The ultimate achievement in Lawrence Kasdan’s cannon as a writer and director and the one that in many ways he continued to attempt to re-achieve over and over again came in 1983, co-written with Barbara Benedek, telling the tale of a group of baby boomers who come back together around 15 years or so since they were all united as one, for the unfortunate reason of the suicide of their friend Alex. Now I’d actually like to start there with a very famous behind the scenes titbit. The role of Alex was originally filled by Kevin Costner with Kasdan and the crew filming an epilogue scene that would take us back to the pivotal college years that have been discussed throughout the film and we would finally meet this man we’ve heard so much about, in a Godfather Part II almost concluding flashback scene. This was ultimately of course cut which leads to this films current very abrupt ending and the figure of Alex looming over the whole film like a ghost without us ever actually having a tangible notion of the man. I bring this up first because this is of course for me the reason the film works as well as it does. No Costner performance or performance by any actor could live up to 2 hours of idolisation and mythicization, nor could any flashback perfectly summate the joyous experience that we have for the past 2 hours seen the ghostly natural worldly aftermath of. Instead we have a film of figures grasping at the smoke-like past, forever out of their grasp as they come to terms with the loss of their goals and aims in life and the sobering nature of adult life as they each reach their own mid-life crisis, of course exacerbated by the seemingly random suicide of a man who it seems was the lynchpin of the friendship group. Kasdan with Benedek from the off manages to craft such subtlety and stunning encapsulations of each of their figures that we never once feel as if the collection of wholly different mid-life crisis’s seems implausible or forced. We simply take by virtue of the craft of the film the reality of the situation and the proof is of course in the pudding with the many, many films that have attempted unsuccessfully to ape this formula and failed, with Kasdan even at times attempting to recapture the ensemble success of this masterful beast himself to a lesser level. For as much as Big Chill does cast a lot of great actors and play a lot of great music and face down a variety of adult complexities, it is not always that simple a three point checklist. Nor do three successful ticks immediately grant one a sure-fire success of a film.

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This seemingly random assortment of individuals are indeed all cast perfectly without a single mis-step and are all directed by Kasdan and performed to an inch of perfection, making for the ideal reflection of what ideally a solid ensemble comedy drama should look like. One by one our performances all rank among the very best of their respective careers, despite in many ways all being minor appearances within what could be seen as an ensemble cramped with greatness. Yet everybody pops in their own time and Kasdan makes sure to balance and allow each stellar actor to shine. The first figures we meet within the stunningly simple and marvellously constructed opening montage credits are that of married couple Kevin Kline and Glen Close. Kline is so likable and is in many ways our leading figure here, not because he has more screentime, but just as a figure we naturally drift to him as a core of resolution and comfort, despite the great emotional pains he hides or attempts to quell. Close is the most emotionally visible and vulnerable figure in the ensemble and although having a brief and very funny drug mis-use scene, is mostly in monologues and private moments highlighting the absolute emotional turmoil that came from Alex taking his own life. But Close and Kasdan work together to make this so much more than the token overly emotional ex-lover trope, painting her with the same tenderness and artistic maturity that he paints every character with. Jeff Goldblum is a slightly off figure who is as funny as he is prying and slightly ill-fitting in the group, again bringing home the reality that is often common with these sorts of friendship groups. Tom Berenger is an absolute blast of charisma thwarted by a self-consciousness and deep rooted regret that makes the pained attempt to recapture lost romance with himself and the similarly wonderful and mature turn by JoBeth Williams, all the more affecting – this lost romance and these two great performances by Williams and Berenger has always in many ways been my favourite subplot of the film and never fails to land emotionally and erotically for me and is by far the most believable sexual and romantic chemistry in the film. Mary Kay Place ends up the largest narrative arc of the film with her pregnancy surrogate plotline and although this plotline doesn’t wholly work for me in regards to its ‘too neat’ resolution, Kay Place manages to imbue the role with a lot of heart and humour and ultimately pathos that makes it work in a way that on the page it must have too, with this reportedly being the role that many of the actresses sought after. The most complex male figure in the film and the only role specifically written for an actor was that of William Hurt’s character of Nick, who is both the most tortured of the men it seems and also the most jovial repeatedly, all culminating in the final embittered discussion where facades slip and the truth outs. And somewhere in the middle of all this is Meg Tilly as Alex’s girlfriend at the time he took his life, who is juvenile, naïve and yet time after time punctuates scenes with undercutting non-sequiturs about a side of Alex none of his closest friends ever saw, or fleeting yet wholly impacting moments of truthful insight despite her youth in the face of these many older and by all accounts more adult people she is currently boarding with.

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The films natural doling out of plot elements and slow build to confrontation and further building of romantic tension and release is a subtle arc that Kasdan crafts, fuelled by camera work within these moments that is a lot more flourish based than a lot of these standard features take. Overall Kasdan eventually reveals to us the final thrusts of these plots and how they all clash in a way that we wholly believe by the time we get there, even if they may at times seem beyond our immediate recognition of normality or believability, but when one contextualise with the generation depicted and falls naturally into the flow of Kasdan’s masterful craft everything just seems to fit. To put it plainly that’s the best thing one can say about Big Chill, is that in a film of so many elements, some even including bizarre plot points, everything just seems to fit. Now whether or not that is Kasdan’s directorial capabilities or the ensembles performances overcoming certain elements of the script, it doesn’t matter, for in the end, it does all come together. It all just fits.

-       - Thomas Carruthers