Most of us don't like our private spaces invaded by
strangers who we think might hurt us; so we tend to put
off going to the dentist, whose probing, drilling,
pulling and pushing, in one of our most tender private
zones, feels like more than a mere physical assault.
But eventually rationality prevails; we accept that
sacrificing our privacy and enduring some minor
discomfort will repay us later -- helping us retain our
native teeth, lessening our risk of unexpected
nocturnal toothaches, chronic gum erosion, and the
social consequences of poor oral hygiene, from "bad
breath" that not even our so-called friends will tell
us about!
But we think of Marriage differently, at first
anyway. Instead of feeling it's a necessary,
uncomfortable sacrifice (like going to the dentist), as
young hopeful romantics we buy in to the socially
promoted fantasy that getting married will enable us to
capture and prolong indefinitely the bliss of our
romantic courtship and youthful sexual coupling; or if
we try to be a little more rational, we hope that
Marriage will at least provide a secure, happy setting
for us to raise children, advance our careers, and keep
growing both personally and in the relationship.
Both Marriage and visits to the dentist entail
opening our private space to others, and hence require
a huge measure of Trust. Opening our mouth to a masked
character bearing sharp instruments, we hope that
behind the white coat he's not secretly a Nazi
torturer. We trust that we will awaken from being
gassed, alive and unmolested. And, likewise, in
marrying, tying our entire lives and future to someone
we don't (and can't, if we're both young) know very
well -- takes a big leap of Faith.
Of course, it doesn't always work out as we hoped.
Sometimes, even with regular dental care, our teeth get
damaged anyway. We bite down on a small rock or
encounter a bicycle handle bar the wrong way; or decay
attacks from inside and the nerve root has to be
drilled out -- the denervated, numb tooth is now technically
dead, but still may do its job for a while.
"Teeth can survive death, it's life that damages
teeth." [approximate quote from movie]
Like chewing on cinders, family life can grind us
down. Raising rowdy, selfish children, working at a
hectic job to earn money, trying to be a partner to an
anxious spouse can leave one feeling his/her private
life has totally eroded away. The marriage we hoped
would grow and last forever, after some time comes to
feel like a straight jacket within which we shrink and
wither. The fantasy feelings fade and turn bitter.
In The Secret Lives of Dentists, Dana and David
Hurst are married dentists who share a practice -- they
fix teeth in the same office and raise a family
together at home; but they aren't very good at sharing
their secrets. Both secretly wish for a wilder, more
romantic life, but are so locked in sterile day to day
routines, they can't tell the other about their
frustrations. Dana tries to play out her romantic
longings by singing with an amateur opera group. David
accidentally observes her one evening exchanging a
tender kiss with the group's director, and he (and we)
are pretty sure there's more secret intimacy going on
behind the scenes. So, for the rest of this film, we
are, with David, caught up in his unfolding private
fantasies -- first, recollections of his and Dana's
youthful sexual excitement of 10 years before; then,
his perverse and frightening imaginings of her current
affair with the opera director. In these awful musings,
David is joined by an imaginary sidekick, in the person
of his obstreperous patient, Slater, who is his
"shadow" character, his complementary opposite --
spontaneous, aggressive, and impolite -- he pierces the
emotional murkiness of David's life like an ultrasonic
drill going through a rotten tooth. Where David wants
to hide from the truth, Slater forces him to confront
it brazenly, even recklessly.
But in spite of his insights and intimations of a
dawning emotional maturity, David remains unable to
tell Dana about his fears and needs. And Dana,
feeling he won't hear her, also holds in her secrets. The
partial resolution that comes at the end after they
together confront and surmount yet another family
crisis is only that -- partial and unsatisfying. Both
spouses ultimately turn away from a full sharing of
their feelings. While a semblance of order is restored,
we're left unsettled -- too many doubts have been
raised about these individuals' emotional competence
and about the present-day institution of Marriage for
us to feel they will "live happily ever after." As
through an xray film, we've been shown the shadowy core
of these people's lives; we've seen their emotional
cavities; we've felt their stresses, from working hard
and raising children without the support network that a
traditional society with an extended family structure
would have offered. We're left feeling pretty
pessimistic about this couple and about the social
situation they exemplify.
Still, The Secret Lives of Dentists is very fun to
watch -- it continually surprises and delights. Though
fantasy elements weave through the story, the
characters all feel authentic and their
awkward/absurd/fearful moments feel totally true to
life. Indeed, the film is so skillfully crafted by
writers and director, so well acted by all the players,
that you may not feel its deeper message immediately --
you will likely get up from the chair smiling. Yet, for
many, this film will have hit a very sensitive nerve.
As you reflect on it, that deeper ache may set in
later.
This movie is based on a 1986 novella by Jane Smiley
called The Age of Grief. You can read her reactions
and reflections after seeing the film, at
Watching My Marriage End on the Big Screen.
Email comments to vamead@well.com
