When it comes to Hollywood, I can be a pretty tough critic. I tend to drift towards films which highlight the profound significance of the human spirit. Movies with themes of strength, courage, perseverance, and a healthy bit of relatability and humor draw me in with magnetic force. While it is tough to find all of the above in one movie, Good Will Hunting featuring Matt Damon as Will (a brilliantly minded 20-something who finds himself under achieving and in legal trouble) and Robin Williams (Sean, Will’s therapist) has checked all of my boxes since it was first released in 1997.
If you are not familiar with the film, the story line depicts the struggles and triumphs of the two men who, on the surface, could not be more different. Despite the cavernous dichotomies, each is on a similar journey through a maze of experience which leaves them both feeling unlovable, wounded and vulnerable. It is the portrait of the raw human experience that keeps me watching this film over and over again, much like the journeys I am fortunate to witness when I sit in a room with a client.
The following themes are true in both the movie as well as in the therapeutic process.
In the movie, Will is a super-genius. He roams the halls of MIT as a maintenance worker, but when he thinks no one is looking, secretly finds the answer to one of the most difficult mathematical equations (which has remained unsolved by even the most esteemed mathematics professors at the university). When Will finds himself facing prison after his involvement in a fistfight, one of the MIT professors steps in and asks the judge to show leniency and instead allow Will to become an MIT student. The judge agrees, provided Will participate in therapy for his behavioral concerns. Through a series of hilarious vignettes in which Will outsmarts, outwits and outlasts a brood of higher-than-thou doctors of psychology, who fit the classic “sit in the office smoking cigars and reading research studies”, Will finally lands in the office of a humble, authentic and kind man. The storyline unfolds to demonstrate that it is the connection between two people, no matter how different, that enables the safety necessary for healing to occur. It wasn’t the PhD smarty-pants psychiatrist that could reach Will’s pain. It was someone who could relate to his feelings and honor his experience in ways no one had previously acknowledged in Will.
In its infancy, Sean and Will’s relationship is rocky at best. Out of self-protection, Will does all he can to force Sean to terminate him as a client. Will hurls insults, speaks in sarcastic idiosyncrasies, mock’s Sean’s personal artwork, and even sits in belligerent silence in an effort to test Sean’s steadfastness and commitment to him as a client. And yet, Sean remains a grounded and stable force of calm in Will’s ever-chaotic life. It isn’t until Will insults Sean’s late wife who died of cancer some years before does Sean firmly let Will know he has gone too far. It is at this moment viewers see a shift in Will. The boundary that was set gently, yet firmly created a sense of stability, security, predictability and safety. Boundaries with our children, our spouse, our parents, our therapist, and even ourselves is a way we can feel secure enough to let down our walls with those whom we respect and who respect us in
return.
Throughout the movie, we see Will’s tumultuous relationships in every part of his life; from romantic interests, friendships, classmates, authority figures, social acquaintances and even his therapist. Will is essentially trapped in his own chaotic way of relating to others, not because he is a bad person, but because he has been so deeply wounded in his past that he can’t bear to get close to anyone in the present, for fear he will be pained once more. Will felt unavailable, useless, worthless and even afraid. Yet through the therapeutic process (and let’s face it, a lot of hard work), Will is able to eventually acknowledge his pain and begin to let others in. First his therapist, then a friend. Will slowly begins to recognize that he too was meant to live in relationship with others. Will learned not just his value but experienced freedom from the wounds of the past.
While the process wasn’t easy for Will and may be a bumpy road for our clients, you don’t have to journey alone. We want nothing more than for you to experience grace, acceptance, support, understanding and guidance in a way that feels authentic and collaborative so that you can truly live free from the past. At LiveFree, we are committed to walking alongside you on whatever journey you happen to find yourself. To schedule a therapy appointment with Brooke Patterson or one of our licensed therapists at LiveFree Counseling. Please call 720.465.6180 for more information.
Good Will Hunting, dir. Gus Van Sant. Miramax, 1997. Film.
