"Some women are lost in the fire. Some women are built from it."
—Michelle K.
The Fire Within Blog
Cake More Like Stale Twinkie for People With Pain

“Cake” for this woman in pain didn’t deliver the recipe for the true pain experience. In fact, it more resembled a stale Twinkie.

When John and I were invited to an advanced screening of “Cake” a couple of weeks back, I felt there was a lot riding on this movie because the pain community is in such need of a sensitive, authentic portrayal of what we’re surviving every day.

To be honest, I didn’t expect to like the movie much – because I saw it as a star-vehicle for Jennifer Aniston, an actress who I’ve never enjoyed watching. Also, I’d seen trailers for the film that underwhelmed me – and the early reviews were mixed at best.

What surprised me was that I thought Aniston did a commendable job playing chronic pain – but in every other aspect, “Cake” missed the mark. I was left with the impression that the filmmakers (screenplay writer, director and producers) didn’t care to understand the pain experience. Worse yet, they reinforced most every negative stereotype that perpetuates misunderstanding and lack of compassion for those of us with pain.

***SPOILER ALERT***

“Cake” is about a woman suffering from physical and emotional pain after a car accident. The physical pain is a result of what appears to be a back injury – and the emotional (what we don’t know until the third act) is caused by losing her young son in said accident.

Most of the complexities of the pain experience were absent or pasted over. Aniston’s fictional character, Claire, had only been in pain for a year which made it convenient for the filmmakers to deliver a cookie-cutter story arc of loss and redemption.

In that standard telling, they chose to take the easy, well-worn path of making Claire appear to be a self-destructive drug addict, popping opioids right and left – even going to Mexico to obtain copious amounts illegally. To a more educated viewer, we understand the difference between addiction and pseudo-addiction – but to the vast majority of viewers, this nuance will be lost.

Further, Claire comes across as bitter and mean, driving away most everyone including her husband. She even gets kicked out of her chronic pain support group. HELLO! This doesn’t remotely reflect the true pain experience – where most everyone abandons us because we don’t get better or die, and they’d rather run for the hills than face their guilt and helplessness. To be fair, we with pain are prone to anger and depression, but most isolation-making comes from loved ones turning their backs.

Perhaps most off-putting was that for three-quarters of the film Claire didn’t appear to have any desire to get better. She’s self-pitying, miserable and defeated – more unenlightened cliché. In my 32-years of pain and 13+ in pain advocacy work, I have yet to meet a person who wouldn’t give or do anything to get better. I was insulted for each of us who has the strength and courage to get up and face another day.

With this last point, adding insult to injury, Claire has a sudden change of heart. And in the final scene, after de-toxing from her meds, a symbolic choice by Claire reassures the audience that all will be well – and that her problems were simply mind over matter.

What a lovely fairy tale.

Some might say I’m throwing the baby out with the bath water – that any expression of the chronic pain experience is good for our community (e.g., “a conversation starter.”) I don’t agree. Bottom line – this was a high-profile opportunity to bring better understanding, compassion and awareness to our plight – and this film failed utterly.

Btw – if you’re looking for an authentic chronic pain telling, check out “Frida”, the 2002 movie that depicts the true-life story of artist/woman in pain Frida Kahlo. In a word, brilliant.

XO Cynthia