While therapy plays a major part in American film and television, Bollywood’s treatment of mental health issues beggars belief
Not many shows return after a decade and manage to recapture that old urgency straight off the bat (David Lynch’s Twin Peaks is a notable exception). But HBO’s In Treatment did just that over the last couple of months with its fourth season, starring Uzo Aduba as Dr. Brooke Taylor. Between 2008 and 2010, Gabriel Byrne played Dr. Paul Weston, a successful Baltimore psychotherapist who tends to a variety of patients every season.
Also Read | Get ‘First Day First Show’, our weekly newsletter from the world of cinema, in your inbox. You can subscribe for free here
Every episode covered one therapy session and every season juggles the stories of 5-6 patients on an average, including of Paul himself who intermittently engages his own former mentor, Dr. Gina Toll (Dianne Wiest). This same format is followed with a slight tweak in the fourth season — instead of a therapist, Dr. Taylor has a sponsor (she was addicted to alcohol once) named Rita (Liza Colón-Zayas), who’s more of a friend and mentor.
Courageous depictions
In Treatment was and is an immersive piece of storytelling with some fine performances — Irrfan Khan in the third season, for example. It’s also a reminder of the fact that therapy, whether in its individual or group avatars, has become a major theme in American film and television in the 21st century. The Marvel universe (always a good barometer for tropes), for example, has taken this very seriously of late. Trauma and grief therapy were a big part of its recent series The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. And, of course, the biggest Marvel film of them all, Avengers: Endgame, begins with a scene set at a grief support group being led by Captain America (Chris Evans) himself.
The Sopranos (1999-2007), one of the turning points of American television, took the lead in thoughtful, courageous depictions of therapy: the good, the bad and the downright scary — because the patient here was, of course, New Jersey mob boss Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini). The Sopranos ushered in the era of anti-heroes to TV, and Tony Soprano’s therapy sessions with Dr. Jennifer Melfi (Lorraine Bracco) were how the audiences initially humanised an unsympathetic, frequently violent protagonist. Dr. Melfi helps Tony with his recurring panic attacks, ironically, by reminding him of the key traits that make him such a ruthlessly effective gang leader: vision, foresight, and decisiveness. The bodies continue to pile up but Tony noticeably improves at first. “We have to repeat the familiar, even if it’s bad for us,” as Dr. Melfi tells him at one point.
Eventually, of course, Dr. Melfi distances herself from Tony’s actions, telling him she feels her therapy is enabling him and his violence.
The scepticism about therapy itself is a formal feature, almost, of these stories — In Treatment’s third season, for example, sees Dr. Weston doubting the very fundamentals of his practice. Similar sentiments have, more recently, been expressed for comedic effect in feel-good shows like Apple’s Ted Lasso and NBC/Netflix’s Brooklyn Nine-Nine.
Asking the right questions
In the second season of Ted Lasso (which began a couple of weeks ago), the titular protagonist, a good-natured American football coach, says he has a “Midwestern scepticism” towards therapy, when confronted with the prospect of a sports psychologist (Sarah Niles) working with his players. In the sixth season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine (the eighth and last season of which will start later this
Andy Samberg as Jake Peralta in a still from Brooklyn Nine-Nine
| Photo Credit: Special arrangement
month) we see a similarly sceptical protagonist, Jake Peralta (Andy Samberg). Episode 11, titled ‘The Therapist’, sees Peralta repeatedly denying that he needs therapy, until he has a conversation (albeit at gunpoint) with a veteran therapist wherein he admits that he blames himself for his parents’ divorce. The breakthrough prompts him to seek help on an ongoing basis, a big move for the happy-go-lucky character who was hitherto content using off-kilter humour as a coping mechanism.
Alas, if only I could report similar breakthroughs in the Indian film and TV/streaming worlds. Flawed as the answers were, the Alia Bhatt-starrer Dear Zindagi at least asked the right questions about mental health, broadly speaking. However, the second season of The Family Man has arguably reversed those gains and set the discourse back by a decade. The character of a counsellor (played by the late Asif Basra) in this season has been written so carelessly and insensitively that it beggars belief. Not only is the counsellor incompetent and generally clueless, he also appears to be rather cavalier about the well-being of his clients. Given the preponderance of mental health issues in the 25-40 demographic in India, one sincerely hopes that Bollywood cleans up its act in this context soon.
Aditya Mani Jha is a writer and journalist working on his first book of non-fiction.
Stay connected with us on social media platform for instant update click here to join our Twitter, & Facebook
We are now on Telegram. Click here to join our channel (@TechiUpdate) and stay updated with the latest Technology headlines.
For all the latest Entertainment News Click Here
For the latest news and updates, follow us on Google News.