News about art and medicine
This section, edited by Henk Maassen, features reviews of current novels, films, music, theater, exhibitions and poetry in which medicine plays a role every two weeks on Saturdays. But, since we are a Dutch side in origin, films will probably be the main topic in the English version of Scoop.
May 17, 2025
Film
The salt path
Homeless on the Walk with Corticobasal Degeneration
The Salt Path was a – justified – bestseller, the film adaptation of the book is now proving to be a “hit” as well. In the book, Raynor Winn tells how she and her husband Moth – their college-age children are out of the house – lost all their possessions in 2013 due to a disastrous investment; they became destitute and homeless. And that at the moment when, to make matters worse, Moth was diagnosed with Corticobasal Degeneration (CBD), a rare progressive brain disease that usually starts with motor problems or with speech and thinking disorders. Those motor problems are always on one side of the body. In Moth’s case, this manifests itself in a tremor in his arm and a dragging leg. Prognosis, according to the neurologist in the film: four to five more years of life with, in the long run, sharply declining quality of life. Chance of cure nil, palliative care indicated. A walk along the English southwest coast may seem like the last thing on your mind, but that is precisely what both decide to do after all these job tidings. Call it a form of escapism.
In short, nonlinear flashbacks, we learn what preceded their trek, while chronologically following their trajectory in the meantime, and see how they sometimes struggle against the elements, Moth’s illness and lack of money, but they are also elated, don’t give up and are still in love. And how they have brief encounters along the way, with otherwise not always nice types.
The film is the feature debut of Marianne Elliott, who previously worked as a theater director. All the more remarkable how well she portrays the walk – which, of course, stands for more than just that – with great feeling for atmosphere, nature and landscape with panache but at a leisurely pace. For this she could count on two great actors: Gillian Anderson and Jason Isaacs, who in sparse dialogues portray convincing, sympathetic characters, the former often and oh so understandably worried, the latter optimistically-laconical about their fate.
And lo and behold, the latter gets it right: when Moth abandons his pregabalin, it initially leads to nasty withdrawal symptoms, but eventually he does better. And that continues to this day, the creators report in the end credits. Both are still doing well.
Whether one may infer that it was nature that healed them, that they were “salted” as it is called in film and book, is doubtful. What is certain is that the film’s subtext, thankfully not obvious, is that life is contingent, like a trajectory or journey without purpose. And that is something in which apparently many viewers (and readers) recognize themselves.
Henk Maassen
May 3, 2025
Film
Quiet Life
Katatoon after refusal of asylum: a new syndrome?
In Quiet Life, young Katja meets a curious fate. After her family is told that they will be deported from Sweden, Katja falls into a state most reminiscent of catatonia. In Sweden this is now known as Uppgivenhetssyndrom, internationally referred to as Resignation Syndrome. Since the late 1990s, numerous asylum children in Sweden have fallen into a similar condition: motionless, speechless, unreachable. Sometimes only tube feeding keeps them alive. These are children whose asylum applications have been rejected and who cannot bear the thought of returning to war, repression or social displacement.
Quiet Life is tightly composed, in mostly gray, bluish and white tones. The film is played in an understated, detached style. The dialogues are unnatural, sometimes even absurdist – entirely in keeping with the film’s absurdist atmosphere. The spaces in which the characters move are bare and symmetrical. As a result, many viewers will have difficulty connecting emotionally with what is happening on screen. But that seems to be precisely the intention of director Giorgos Avranas.
Still, the question inevitably arises: is this “real”? Did Avranas want to make a realistic drama, or is Quiet Life meant to be a parable about the cruel fate of asylum seekers? After all, the World Health Organization does not recognize Resignation Syndrome as an official psychiatric condition. Yet several publications – accessible via PubMed – and an impressive report in The New Yorker make short of that skepticism.
Regardless, Quiet Life is not an easy film to fathom. Katja’s parents are subjected to bizarre therapies and urged – or rather forced – to adopt an unnaturally cheerful attitude. To what extent this is based on reality remains unclear. It does help to know that Avranas belongs to the so-called “weird Greek wave,” a movement within Greek cinema characterized by alienating aesthetics and socially unusual manners. Its best-known representative is Yorgos Lanthimos, with such internationally lauded films as Poor Things, The Lobster and Dogtooth. These films examine and comment on political and cultural issues, social relations and – more broadly – the modern zeitgeist in disturbing ways. Quiet Life fits seamlessly into that list.
Henk Maassen