The Culture Beat

Twenty-three years ago, I suffered a personal tragedy. And there were plenty of people around me to tell me how to get over it and by what timeframe. “You should be getting over this by now.” We’re uncomfortable with grief; expressions of it make us nervous. If we can fix the problem, then maybe we won’t have to listen to the pain that reminds us that we’re human, that fragility lays much more in our mortality than it does in our bones.

Reign Over Me, directed by Mike Bender, explores grief and our need to fix it. At the same time, it explores our need to hide, to make sure we don’t get hurt.

Alan Johnson (Don Cheadle) is a dentist, married with two girls, who feels stifled by his wife Janeane (Jada Pinkett Smith). Janeane gives voice to a good amount of married women: her husband won’t communicate with her. Alan has issues in his life that move from annoyances to career-busters in mere litigious seconds. Then he runs into his old college roommate, Charlie Fineman (Adam Sandler). Despite his name, Charlie is not fine. His wife, three daughters, and the family dog were on one of the planes on 9/11, and Charlie can’t get over it. The way he deals with his pain is to retreat into a world without family, without responsibility (he also had been a dentist), and almost without thought. His life is so simple and so withdrawn – so socially awkward – that he at times resembles an autistic person. Although he doesn’t remember Alan at first, he eventually recalls their friendship and wants to pick up where they left off. Driving around on Charlie’s scooter, buying vinyl records, playing video games, and watching all-night movie marathons suit Alan’s needs just fine.

But Alan has more in mind than these simple pleasures. He wants to help Charlie recover. If Alan gets too close to the stinging wound, however, Charlie flies into a violent rage, making help impossible. It’s not help he wants, but oblivion. As someone tells Alan, the reason Charlie wants Alan’s friendship is because Alan is safe. He didn’t know the wife and kids, so he won’t ask about them. The question becomes, then, can Alan just let Charlie be. As the psychologist (Liv Tyler) keeps repeating, can these people who love Charlie let him find his own way.

Adam Sandler is a natural in this role. Because of his earlier successes with such films as Billy Madison, it might be more of a stretch to imagine him as a successful dentist as opposed to this bumbling child-man. This is not to belittle his performance, though. When Charlie decides to tell his story to Alan, the way his face breaks into grief resonates with those who have experienced heavy grief themselves. Don Cheadle has the much less intriguing role, but he handles it well, making us feel the quiet desperation of the bored man who doesn’t quite understand why he’s bored. When he stands up to his partners, demanding their respect, we feel like cheering right along with Charlie, who has pumped him up for this moment.

Reign Over Me isn’t without flaw. It’s a bit too long, and some will undoubtedly feel manipulated by the use of the 9/11 tragedy. But the soundtrack fits the film well, and when Pearl Jam sings the title song (“Love, Reign O’er Me” by The Who), it doesn’t get much better. It is love that will reign over hurt and bring healing. Especially when we finally trust enough to tell our stories.