For as long as I can remember, psychiatrists have talked about what the appropriate boundaries are for self-disclosure about personal issues with patients. There is obviously no exact answer as to what is acceptable to disclose; this depends on the doctor, the patient, the “brand” of psychotherapy, the patient’s issues, the nature of what is being disclosed, and maybe the alignment of the stars on that particular day. “Stutz,” the Netflix documentary that Oscar-nominated actor/director Jonah Hill has made about his psychiatrist, Phil Stutz, MD, adds a whole new chapter to the discussion.
Dr. Dinah Miller
“Okay, entertain me,” Dr. Stutz says as his patient takes a seat. The therapeutic relationship and the paradigm Dr. Stutz has created to help his patients has been healing for Jonah Hill. The very serious and intimate dialogue that follows unfolds with moments of humor, warmth, and open affection. Hill candidly tells us why he is making this documentary – to share what he has learned and to honor his therapist – but we don’t know why Dr. Stutz has agreed to the endeavor and we’re left to our own inferences.
Dr. Stutz is the coauthor, with Barry Michels, of a best-selling self-help book, “The Tools: 5 Tools to Help You Find Courage, Creativity, and Willpower – and Inspire You to Live Life in Forward Motion.” He talks about his restlessness with the psychodynamic method during his training as a resident in New York – he wanted to offer his patients more immediate relief and a supervisor told him, “Don’t you dare!”
In the film, he talks about giving patients hope and direction. And Hill makes the comment, “In traditional therapy, you’re paying this person and you save all your problems for them, and they just listen, and your friends – who are idiots – give you advice, unsolicited, and you want your friends just to listen, and you want your therapist to give you advice!” Dr. Stutz gives advice and he is like no other therapist Jonah has ever had.
The premise of the film is that we are watching a single therapy session and Dr. Stutz will discuss the use of his tools and techniques that Hill has found helpful. Jonah is the interviewer, and when the doctor suggests it would be helpful if Jonah talked about his life, the patient/director rebuffs him; this documentary is about the psychiatrist.
Early in the film an alarm goes off, Dr. Stutz does not hear it, and Jonah has to remind him that it’s time for him to take his pills. The psychiatrist has Parkinson’s disease and how it has affected him becomes one focal point for the film. We later learn that he lost a younger brother as a child (something Hill did not know before they started filming) and grew up in the shadow of that loss. His extroverted father made it clear that medicine was the only acceptable career path for his son, and his introverted and depressed mother spent her days proclaiming that all men were as awful as her own abusive father.
About a third of the way through the film, the focus shifts. Jonah suddenly confesses that he is feeling stuck with regard to the movie, that he is troubled by the fact that he has not been able to share his distress with Dr. Stutz during their real-life, unfilmed therapy sessions, and the viewers learn that the single-session concept was disingenuous – they have been filming this documentary for two years, against a green screen and not in an office, always wearing the same clothes, and Jonah pulls off a wig that he wears to disguise the fact that he changed his hairstyle months earlier.
It’s a bit unnerving as they throw the wig around, and Jonah agrees to be more open about the issues he has struggled with. He acknowledges that this has been difficult, and he says, “I just keep asking myself, like, was this a f***ing horrible idea for a patient to make a movie about his therapist?” From my perspective as a psychiatrist-viewer, it’s a good question to ask!
Dr. Stutz reassures Jonah that it is okay to be vulnerable. “Failure, weakness, vulnerability – it’s like a connector, it connects you to the rest of the world.” A super-sized cardboard cutout of an obese 14-year-old Jonah now joins the room, and we learn that he continues to struggle with his self-image. Things get more real.
Peppered throughout the film, there are lessons from Dr. Stutz about his “tools,” constructs he uses to help people restructure their worlds and take action to move forward. One such construct he calls “the maze,” which occurs when one person in an interpersonal relationship is waiting for fairness and becomes preoccupied with feeling injured.
Jonah inquires about Dr. Stutz’s romantic life and the therapist replies with a transparency that overrides our usual professional boundaries. We all learn that Dr. Stutz is not in a relationship, he’s never been married, but there is a woman he has had some involvement with on and off for 40 years. Jonah’s line of questioning rivals that of any therapist. “How do you think it affects you, having your mom hate men and you being a man?” Dr. Stutz admits that he can never feel safe with women. “Did you ever override that wall you built with your mom and get close to a woman?” When Jonah professes, “I don’t feel anything but love for you and I just want you to be happy,” my own feeling was that the tables had turned too far, that the therapist’s failed romantic life risked being a burden to the patient.
Still, there is something about the relationship between the two men that is touching and beautiful. Dr. Stutz as a therapist is charismatic, caring, self-assured, and optimistic, and he radiates hope and certainty. He mixes an intense intimacy with humor in a way that is both authentic and entertaining. The interspersed jokes break the intensity, but they don’t diminish his wisdom and the healing he imparts.
Dr. Stutz is a psychiatrist, and his strength is clearly as a psychotherapist, yet there is not a single mention of psychotropic medications – there is a banter about recreational drugs and medications for Parkinson’s disease. If Hill is taking medication for depression or anxiety, and if prescribing is part of Dr. Stutz’s arsenal, the viewer is not made aware of this.
Dr. Stutz eschews the slow, detached, and “neutral” pace of psychodynamic therapy and the whole concept of the therapist as a blank wall for the transference to play out on, but here the transference screams: Jonah loves him, he respect and honors him, he wants him to be happy, and he is afraid of losing him.
“Stutz” is a movie about a larger-than-life psychiatrist, one whose warmth and inspiration are healing. I imagine his tools are helpful, but his personality is what carries the load. If a viewer has not had experience with psychiatry, and this film inspires him to begin therapy, there may be a good deal of disappointment. In this case, the patient is a successful actor, and one might wonder if that, together with the entire years-long project of filming, has altered the relationship well beyond the usual therapeutic hour.
Dr. Miller is a coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is an assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore.