Which is worse, the therapist or the lawyer?
There’s a lot to appreciate in this movie, but the therapist and the lawyer have got to both be among the worst-written characters for their respective occupations.
What’s with the therapist? He seems to have no idea of exerting any sort of control of any of the situations he’s involved in. There’s no evident plan in his actions beyond simply throwing hurting people together and seeing what happens. What in heavens name could have been the idea behind bringing together all the survivors? He says that it’s to tell stories, but apparently he hasn’t prepared anyone attending for this, because in the first two minutes one of the attendees gets up to leave, complaining about how long this is taking. He then inexplicably lets the point of the encounter shift to a mother’s inquiry about her dead son, and then to the flight attendant’s personal reunion with the Rosie Perez character. When this gets a (justifiably) angry response from Rosie, there’s the therapist finally intervening, only to heavy-handedly tell her that no one’s allowed to do anything to express blame. I can understand wanting to head off attacks between the participants, but he could have accomplished this in a far better way, in a way that was inclusive and supportive. My wife, mother, and father-in-law were all involved in various types of psychotherapy, and I can’t imagine someone arranging a gathering like with so little an idea of what was expected to occur, and without keeping a firm control on the proceedings. How the doctor in the movie could get and hold a significant position with an airline is completely beyond me.
And then there’s the lawyer. I’m a lawyer, although not the litigating kind, and I can’t believe that any lawyer would act like this toward clients. Actually, it is possible, I suppose, but I expect that by the time he’d reached his second client he would have learned a thing or two about personal relations. First, consider his oblique suggestion to the Bridges character that he might later “remember” certain details that would help his case. I can imagine a lawyer doing that, although the way he put it in the movie was unnecessarily (and ineffectively) crude. But then, when he gets called on it, as to whether he’s asking the Bridges character to lie, his response is along the lines of, “Well, I guess I am asking you to lie, but it’s for a good reason, so that your partner’s widow can get more money.” Wrong! Not only wrong because it’s openly suborning perjury, but wrong because it’s terrible psychology. Much better than “do a bad thing, it’s for a good cause,” would be to approach this from the moral high ground. Deny that you want him to lie, express concern with the trauma he’s gone through, and express your regret that you have to work in a system where whether the partner’s family will get compensated to the extent that the law allows (not that that would be full compensation) depends on whether he’s able to remember such details.
And there’s the lawyer’s contingency fee. When questioned about it, he says that he’s “terrible” for getting such a fee. Whether seriously or in jest, I can’t picture anyone saying that to a client, not even on his or her first case. I figure that every PI lawyer must have a set speech on the subject, about how they have to defer compensation until the settlement is reached, about how they take many cases where they receive nothing at all, and about regret that our system doesn’t make the large companies liable for attorney’s fees when someone is injured, so that contingency fees are the only way to go, especially for many of the poor clients they represent against large companies.
And finally, even in a big case where I stood to get a big payday, I think I could resist the urge to show up on my client’s doorstep (before settlement is agreed upon, no less), champagne in hand, and all giggly at the prospect of getting a somewhat fatter check than expected. I might be able to work up some righteous satisfaction at a successful conclusion, but never can I picture being giggly in front of a client who had suffered some trauma or loss.
-- TopFrog