoken champions who were willing to go all-out, despite the obstacles, to make their case known. Even if they didn’t garner the attention they deserved at the time, this film helps to make up for that, shining a bright light on the reckless carelessness of those willing to place their own interests ahead of the welfare of innocent victims – and how those victims fought back to make their voices heard about it. 

In this day and age, nothing is to be gained by staying silent any more. Even if vocal critics must struggle to be heard, speaking up is still worth the effort, especially when high-stakes ramifications and consequences are involved. The women in this film may not be household names, but the example they set – both in the past and in their continuing efforts these days – are certainly notable and praiseworthy. They should inspire us all to expose the toxic truths out there before they turn toxic on us.

A complete review is available by clicking here.

Copyright © 2024, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.