When I first saw the trailer for Split, I knew I wouldn’t be going to see it. For one thing, the scene shown in the teaser where three girls are abducted in a parking lot marked it clearly as Horror, and I hate scary movies. (Not to mention that I already check under, behind, and around my car before I get in, lock my doors, and immediately drive away from any given location, so thank you Hollywood for reinforcing my paranoid safety check.) Then there was James McAvoy’s character, who apparently is yet another example of Hollywood’s fascination with (and frequent mistaken representation of) dissociative identity disorder (DID). It seemed unlikely to me that situating a person with mental illness as a kidnapper and probable villain could involve tasteful representation of mental health problems, so that gave me another reason not to bother.
Last week, two of my coworkers began discussing the movie. They expressed their admiration for the apparent “twist” ending, praised James McAvoy’s acting, then turned to me and asked if I’d seen it.
“No, and I don’t plan to.”
“Why not?” one coworker exclaimed. “It’s awesome!”
“I don’t like thrillers,” I started, “and even more importantly,” louder over their protests that it wasn’t that scary, “I think it’s contributing to social stigma surrounding mental illness by continuing to portray people with those illnesses as automatically dangerous or monstrous.”
They looked at me. “It’s actually sooooo good!” one of them said, but her voice was quieter.
“I’m sure it’s an interesting story,” I said, “and I’m sure that as far as movies go it has all the drama and suspense that it needs to. But I don’t agree with perpetuating damaging stereotypes to do that.”
There was a slightly awkward pause.
“His acting was, like, insane, though,” the other coworker finally said, and they were off again.
I have no doubt that McAvoy’s acting in this movie was impressive; just watching the trailer, I was amazed by his ability to differentiate and fully inhabit even the few personalities shown there. I have no doubt that the writers constructed a compelling enough storyline to accomplish all the goals of the genre.
My problem is with the priorities that this movie represents, the priorities that keep allowing movies like this to be made instead of giving us popular culture filled with realistic and non-shameful pictures of mental illness. My problem is that even this article in The Guardian outlining cinematic misrepresentation of DID through the years ends with praise for McAvoy’s acting. We keep putting “It’s a good story!” and “It’s a chance for the actor to show off their talent!” above the damage done by shoving mental illness into the same old categories. And mental health deserves better from our popular culture.
Individuals with illnesses other than DID suffer from this idea of the “mentally ill monster” too. Schizophrenia is the most directly affected, since it is often mistakenly conflated with DID and therefore seen as farther along on the “crazy” spectrum. Depressed people are often assumed to be suicidal, even though the reality is that symptoms vary widely in intensity and depending on the individual. As for anxiety, our society already mistrusts people who cannot conform to the Extrovert Ideal, so sufferers of anxiety are often watched as though they might “snap” at any moment.
This isn’t just me over thinking things, either. The American Psychological Association has done studies interpreting the link between media and the perception of mental illness as dangerousness. While conclusions vary, the researchers agree that this link does exist and that it is actively contributing to continuing stigma against mental illness.
Given all these perceptions and pictures of mental illness surrounding us, no wonder few people seek help when they need it. Who would want to seek out a diagnosis or admit to having one of these problems? Who would voluntarily categorize themselves as a monster?
I congratulate James McAvoy on his talent in his chosen profession. But I refuse to pretend that admiration for a complete stranger is more important than the work we need to do to alter the perception of mental illness in our popular media. Now, a movie about a man with DID figuring out how to live everyday life despite the society he lives in constantly viewing him with fear? That’s a movie I’d go see.
“. Now, a movie about a man with DID figuring out how to live everyday life despite the society he lives in constantly viewing him with fear? That’s a movie I’d go see.”
There wouldn’t be a line at the concession stand, though, and movie making is a business which is massively uninterested in social welfare unless there is a substantial profit in it.
I know – the business side of things definitely plays a part. But I think recent controversies over other movies have shown that moviegoers have the power to decide what kind of movies do or don’t make money, if they decide that a certain issue is worth it. I think that’s where the change will ultimately have to come from, which is why it bothers me that the conversation around the movie isn’t what it needs to be.