Strange bed fellow.
This past weekend, my husband and I went to a movie for the first time in at least six months. We saw “Hope Springs” starring Tommy Lee Jones and Meryl Streep. It’s the hilarious yet touching story of empty nesters that have fallen into a rut, but only one of them realizes it.
Arnold, a cranky CPA who leads a life of strict routine, doesn’t understand why his wife, Kay is so upset about the state of their 30-year marriage. The relationship runs efficiently, stubborn Arnold believes. Through the help of intimacy therapist, Dr. Bernie Feld (played brilliantly by Steve Carrell), the “over 55″ couple analyzes behaviors that possibly drove them apart. In a heartbreaking scene, Arnold doesn’t spell out exactly what happened, but female audience members will be able to diagnose it immediately. Motherhood.
Mike and I were the youngest people in the theater, which was packed with women I might add. I think I counted two other men in the room; their faces hidden behind large bags of popcorn. In my opinion, the movie isn’t a chick flick. It’s a couple flick. In fact, if a woman sees this movie by herself or with a few girlfriends, she’s wasting her time and the film’s message (unless she just wants a good laugh). As Mike said when we got in the car, “About 50 men are going to be confused as hell when their wives get home.”
The movie was too old for us in many ways, but in others, “Hope Springs” serves as a stern warning to younger couples that are in prime time parenting. Without giving too much away about my own marriage, I will tell you that Mike and I looked at each other during certain scenes because they were eerily familiar. We’ve been together for 21 years (married for 15), so I suppose it’s normal to start experiencing roommate-type symptoms.
It is normal, right? Dr. Bernie Feld would reply, “You tell me. Does it feel normal, Kate?”
I mean, Kay.
Marital boredom is often the result of giving 20+ years of undivided attention to children. Once kids leave home and start their own lives, men and women have to learn how to reside as couples as opposed to legally bound husbands and wives. In Kay Soames’ case, she wants to become the main attraction in Arnold’s life again, but he’s content falling asleep watching Golf TV in his easy chair. She wants a “real” marriage filled with romance, to which Arnold responds, “We’re not 22 anymore!”
Is this what we have to look forward to? Two eggs and one strip of bacon every morning for the next 40 years?
Kay doesn’t respond to the implied accusation that motherhood killed their marriage. When Dr. Feld asks the couple why they stopped sleeping in the same bed, Arnold is eager to explain that he threw his back out while helping their son move into a dorm at school. He was in pain and couldn’t get comfortable — and then the snoring began — so he spent a few nights in the guest room. But he never left.
A guest room? Separate quarters for sleeping? His and her bedrooms? Closing the door behind each other? Waving goodnight from across the hall? Snoozing on the pull-out couch? It’s enough to keep me up at night.
Does motherhood injure marriage? Arnold suggests that it does, but Kay doesn’t understand how devotion can be so destructive. She cries that her husband no longer finds her attractive, quite possibly because she never lost all of her pregnancy pounds. “I never cared about that,” Arnold snaps. But it’s obvious that baby weight was a major factor in their relationship’s demise.
I won’t spoil the ending for you, but the last 10 minutes will make you a tad uncomfortable. Arnold grumbles to Dr. Feld that marital counseling is a lot like a beauty makeover. ”You’re completely different for a day or two, and then you go back looking like you always did.”
Change is temporary. The same old problems creep back in after a while. The Soames’ (and the viewers) are left asking: Can this marriage be saved — for good?
I squirmed in my seat a few times, feeling like I had accidentally caught my parents in the act. The movie is rated PG-13, so it’s not exactly 50 Shades of Grey. Well, perhaps it is on some level. One reviewer called the movie “geezer porn.” However it’s classified, the movie does shed light on what happens to couples when they stop taking care of themselves — from the physical to the emotional.
In two hours, Mike and I learned that a child can become the “other” person in a relationship. Maturing as adults doesn’t mean that you have to stop having the kind of fun you experienced as “kids.” And more importantly, trying to reconnect with your spouse after two decades of parenting will be harder than anything we experienced in motherhood.
“Hope Springs” will make you giggle, and it might even make you worry. In the end, though, I’m sure you’ll decide that spending time with the person you fell in love with will never get old.