Hollywood has long presented psychotherapists and analysts as villains or saintly saviors, but around the turn of the century they became central characters in a handful of popular and hilarious comedies.
Consider “Analyze This” (1999) and its sequel “Analyze That” (2002), both starring Billy Crystal and Robert De Niro. Then there’s “What About Bob?” (1991), pairing Bill Murray and Richard Dreyfuss. These are light and fun comedies, but there’s a surprising depth to these movies from a psychological perspective. They’re worth revisiting today.
In these films, the observer is also the observed. In fact, it’s the patients who get the better of the analyst, who while appearing calm, collected and skillful, suffers a rude awakening during the course of treatment.
The analyst comes to realize not only how little he knew or understood of his patients, but also ironically how little he knew of himself. In both hilarious and humbling ways these storylines enlighten both patient and analyst as they forge bonds in the most unlikely settings.
In “Analyze This,” Crystal plays Ben Sobel, a therapist recruited to help mob kingpin Paul Vitti (De Niro) deal with his panic attacks. Dr. Ben soon becomes embroiled in his client’s illegal and violent escapades. Dr. Ben ends up committing boundary violations he would never have dreamed of in his everyday humdrum life, even clashing with the FBI.
Despite it all, an empathic protective relationship evolves. Both analyst and patient are changed for the better.
In “What About Bob?” another wonderful and heartwarming comedy, Dreyfuss limns Dr. Leo Marvin, a grandiose, self-involved analyst caught up in the self-promotion of his latest book. Only to be humbled by his patient Bob Wiley (Murray), who simply idealizes him, despite Dr. Leo’s narcissism and lack of genuine interest in him.
Dr. Leo cannot wait for Bob to leave after every session, yet remains happy to take his money — and even shamelessly sells him a copy of his book. What he doesn’t bargain for is Bob’s obsessive-compulsive behavior.
Bob seeks out Dr. Leo at the family vacation home, where the analyst’s wife and children fall for his warm and naïve personality.
When the good doctor arrives home he is horrified not only to find his patient with his wife and children — beckoning and encouraging him to come “join the family for dinner” — but also sees that they adore the mentally unstable Bob and cannot understand Dr. Leo’s frustration with him. This transformational moment highlights the importance of the family’s need for connection and communication, and the pain the father’s detachment has on them.
The wife and children beg their father to let Bob stay, a poignant moment in the movie that arguably may be a healing moment for all. Once again, the lives of all are transformed for the better.
The detached analyst recognizes what his family has been missing all along; he’s a vulnerable man who truly needs his family, a realization only to be revealed by his very own patient Bob.
In “Analyze This” and “That” we see a similar theme, including a discovery that a mob boss finds his heartfelt human need for connection. His panic attacks became a thread to unravel his fallibility as well as revealing his capacity for intimacy that his profession had locked away until his body and spirit alerted him that more was needed in the way of an authentic relationship, in this case with Dr. Ben.
Dr. Robert D Stolorow wrote with insight in one of his papers that the observer is also the observed. Debunking the old notion that the therapist was some type of authority but that together the therapist and patient become “more” than the isolated lives of two individuals.
Regardless of whether the directors and writers were aware of their movies’ real-life psychological perspectives, this reflection by Stolorow was never more present than in these entertainments.
Despite initial resistances (often on the part of the analysts) something more expansive and poignant touches the patient-therapist relationship.
Sometimes allowing oneself to be touched or moved by things we cannot understand or comprehend brings greater rewards in relational ways than can ever be imagined.