ManicMay 23, 2003
Lyle Jensen is subject to sudden and violent outbursts, and he is committed to the juvenile wing of the Northwood Mental Institution…
Release Year: 2001
Rating: 7.4/10 (4,749 voted)
Critic's Score: 60/100
Stars: Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Michael Bacall, Zooey Deschanel
Lyle Jensen is subject to sudden and violent outbursts, and he is committed to the juvenile wing of the Northwood Mental Institution. Several other youths are there with a variety of serious problems. Lyle interacts with other patients and staff on a human, and sometimes not so human level. The psychological problems of the patients also forms the fabric by which we see what's right with them, and what's wrong with the society that affects them.
Writers: Michael Bacall, Blayne Weaver
Emergency Room Nurse
Dr. David Monroe
Lydell M. Cheshier
You can't escape yourself.
Release Date: 23 May 2003
Filming Locations: Camarillo, California, USA
Opening Weekend: $7,628
(27 April 2003)
(15 June 2003)
Did You Know?
Shot with the Sony PD150 digital video camera.
Sex is meaningful.
Dr. David Monroe:
You've had sex?
As Well-Constructed As A Poem
There wasn't a soul working on this film who did not produce brilliant,
genuinely communicative work that demonstrates exactly what the art of
filmmaking is at its very best. And it was only the very clear and obvious
display of such tight creative genius at work that kept reminding me that
this was actually a film instead of real life recorded at an institution by
an inmate with an ever-intrusive video camera. In my life I have known
youths suffering from the uncontrollable volatility of a rage as extreme as
shown in the film, and just as justifiable as their defensive reaction to
the powerful external forces that have waged against them their whole lives.
When any biological creature, animal or human, is backed helpless and
wounded into a corner, what solution is there other than to bare one's fangs
and claws and fight to the death? What can really be done to help people
like that get out of their trap, to reverse their ever-spinning deeper into
themselves until they have irretrievably locked themselves into madness?
From this film I can see why the same word, madness, is used to describe
both anger and mental illness.
Lyle, the lead character vividly realized by actor Joseph Gordon-Levitt, was
certainly mad, although his face ingeniously was always comported into an
expression of a questioning sadness and resignation, like he was rather
surprised that life had turned out to be this way. And he was violent,
although for those who are squeamish, his violence was never really clearly
shown face-on, but was revealed in an almost subliminal way via quick frames
that suggested a fiery atmosphere of angry voices, relentless punches, and
splatters of blood–this is the world he has lived in externally and now it
demonizes his inner world. And the actor, even when at rest, continued to
maintain the demeanor of a coiled spring so tightly wound that it was a
wonder his body didn't implosively burst or rip itself apart like a case of
tetanus. And yet he was entirely sympathetic, and the groundwork for that
sympathy was laid the very first moment when we met him, getting his wounds
dressed in a medical clinic. The camera moved behind him and casually
revealed him sitting there in a hospital gown that had fallen open in the
rear, revealing a vulnerable, skinny back its spinal cord nodules, a smooth
back that perhaps his mother when he was a baby or a current lover ought to
have soothingly and reassuringly rubbed, if only there had ever been someone
who had actually loved him.
I wondered at an institution that so casually mixed up different patients
with such diverse problems–the criminally violent with those who cut only
themselves, or the changeably manic with those who have an almost invisible
self-esteem, or, the relentlessly demeaning with those who are deeply
suffering to the point of catatonia or austism. And yet it soon became
clear that beyond the realistic and compassionate guidance of a truly
dedicated counselor (played to standing-ovation intensity by Don Cheadle),
the only hope for them was to be stimulated into opening their hearts to
each other and in this way discovering meaning beyond their personal
The patients in the adult ward separated from the youths by a chain-link
fence seemed to be irretrievably lost; the freedom of the crows that soon
became a symbol of flight out their tight corners for the youths, became
only a mocking crowing absorbed by one of the adults. Madness in this
institution metaphorically became a clear, legible story, such as the
beautiful girl who hid herself behind black lipstick and heavy black
eye-liner, or the boy who relentlessly tried to build a house of cards, and
yet never seemed to manage to set up the first three.
Without a doubt one of the best scenes was a spontaneous mosh pit that
erupted around the playing of a cassette of the Deftones. As I am at least
one whole generation older than kids who would smash around in a mosh pit,
it might be easy for me to be repelled by this kind of music and scene, and
instead I am fascinated and can see how perfectly expressive and either
dangerously visceral or benevolently cathartic such music really is and this
scene in the film, which to me was like a ballet, was enlightening on many
levels. Ultimately, it is clear that the suffering of these youths in the
mental institution is metaphorical of the suffering that we all experience
in real life and demands a relief of some kind–rage against the machine,
All in all, Manic is a movie for those who truly care about the craft of
film, care about collaborative, creative skill that can come from a work of
the heart, care about humanity's relief from suffering, and care about
compassionate answers for otherwise seemingly unsolvable problems. For all
these reasons, I highly recommend this film.