Ken Harrison, a young sculptor in his early thirties, is seriously injured in a road accident. End of story.
"End of story", that is, in the sense of "end of any physical action". Not in the sense of "end of the film". Ken's life is saved, but he is paralysed from the neck down. When he discovers that he is unlikely ever to regain the use of his limbs he decides that he wants to die and asks the doctors to end the medical treatment which is keeping him alive. The rest of the film is essentially one long debate about the rights and wrongs of euthanasia and the right to die.
Ken's main antagonist in this debate is his doctor, Michael Emerson. Although the case against euthanasia is often presented in religious terms, here it is presented in purely secular ones. If Dr Emerson has any deep religious convictions, these are never expressed in the film. He believes passionately, however, that death is an enemy against which it is his duty as a doctor to fight; to allow a patient effectively to take his own life would represent a surrender to that enemy and a dereliction of that duty. Ken therefore finds himself in a "Catch-22" situation. He must be able to show that he is sane and rational enough to make the decision to end his life. Emerson, however, considers that a wish to die is in itself evidence of insanity and irrationality. Ken's dilemma can only be solved by hiring a lawyer to sue the hospital.
Richard Dreyfuss as Ken and John Cassavetes as Dr Emerson put across their respective points of view skilfully and with sincerity, but this cannot hide the fact that "Whose Life is it Anyway?" simply does not work as a film. At one time filmed versions of stage plays were done in a similar way to theatrical productions but by the seventies and eighties this was often seen as unsatisfactory because of the differences between the two media. When plays were filmed, therefore, the general tendency was to "open them up" by filming on location as well as on studio sets, by taking liberties with the playwright's text, often making significant changes to the plot and even introducing extra characters.
I have never seen Brian Clarke's play, but I suspect that this is a story that would work better in the theatre than in the cinema. There is very little physical action; most of the action consists of lengthy discussions around a hospital bed in which the main character lies paralysed. Such a plot does not lend itself to the "opening up" device at all, and the resulting film is very static, dominated by talk at the expense of action. Although it is well written and there is some good acting, I am surprised that a film was ever made of such an uncinematic subject. 4/10
"End of story", that is, in the sense of "end of any physical action". Not in the sense of "end of the film". Ken's life is saved, but he is paralysed from the neck down. When he discovers that he is unlikely ever to regain the use of his limbs he decides that he wants to die and asks the doctors to end the medical treatment which is keeping him alive. The rest of the film is essentially one long debate about the rights and wrongs of euthanasia and the right to die.
Ken's main antagonist in this debate is his doctor, Michael Emerson. Although the case against euthanasia is often presented in religious terms, here it is presented in purely secular ones. If Dr Emerson has any deep religious convictions, these are never expressed in the film. He believes passionately, however, that death is an enemy against which it is his duty as a doctor to fight; to allow a patient effectively to take his own life would represent a surrender to that enemy and a dereliction of that duty. Ken therefore finds himself in a "Catch-22" situation. He must be able to show that he is sane and rational enough to make the decision to end his life. Emerson, however, considers that a wish to die is in itself evidence of insanity and irrationality. Ken's dilemma can only be solved by hiring a lawyer to sue the hospital.
Richard Dreyfuss as Ken and John Cassavetes as Dr Emerson put across their respective points of view skilfully and with sincerity, but this cannot hide the fact that "Whose Life is it Anyway?" simply does not work as a film. At one time filmed versions of stage plays were done in a similar way to theatrical productions but by the seventies and eighties this was often seen as unsatisfactory because of the differences between the two media. When plays were filmed, therefore, the general tendency was to "open them up" by filming on location as well as on studio sets, by taking liberties with the playwright's text, often making significant changes to the plot and even introducing extra characters.
I have never seen Brian Clarke's play, but I suspect that this is a story that would work better in the theatre than in the cinema. There is very little physical action; most of the action consists of lengthy discussions around a hospital bed in which the main character lies paralysed. Such a plot does not lend itself to the "opening up" device at all, and the resulting film is very static, dominated by talk at the expense of action. Although it is well written and there is some good acting, I am surprised that a film was ever made of such an uncinematic subject. 4/10