Commentary
Disclaimer
Disclaimer: I’m not a sports guy. I can occasionally watch basketball (Go Kings), I can play Madden (Go Lions), I can binge hockey fight compilations (Go Canada), and I can get hyped about competitive Melee (Fox, Final Destination). But I just can’t get into sports the way most people can, and that means sports movies tend to bore me as well. The genre has all the formulaic trappings of the horror genre without the option of rooting for the protagonists to die if you don’t really like them.
So when I went into The Way Back, I didn’t expect to like it and wanted to preface any commentary with a disclaimer that it’s just not my kind of movie. I come into the genre as someone who barely engages with it.
It surpassed expectations: I kind of liked it, because it’s only loosely about sports. It’s much more about Ben Affleck working through his own journey with alcoholism on screen with a sports plot wrapped around it, and the sincerity shows in his performance in a way that resonated with me. He described his experience as “therapeutic” and “cathartic” with the hope of providing that for others as well. It also raised questions for me about how a public figure whose life is examined under a microscope works traditional recovery steps that others do with the safety of anonymity, and perhaps what we can learn from that in the Internet age where everyone is given their 15 minutes of fame.
Spiritus Contra Spiritum
“You see, “alcohol” in Latin is “spiritus” and you use the same word for the highest religious experience as well as for the most depraving poison. The helpful formula убакс мультикам therefore is: spiritus contra spiritum.” — Carl Jung
Recovery is not just about staying clean physically but also about having a clean conscience and mind, which often requires healing from underlying sources of distress through holistic lifestyle changes. For many, this includes growth across the mind, body, and soul — the last of which is commonly associated with spirituality. As Carl Jung wrote in a letter to Bill Wilson, the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, about a client of his:
“His craving for alcohol was the equivalent, on a low level, of the spiritual thirst of our being for wholeness, expressed in medieval language: the union with God.”
“The only right and legitimate way to such an experience is that it happens to you in reality and it can only happen to you when you walk on a path which leads you to higher understanding. You might be led to that goal by an act of grace or through a personal and honest contact with friends, or through a higher education of the mind beyond the confines of mere rationalism.”
“I am strongly convinced that the evil principle prevailing in this world leads the unrecognized spiritual need into perdition, if it is not counteracted either by real religious insight or by the protective wall of human community. An ordinary man, not protected by an action from above and isolated in society, cannot resist the power of evil””
As a result, most recovery programs either explicitly embrace religion and spirituality or leave room for it. Even evidence-based scientific and secular approaches like SMART Recovery, which integrates principles from Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and Rational-Emotive Behavioral Therapy (REBT), find utility in spiritual practices like meditation:
“I think of meditation as REBT in action: REBT is based on the understanding that our thoughts and beliefs determine how we react to situations – that we create our own happiness (and suffering). Buddhist teachings are derived from essentially the same precept – the slogan “pain is inevitable, suffering is optional” pretty much sums it up.”
“It helps me practice acceptance (of self, others, and life); builds my capacity for not getting upset over the upsets; untangles the feelings from the thinking and beliefs about the feelings; and is a big part of how I let go of unhelpful beliefs – importantly, by first bringing those beliefs (and/or patterns of thinking and reacting) into conscious awareness. Much easier to dispute irrational beliefs if you know what they are!” — Charlotte Miller, SMART Recovery Facilitator
Anthropologist Mary Douglas wrote in Purity and Danger (1966) about the ideas of “dirt” throughout history within the context of cleanliness and sacred rituals. As the adage goes, “hurt people hurt people”: a simple way of describing the notion that suffering spreads through society in the way that a pollutant or illness might.
““There are two distinct ways of cancelling a pollution: one is the ritual which makes no enquiry into the cause of the pollution, and does not seek to place responsibility; the other is the confessional rite… Reflecting on this instance, we can suppose that confession, since it always makes precise the nature of the offence and enables blame to be allocated, is a good basis for demanding compensation.””
In trying to stay “clean,” addicts confront not just the physical impurities in their bodies by drug abuse, in which someone’s state of mind is altered to favor destructive ends, but also the underlying psychic wounds within themselves and society that resurface as triggers. Otherwise, many addicts find themselves in a state of chronic relapsing that progressively gets worse over time. Organized spirituality has its roots in organized religion, so it’s worth taking a moment to explore the foundational teachings that inform cultural norms and appeal to diverse individuals.
Christianity
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us… and to cleanse us.” — 1 John 1:9
“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” — Psalm 51:10
In Christianity, the framework of sin mediates the understanding of suffering, with sin considered a crime against God that results from innate character defects within humans as limited beings. Thus, even when others are hurt as a result of one’s sin, the primary crime is against God. Through sacramental rituals such as baptism and confession, one can repent to seek forgiveness from God before putting their renewed self into action. In doing so, God also forgets the sin, giving a “clean slate” when judging an individual’s soul for the afterlife and hopefully a clean conscience while on Earth. As for forgiveness from those who suffered as a result of sin:
“If you are offering your gift at the altar and remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift… first be reconciled to your brother.” — Matthew 5:23–24
“If you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” — Matthew 6:15
Confessing one’s sins to another and seeking forgiveness as part of reconciliation is highly valued, even preceding the command to seek forgiveness from God. In turn, the victim of one’s sins is commanded to provide that forgiveness, or else they will not be forgiven for their own sins. This reciprocity provides a foundation for social conduct that encourages amends and restitution as evidence of repentance but is distinct from the ultimate forgiveness that comes from God. It also lends itself as a moral justification for certain legal systems based on compensation and restorative justice, a philosophy on justice that dates back to Aristotle.
Consider adultery. In a culture that sees monogamous relationships as a type of contract between two individuals and their offspring as the rightful inheritors of one’s estate, an affair is seen as a violation that harms one’s partner if not the entire family unit. If someone cheated, we tend to think that this person should confess their affair so that their partner can renegotiate the terms of the relationship, whether it’s placing new rules or moving on.
“You ask, ‘Why?’ It is because the LORD is the witness between you and the wife of your youth. You have been unfaithful to her, though she is your partner, the wife of your marriage covenant.” — Malachi 2:14
No-fault divorce is a relatively recent norm — California was the first US state to implement it in 1969. Australia established it in 1975, and Canada established it in 1986. Fault-based alimony in divorces came from the idea that a husband, traditionally expected to be the breadwinner and more likely to commit sexual misconduct, should provide for a wife since she would be expected to raise any children resulting from the marriage. If the wife was at-fault instead, that might void the alimony.
So we can see that the framework for confessing a sin has played a role morally, socially, and legally — sometimes all at once. Figuring out who is at fault and undergoing some kind of consequence as penance is seen as necessary before restitution, reformation, or absolution is achieved.
Judaism
“For transgressions between a person and God, Yom Kippur atones; however, for transgressions between a person and another, Yom Kippur does not atone until he appeases the other person.” — Rabbi Eleazar ben Azariah
Similar to Christianity, Judaism frames sin as an offense against God, but also clarifies that God does not have the moral right to grant forgiveness for the suffering caused to other people. Before God grants forgiveness, one must fulfill their obligation to seek forgiveness from others. There’s a greater emphasis on seeking forgiveness from fellow humans than in Christianity, where God has the ultimate right to forgive all sins if they’re confessed and repentance is sought.
To atone in the eyes of God, practicing Jews observe Ten Days of Repentance starting with Rosh Hashanah and ending with Yom Kippur. To receive forgiveness, one must repent with sincere regret, a commitment to improve, and then a confession to God. As part of proving this resolve not to commit the sin again, one is instructed to seek forgiveness from those they have harmed three times. If this is not given, as Judaism does not command forgiveness with the same emphasis as Christianity, then one has at least shown God their resolution to improve and can seek forgiveness from God for their sins against Him. The motivation to forgive one’s fellow humans is in hoping that one too will be forgiven for their sins if they open themselves up to the process of amends. One can repent and atone repeatedly in their lives, but the Ten Days of Repentance provide a collective ritual in which people can humble themselves together in seeking forgiveness.
Buddhism
In many Buddhist traditions, suffering and wrongdoing are considered the result of ignorance with natural consequences in the form of negative karma, and forgiveness is a practical virtue of the victim rather than a code of conduct for actions that produce suffering. If someone commits adultery, they may suffer natural consequences in the way of reputational harm, internal shame, communicable disease, pregnancy, or other disruption to their life. For the victim, a common piece of wisdom is given: no one has ever died from a snake’s bite, but the venom their body holds onto. Similarly, forgiveness itself is a purifying action for the one who is bitten, not necessarily something that cleanses the snake of its nature to cause suffering.
“By oneself is evil done; by oneself is one defiled. By oneself is evil left undone; by oneself is one purified. Purity and impurity depend on oneself; no one can purify another.” — Dhammapada 165
Buddhist ethics emphasize individual action and discipline in the maintenance of oneself even as it promotes the harmony of an interconnected world. This defies the stereotypical collectivism vs. individualism dichotomy that is often imposed in discussions about Eastern vs. Western cultural spheres. In fact, the Serenity Prayer is a good entry point into this perspective, where the principle of focusing only on the things we can control is defined as the purification of oneself, although there is value in expressing generosity and compassion towards others. The natural state of a being without attachment that produces suffering is assumed to be compassion.
Though the belief in deities and divinity is not in contradiction with Buddhist ethics, divine forgiveness or validation does not play a role in one’s own karma. Rituals may be an aspect of cultivating discipline, but the simple act of a ritual doesn’t purify oneself. Because of this, confession does not have inherent value in purifying oneself of wrongdoing either. Rather, the acknowledgement of wrongdoing only has utility in avoiding future wrongdoing that can produce suffering by lifting one’s ignorance and promoting actions that accumulate positive karma. The lack of emphasis on external morality or a higher power in its ethics is one of the reasons Buddhist spiritual practices and philosophy are commonly incorporated in other belief systems, including secular morality.
“The Buddhist perspective is therefore that forgiveness should be unconditional. No prior qualification is needed to render an offender worthy of forgiveness, and no acknowledgement of wrongdoing is required on his or her part…” — Chien-Te Lin
Similarly, there are no rituals or codes of conduct for becoming worthy of forgiveness from someone else. This free exchange of forgiveness promotes growth and compassion instead of holding onto poisons.
In many recovery groups, resentment is identified as one of the most common paths to relapse. It can interfere with connection to others, it can invoke anxiety and anger that produce intolerable distress, and it can trap oneself in the patterns of the past rather than encouraging better actions in the future. The third of these is especially harmful in a Buddhist context, as it leads to defining one’s identity by an attachment to past emotions which produces suffering. To expect someone else to do something to become worthy of your forgiveness is to hold a kind of grudge or debt, and the lack of repayment on that can grow into resentment. So there’s a selfish motive behind cultivating forgiveness as a personal virtue, and there’s no merit in applying stigma or expecting shame until a confession is produced.
“We don’t make amends for the sake of satisfying some external standard of morality, to be forgiven, or to get something in return. Instead, we use the process as a way to let go of our expectations and disappointments in others and ourselves — in other words, to let go of our attachment to a different past.” — Recovery Dharma
Hinduism
I think of Hinduism less as a religion and more as a framework to discuss spiritual, religious, and philosophical beliefs. Every religion has different sects, branches, interpretations, and room for diverse individual expressions, but Hinduism is especially difficult to generalize across with the immense diversity in languages, histories, socioeconomic adaptations, and scholarship. There also isn’t an analogue to the Pope or Dalai Lama as a figurehead to a widespread organization like the Catholic Church.
One branch of Hinduism, Vaishnavism, believes Vishnu to be the Supreme Power of the universe and Krishna to be one of his avatars. One of the most famous epics in Hinduism is the Bhagavad Gita, which Hindus widely consider to be a foundational text containing wisdom to guide ethical conduct and universal understandings. Within it, the hero Ram is having doubts about partaking in a righteous war because he fears causing suffering for selfish gain, and Krishna reassures him:
“Take refuge in Him alone with all your soul, O Bharata. By His grace will you gain Supreme Peace and the Everlasting Abode.”
“Fix your heart on Me, give your love to Me, worship Me, bow down before Me; so shall you come to Me. This is My pledge to you, for you are dear to Me.”
“Abandon all dharmas and come to Me alone for shelter. I will deliver you from all sins; do not grieve.”
This leads to a similar practice as in Christianity of seeking to purify oneself through devotional commitments and repentance to a supreme Higher Power. Different sub-sects practice different rituals to achieve this. Bathing in the Ganges River is one of the most well-known as a kind of holy water that purifies. Others include holy days of worship and fasting like Judaism. One possibly distinct feature of these Hindu interpretations is the notion that wrongdoing is not just a crime against God or other individuals, but against the harmony of the community in which they live. Some Hindu traditions also incorporate a gendered component to giving forgiveness; the masculine form of forgiveness is given after repentance while the feminine form of forgiveness is given without repentance. The feminine form is often considered a more supreme virtue.
Other branches of Hinduism, especially those that are non-theistic or don’t emphasize theistic worship, have a complex spiritual formulation in which any acknowledgement of wrongdoing within oneself is sufficient repentance. Realizing one has made a mistake means one has ignored an aspect of their consciousness that was capable of realizing that mistake, so this recognition is already a confession that awakens a part of us able to do better. The one who commits wrong, the one who recognizes wrong, the one who suffers from negative karma, and the one who resolves to do better are all the same. In these interpretations, deities are considered allegorical representations of both parts of the universe and parts of our natures. Divine forgiveness can’t play a role in purifying and reassuring oneself, but deities can be seen as embodying ideals of conduct that we should aspire to. Reconciliation with others is a moral imperative to restore harmony in the world, distinct from confession and forgiveness.
Adapting Spiritual Catharsis Into Recovery
“It’s not particularly healthy for me to obsess over the failures — the relapses — and beat myself up. I have certainly made mistakes. I have certainly done things that I regret. But you’ve got to pick yourself up, learn from it, learn some more, try to move forward.” — Ben Affleck
The 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous (and other XA recovery groups) touch on confession and amends in steps 5, 8, and 9 with roots in Christian spirituality. Step 5 instructs recovering addicts to admit their wrongdoings to a Higher Power, to themselves, and to another human. Steps 8 and 9 say to make amends with those wronged except in cases where it could cause further harm. This is also compatible with Jewish and theistic Hindu concepts of spirituality, where confession has a role in internal purity and external cleansing as part of a balance maintained by a universal power and reinforced through social codes of conduct.
At a personal level, many addicts in recovery find that the practices of confession allow them to be secure in knowing that they’ve done everything they can to right their wrongs, which can alleviate the burden on their conscience to promote healthy living in the future rather than dwelling on past regrets. There’s also external reassurance for those who value it, both from the anonymous group and a Higher Power. Especially for those who identify as religious, there can be relief in feeling they’ve made restitution and undergone penance for past sins. The structure and fellowship provided by 12-step programs can provide a familiar replication of cleansing rituals.
Amends doesn’t always mean correcting the wrongs of the past, as in many ways this simply isn’t possible, but instead putting oneself into the habit of making better choices without the self-hatred of the past. For instance, someone who was abusive while they were drinking may cause further harm by reaching out to the recipient of the abuse and potentially forcing them to relive trauma, but acknowledging their actions as abusive and supporting others’ sobriety can reinforce their spiritual growth as a form of “living amends” through better action. The idea of service is key in these recovery groups as a way to demonstrate this action to oneself.
“Sometimes people call me up and they’re like, ‘Hey, can you help me out?’ And it makes me feel so good to do that. The big trick of 12-step is the reason they want you to help other people is because it actually helps you more.” — Ben Affleck
Other recovery approaches don’t emphasize confession or amends as much, with a “take it or leave it” attitude instead. SMART Recovery promotes the Principle of Unconditional Self-Acceptance: “I can choose to accept myself even if am unwilling or unable to change my ‘character defects’ because there is no law of the universe that says I can’t.” This encourages individuals to reject the idea that they are “dirtied” with the baggage of the past until they meet some conditions to cleanse themselves. The founder of REBT, Albert Ellis, argued that “if you could, at any one second, somehow give your totality a legitimate rating, this rating would keep changing constantly as you did new things and had more experiences.” This is not a new concept in Western science and philosophy. David Hume wrote in his Treatise of Human Nature (1739) that he saw human identities as “a bundle or collection of different perceptions, which succeed each other with an inconceivable rapidity, and are in a perpetual flux and movement.” It’s impossible to condemn yourself if your identity is constantly changing; the self that condemns, the self that is being condemened, and the self that contemplates condemnation are all distinct selves.
This differs from the XA approach of recognizing a Higher Power (“God as we understand him”) through which moral defects can be reconciled or remedied, instead asking participants to empower themselves to achieve acceptance independent of their behaviors. While XA meetings emphasize sharing one’s spiritual awakenings and deep personal struggles, SMART meetings are more focused on present struggles and expanding personal toolkits. In doing so, confession and the process of amends or compensation are more often considered in terms of their benefits to the individual. Many people are prone to self-blame spirals or regressing based on the opinions of others, and the process of making amends may not be necessary for them to feel like a changed person.
Recovery Dharma draws on Buddhist ideas of using forgiveness as a virtuous act of compassion for oneself and others, which cleanses us of the attachment which produces suffering analogously to the snake’s venom:
“Forgiveness is not so much something we are giving to the person who hurt us, but something we give to ourselves. It’s centered more on our own conscious intention in how we choose to respond to them. Just as we sometimes act out of fear, greed, or confusion, we see that others do too.” — Recovery Dharma
“We don’t make amends for the sake of satisfying some external standard of morality, to be forgiven, or to get something in return. Instead, we use the process as a way to let go of our expectations and disappointments in others and ourselves — in other words, to let go of our attachment to a different past.” — Recovery Dharma
Although guided by readings on the Eightfold Path, Recovery Dharma is based more on developing a compass for internal principles than a fellowship of collective rituals like the 12 steps. One distinction I’ve observed between the two camps of cleansing practices Douglas noted is that rituals that emphasize external confession with the implication of compensation also tend to rely on an external source of authority — the Higher Power of 12-step programs and arguably a sponsor. For non-theistic members of XA fellowships, this Higher Power can take the form of abstract concepts like love or personal commitments like the fellowship itself. The other bucket of cleansing practices focuses on removing ignorance and the suffering that stems from the attachment to wrongdoing done in the state of ignorance. This centers self-empowerment over an external source of power, though both are aimed at cleansing oneself of the trappings of the past and developing the temperament to stay clean in the future.
“I got really interested in Buddhism because I have a difficult time with the theistic aspects of AA. I’ve just always been a skeptic. One of the things I like about Buddhism is it’s like, believe what you believe. If this doesn’t seem true to you, don’t believe. We’re not going to burn you alive.” — Ben Affleck
To simplify a lengthy tangent: different recovery programs emphasize different approaches to reconciling past action with present desire for a better future. Within this range of approaches is also a range of ideas about the role honesty, confession, and amends play in purging oneself of the “pollution” or “sins” that create deep-seated emotional, moral, and spiritual discomfort. The anonymity of these groups allows individuals to take recovery at their own pace while being able to openly and honestly seek support. It’s not uncommon for XA participants to rework earlier steps or for SMART Recovery participants to start with the goal of moderation as harm-reduction. Many addicts “shop around” different recovery groups or implement a mix of them into their lives.
Catharsis Without Anonymity
One of the key benefits of anonymity is creating a safe space for a highly stigmatized disorder in which one can be honest without judgment from broader society or loved ones. Accountability is opt-in, not imposed.
“Often what I’ll say to people is, I would avoid [your addiction] coming out if I were you. You don’t need to be anybody’s poster child. You don’t need to fucking tell anybody. That’s why there’s two words on the front of the book. They’re just as important, both of them: Alcoholics Anonymous. It’s always anonymous.” — Ben Affleck
So, in the age of the Internet, a turbulent blend of total anonymity and total exposure, where does this leave us?
On one hand, it’s easier than ever to find anonymous recovery resources. Literature, Zoom meetings, and online forums can be very accessible options for people, especially after the uptick in drinking during the COVID quarantines. AA meetings have traditionally been the most popular in-person meeting option for those in recovery, but other options like SMART and Recovery Dharma have greatly expanded.
On the other hand, the Internet has created an omnipresent surveillance state that immortalizes all that it receives. Drunk texts, “schizoposting,” manic episodes, leaked nudes, old gossip, and other unsavory evidence becomes content for consumption that can resurface to retraumatize individuals in recovery. Even if someone is able to reconcile their past with an XA sponsor, a SMART group, a therapist, a religious advisor, or directly to a Higher Power and make amends to those they’ve hurt, the Internet invites the court of public opinion to continually judge them. This is bad enough for your average person who wants to change without an audience scrutinizing their every decision, particularly teens who are still developing their basic capacity for judgment and need to learn from their mistakes. For recovering addicts and those with mental health issues, a world that develops their first, and perhaps only, impression through online reputations can be a nightmare. It’s tough to feel like you’ve changed when you’re seeing constant reminders of your past, especially when it comes from unempathetic people using anonymity to mask their own toxic behaviors. As much as we can consciously recognize that what matters is how we feel about ourselves, not the judgment of others, we are social creatures who live in a world shared by others.
What drives my interest in The Way Back is Ben Affleck’s personal journey with alcoholism and how the movie serves as an elaborate form of confession for someone who never had the luxury of anonymity himself.
““I became — out of no desire of my own — one of the poster boys for actor alcoholism and recovery and the whole thing.”” — Ben Affleck
Celebrities have a reputation for being “out there,” whether it’s drug abuse or narcissism or other mental conditions that make for juicy tabloid gossip and forum rumors. Reportedly, over 23% of actors in Hollywood suffer from a substance abuse disorder. The Way Back takes Affleck’s lived experiences with alcoholism and projects that into ordinary life. With the unavoidable pervasiveness of the technology in all our lives, accompanied by the strain of fighting to keep public personas separate from private ones against an all-consuming behemoth of the Internet, I feel it’s worth exploring how a celebrity has dealt with recovery without anonymity and its implications for the catharsis from confession. As is commonly said in recovery spaces, look for similarities, not the differences.
The Has-Ben
In 1986, when Affleck’s parents had a divorce. He recalled the marriage being so bad that he felt relief, and he recalled his dad being a hardcore alcoholic who drank all the time. His dad’s mother and sister also struggled with drinking and depression, and the former had committed suicide. Throughout this time, Affleck’s grades suffered and he sought acting as an escape. After the divorce, his dad continued to drink, went through a couple years of homelessness, and entered a rehab when Affleck was 16. He stayed there for 12 years before working as an addiction counselor, and he has been sober ever since.
In 1997, Affleck rose in fame through Good Will Hunting which he both co-wrote and acted in. It was also around then, at the age of 24, that Affleck noted that he began having regrettable experiences with drinking from his lack of inhibition beyond the occasional experience that makes for a funny story. He started taking antidepressants at 26. A few years later, in 2001, Affleck had a hard night of partying after which Charlie Sheen drove him to Promises in Malibu for residential treatment. Promises is widely known as a luxury rehab center for celebrities; Bojack Horseman references it in parody with “Pastiches.”
In his own words: “I went to rehab for being 29 and partying too much and not having a lot of boundaries and to clear my head and try to get some idea of who I wanted to be… It was more a ‘let me get myself straight,’ before it became a rite of passage.” He also mentioned that he was 19 when his dad became sober and stayed so for decades.
For a couple of years, Affleck said he remained sober, until he made the all-too-common decision among recovering addicts to test if they can moderate again, to drink like a “normal person.” He reports that for about 8 years, he could, until it escalated as a form of escape from other sources of unhappiness and depression. A common theme among addicts is that they feel a lack of control over their life, such as, in Affleck’s case, staying in an unhappy marriage for the sake of children or struggles to make progress in their career.
“I drank relatively normally for a long time. What happened was that I started drinking more and more when my marriage was falling apart. This was 2015, 2016. My drinking, of course, created more marital problems.” — Ben Affleck
“You’re trying to make yourself feel better with eating or drinking or sex or gambling or shopping or whatever. But that ends up making your life worse. Then you do more of it to make that discomfort go away. Then the real pain starts. It becomes a vicious cycle you can’t break. That’s at least what happened to me.” — Ben Affleck
This is a painfully familiar story for addicts.
In the self-medicating hypothesis of addiction, the late Professor Khantzian theorized that the initial psychological impulses for drug abuse comes not from seeking pleasure but seeking relief from distress. An individual’s “drug of choice” often corresponds to the type of distress they’re experiencing and the type of relief they’re seeking. Stimulants like cocaine and meth energize individuals suffering from depression and improve focus for those suffering from ADHD. Depressants like alcohol relax stress and, in large quantities, can provide strong dissociation from intense emotions. As tolerance increases and dependence develops with long-term use, the lack of substances can itself become a source of distress to seek relief from. Meanwhile, the initial sources of distress, such as depression, anxiety, and PTSD, continue to worsen.
One model for this at the biochemistry level is the incentive-sensitization theory put forward by Professors Kent C. Berridge and Terry Robinson, which posits that addiction is the result of a hijacked reward system by associating dopamine with cues for drug use. Dopamine is often considered to be the chemical associated with pleasure, but Berridge and Robinson played a role in shifting our understanding of dopamine as an incentive mediator. While drug use initially brings pleasure, addicts use past the point of pleasure because of this dysfunctional reward system that produces intense cravings regardless. The idea of “liking” and “wanting” become separated, so that addicts can want something they don’t like to the point of death. This isn’t necessarily unique to those with a diagnosed substance abuse disorder, but it does reach a problematic extent that disrupts daily life to unmanageable levels. Some research suggests that some individuals, in part due to their genetic makeup, are predisposed to have low natural dopamine production but overly sensitive reward systems. They don’t receive as much reward from participating in the same activities as others, and they’re more likely to become focused on activities that do provide rewards.
As a 1981 Narcotics Anonymous pamphlet wrote (a quote that has been attributed incorrectly to Albert Einstein): “Insanity is repeating the same mistakes and expecting different results.” Addiction can be said to be a form of insanity in this way, where the brain’s reward systems are hijacked to crave a substance that the addict can rationally predict the consequences of using based on the past, yet pursue it anyways. The “real pain” Affleck speaks of comes when someone can fully acknowledge they have a problem, past the stage of denial and pleasure, but cannot resist the compulsive cravings that have been hijacked. Even if an addict addresses their initial sources of distress like depression, this hijacked reward system remains as a chronic condition, so that people who have years of sobriety can still relapse to an even worse state than before. An estimated 70% of alcoholics relapse at some point in recovery.
“People with compulsive behavior, and I am one, have this kind of basic discomfort all the time that they’re trying to make go away.” — Ben Affleck
Affleck went through a cycle of relapses followed by sobriety in 2017, 2018, and 2019. The last was filmed by TMZ and is immortalized on the Internet, which Affleck regretted in part because his kids would see it.
“Relapse is embarrassing, obviously,” he said. “I wish it didn’t happen. I really wish it wasn’t on the internet for my kids to see. Jen and I did our best to address it and be honest.” — Ben Affleck
The Way Back
In 2020, Affleck made the The Way Back. It was initially called The Has-Been and had a bigger emphasis on Affleck’s character’s past as a high school athlete but evolved to focus more on the character’s present struggles. Perhaps that reflected his own career struggles as someone who had immense early success with Good Will Hunting followed by a roller-coaster of successes and flops, the latest of which involved his role as Batman in several movies that coincided with heavy drinking in isolation.
“I showed somebody the Batman script… They said, ‘I think the script is good. I also think you’ll drink yourself to death if you go through what you just went through again.’” — Ben Affleck
Ben plays an alcoholic ironworker named Jack Cunningham. One of the things I appreciate most about this movie is the pathetic grittiness of Jack’s drinking. Some movies like 28 Days with Sandra Bullock or The Wolf of Wall Street with Leonardo DiCaprio focus on the chaotic hurricanes and casual destruction of active addiction. For many addicts, reality is far more depressing.
“An actor who wasn’t an alcoholic or an addict would want to sort of illustrate it, show it, demonstrate it… And my experience — especially toward the end of the period of my time in my life when I was drinking — was that it was more drawn in, withdrawn, separate, isolating. And ritualistic and self-soothing, rather than what you think of as ‘drunkenness’ that you often see, which is crazy and out of control. The guy in there is withdrawing into himself.” — Ben Affleck
The movie opens with a somber montage of the average day in Jack’s life. He is first shown at work hiding his drink in a cup, then doing the same on a drive to a bar where he drinks openly. The morning after, he brings a beer into the shower. This is commonly called “functional alcoholism,” where someone has enough external success to justify their level of excessive drinking even if they deny they have a problem. They may maintain their job, their relationships, their health, and other aspects of life — at least superficially — but are still spiraling as their tolerance increases and excuses compound. Rarely is this sustainable.
The day of Thanksgiving, Jack stops by a liquor store to get drinks for dinner at his sister’s home. Before he heads inside to have beers, he chugs vodka directly from the bottle. Veteran alcoholics will identify with this solo “pre-gaming” when they know they’re going to drink with others and don’t want to raise concerns but want to drink more than would be socially acceptable. When he comes in, his sister chastises him for not calling about being late or picking up calls, to which he responds that he doesn’t have his phone on him before quickly moving on. Jack makes a point of leaving his phone at home as if it were an answering machine rather than keeping it with him to stay in regular contact with others.
Later that night, Jack meets his sister Beth in the kitchen as he goes to grab a late-night beer while she’s sipping on wine. She gently expresses concern about Jack being alone and “drinking all the time,” but he dismisses the gesture and claims he’s fine. She pushes the issue further by mentioning that Jack’s ex-wife, Ang, had called to ask about his well-being. This time, Jack is visibly upset and grows defensive: “Why didn’t she call me directly?” Beth confesses that her friend, Kathy Collins, had been seeing Jack’s car parked in front of a bar every night. In a fit of misdirected anger and volatility, he attacks Kathy for her weight, backhands his beer off the kitchen table, and curtly asks “which of the 20 rooms” his sister wants him to stay in.
““She’s pressing to see if he’s OK, and I know how uncomfortable that can be for an alcoholic — when you have that nagging, irritating, suspicious feeling that the person is right, but you don’t want to admit it. Smacking the can was my version of backed-into-a-corner, primal level of denial, the way our minds hold onto these addictions in a reptilian way.”” — Ben Affleck
Denial and defensiveness have their roots in intolerable states of distress, and concern from others can be a threat to those maladaptive coping mechanisms. Under the self-medication hypothesis, an addict who uses in response to underlying depression or trauma may be trying to escape the intensity of those emotions with a depressant like alcohol. Concern may threaten to bring those emotions and the associated memories to the surface by bursting the bubble of dissociation. Concern can also threaten someone’s illusion of stability or competence, suggesting that they may be weaker or more dependent than they are comfortable acknowledging. This is sometimes a part of unhealthy social expectations of men who were raised to conceal their vulnerabilities and project a powerful external persona. Anger then can be a socially acceptable — or at least conditioned — response that protects vulnerability from surfacing. Anger in the form of avoidance and deflection is especially useful to those with egos who can redirect focus to another’s flaws to feel empowered, as is commonly seen in narcissists.
“It took me a long time to fundamentally, deeply, without a hint of doubt, admit to myself that I am an alcoholic… The next drink will not be different.” — Ben Affleck
Jack retires to his room but not before leaving a drunk voicemail to Ang. The next morning, he returns home to find more voicemails of people asking for him. One is from the dad of his late son’s friend inviting him for dinner, which Jack doesn’t even finish listening to. The other is from a priest, Father Devine, at his old high school, which piques his interest. I appreciate the detail that Jack isn’t shown cooking himself a meal, instead unfurling a burrito he picked up on the way home because he doesn’t take care of himself enough to actually cook a meal. There’s a certain bloated quality to Ben Affleck’s appearance here that contrasts with his former role as Batman.
In our next scene, we see Jack coming in-person to discuss an opportunity to coach the basketball team at his old high school that he was also on. From the interactions he has with Betty, a school staff member, and Father Devine, it’s clear that Jack was remembered fondly. Devine mentions that the last time the team even made playoffs was when Jack was on the team. Jack attempts to turn down the offer with a lie that his life is just too busy at the moment, but Devine insists he go back and think it over.
We then get a montage of Jack demolishing beer after beer as he rehearses his rejection. I appreciate the detail of Jack moving a couple cans from the fridge to the freezer over the night, which is a familiar pattern among alcoholics who go through drinks too fast for them to cool in the fridge. At first, he’s apologetic. He claims he has too much going on to accept the responsibility and that he’s been away from the game too long to be any good. As he reaches the end of his stash and makes a trip to the bathroom as is custom for alcoholics as the night goes on, he slips into a nastier temperament; he says the team is just too shitty for him to fix. By the next morning, in the middle of his shower beer, he decides to give it a shot anyways, perhaps in a state of regret of a wasted day where the only thing he was busy with was drinking.
It’s notable that in this depiction of alcoholism, Jack is remembered fondly by the people around him who repeatedly try to express concern for his well-being. Lots of movies about addiction feature people who leave a trail of destruction in their wake, which definitely does happen to many addicts with a pattern of using and lashing out, but many addicts withdraw voluntarily from their community of support and leave people concerned. It’s not as dramatic for media to depict a slow fall from grace compared to the entertainment value of The Wolf of Wall Street, in which substance abuse yields both slapstick comedy and climaxes with huge stakes for the story’s world.
The next scenes establish the team members who are fairly archetypal. There’s the guy motivated by impressing girls, the overconfident guy who will predictably have to humble himself to stay on the team, the competent quiet one who struggles to voice himself confidently, etc. Both I and the movie have little interest in unpacking these characters beyond their use in developing Jack’s story. The school’s algebra teacher, Dan, is an assistant coach who was on the team a couple years after Jack and appreciates his team’s former glory. We hear his sob story later as a caretaker for his mom, who suffers from MS, which further establishes the underdog archetype of the team. Jack quickly establishes his authority in front of the team and gets to work.
One detail I appreciate is that Jack has to wear a coat and tie as part of the coach’s dress code, and he has to dig for a while through his closet and boxes to find one. I think it’s fair to infer that he’s been cycling between different sets of casual work clothes ever since his separation from his wife, and he hasn’t been attending social events where dressing nicely would be expected. He mainly seems to socialize at the bar where he ends up so drunk that he needs help getting home. Also, before the first game, Jack is seen nervously pacing in his office and knocking back Tic-Tacs in a way that many drinkers do to cover the smell of alcohol on their breath. He bluntly tells Father Whelan, the team’s chaplain, that he’s nervous as shit in a way that makes Whelan slightly uncomfortable.
The first game is predictably a disaster. The movie spares us footage except for a silly team dance before it starts, which I appreciate as an outsider to the world of sports media. Instead, we cut quickly to Ben at the bar telling jokes to the other regulars before a friend referred to as Doc guides him home. His regular routine of beer in the morning shower followed by day-drinking on the job is shown again as is another disappointing game from the team. This time however, when he arrives home, he hears Angela has left a voicemail asking if he’d like to get lunch with her.
They meet at a restaurant on the pier and start with cordial small talk. Angela mentions she hears Jack started coaching basketball. In a passive-aggressive tone that reflects his earlier resentment for people discussing their concerns for him behind his back, he asks her if Beth told her that. Angela tries to smooth over the awkwardness by refocusing the discussion to his experience coaching the team as he says it keeps his mind off “other things,” alluding to their son’s death and their separation, but the attempt falls flat quickly. She calmly tells him she was worried about him while looking off into the distance while Jack looks directly at her and seems to get more direct and confrontational. My read on this exchange is that Jack has been ruminating on the distance between them as he resents her for moving on while still expressing concern for him. He’s determined to get answers from her whereas she’s trying to check-in with some fear for his reaction. Eventually, she tells him that she’s now seeing someone else since it’s been over a year of separation. He’s clearly upset, but she pointedly mentions that she’s telling him directly so that he didn’t need to hear it from someone else. She leaves quickly before they even order.
We see that Jack has a pattern of lashing out at people expressing their concern to him directly, which is why they discuss their concerns behind his back to begin with. He’s the source of his own complaints by setting up this lose-lose situation for everyone in his life that drives them away. This is another common pattern in addicts who are spiraling. Their loved ones may express concern directly about how they’re doing, which triggers a defensive reaction to avoid directly confronting the suffering they’re self-medicating. With Beth, this came out as aggression through misdirected anger. With Angela, this came out as passive-aggressive resentment.
This pattern is further established in the next horrendous game the team plays. Jack’s frustration from this exchange with Angela leads him to set an aggressive example for the team. He screams at them that they’re playing like a bunch of pussies and encourages them to get rough. When they do, a fight nearly ensues between the two teams on the court. Father Whelan tries to remind Jack that the goal is not winning but developing character by setting a positive example and encouraging sportsmanship. Jack responds by trivializing Whelan’s emphasis on integrating faith and religious principles into daily life. Dan confronts Jack about finding beer cans in the school’s office, and Jack provides an unconvincing lie that he shared them with a friend that came by: “You’re not going to break my balls over a couple beer cans, are you?”
However, that night, Jack seems to reflect on these recent series of events. He pulls into the bar’s parking lot but drives away instead. The team barely scrapes a win in the next game as parallel to Jack’s own trajectory of barely abstaining from hitting the bar, but it creates positive momentum for both as well. The team begins winning games more consistently, and Jack begins engaging more with the team’s growth. He still swears excessively at games and is chastised by Father Whelan for it, but there’s an improvement in their exchanges: “I’m working on it” / “Work harder.” The next montage shows the theme that “little things add up” until we become tough to beat. After every game, Jack asks “What did we learn last night?” Instead of drinking at work, we see him drafting new strategies for the team, though I was relieved to be spared of detailed play-by-plays.
“I don’t know all the answers. I’m only an expert in my own failings. But the more expert you become in your own failings, interestingly, the less likely you are to repeat them, I’ve found. That is how my life has been getting better.” — Ben Affleck
Jack even calls Angela about heading to the birthday party of his late son’s friend, and the two are able to be there and be civil together. Afterward, they visit their son’s grave, and Angela prays for him.
Unfortunately, this is where Jack begins to experience setbacks. His wounds become apparent to us in the audience now. While Angela holds onto faith that their son is in a better place now and moves on with her life, Jack holds onto the anger and suffering that results. The party is triggering for both of them, but Angela says she gets angry again, while Jack says he never stopped being angry. He misdirects this at her, denying that she suffers too because she isn’t stuck in the past like he is. This is also a recurring theme with addicts. The lack of skills in healing from past wounds and traumas lead to constantly reliving triggers that incite the craving to use, as well as jealousy and resentment of those who can move on. Almost like crabs in a bucket, the desire to not be alone in misery causes addicts to seek company. To quote The Offspring, “the more you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right?”
Before this next game, Jack is having a lunch with his sister’s family. His nephew has been closely following the games and is excitedly raving about the team. Beth asks if anyone wants a drink, but Jack is content with his non-alcoholic drink like everyone else. However, when the game actually happens, Jack misdirects his anger again, this time towards the ref until he gets a technical foul and has to be escorted off the court by Whelan. Tensions are high since winning this game would be the team’s best chance at the playoffs, but the nerves impact the team’s performance, and they lose just barely. As Dan says: “this team has never played a game that’s mattered before.” This shakiness is also reflected in Jack’s personal resolve; he’s never invested in something that required him to show up, be present, and set an example ever since he spiraled into drinking after his son’s death. His sister’s family, including his young nephew, are horrified at his outburst.
Later that night, the team captain, whose dad isn’t supportive of basketball due to rough past experiences of his own, asks Jack why he left that world when he was offered a full scholarship to the University of Kansas. Jack unveils more of his past here: his dad neglected him except for the times he proved his talent through basketball. By self-destructing, he was trying to hurt his father by hurting himself. He notes he made a lot of bad choices by abandoning his potential and getting into drugs. Part of this mimics Ben’s own early childhood experiences, where his parent’s divorce and father’s drinking led him to stop trying as much in school. His grades suffered as a result and his dad was absent from his life while in active alcoholism. He notes that he and his family had a history of mental illness that he addresses alongside his recovery efforts, such as taking antidepressants to manage his depression.
Recovery isn’t just about abstinence tools and coping skills to manage cravings. It’s also about healing from psychic and emotional wounds that led to drugs in the first place. Alice Miller’s The Drama of the Gifted Child is a popular book about the emotional abuse suffered by children who are highly attuned to their caregivers’ feelings and develop a false self to appease them while repressing their true feelings. As a result, children who are constantly receiving praise for their external successes lack a stable sense of self-reassurance. Instead, they derive their sense of value and security from outside themselves which leads to a distressing split in identity and a crisis of self-worth. Self-destructive tendencies can arise from this as a form of asserting one’s authentic identity and autonomy against the constructed false self. What appears to be senseless self-destruction is actually destroying the external conditions that define one’s value. This is a huge reason honesty and confession bring catharsis, especially for addicts who spiral deep into loss and confusion with the inability to tolerate their own internal conflicts.
“The psychological rule says that when an inner situation is not made conscious, it happens outside, as fate. That is to say, when the individual remains undivided and does not become conscious of his inner contradictions, the world must perforce act out the conflict and be torn into opposite halves.” — Carl Jung
Jack’s external self-destruction stemmed from the conflict within him, between the desire for unconditional parental love and the low self-worth from conditional attention. He found within himself his father’s rule of conditional love, and so by attacking himself, he could also attack the system of conditional love that left him feeling his own worth was conditional. When Jack said he was always angry to Angela and associates suffering with caring, that stems from these childhood patterns. His anger is directed at himself for internalizing his father’s conditional approval that led to low self-worth, but he misdirects this outwardly because he’s afraid of confronting the trauma and neglect head-on. Part of this philosophy came out earlier when he yelled at the team: “I don’t care if we lose every fucking game this season, I will not coach a team that has been out-toughed.” Misdirecting anger outward without regard for the consequences is an easier path to take compared to healing from trauma, especially when considering the stereotypical expectations of men to hide vulnerability to remain secure in their masculinity. The fact that his father only paid attention to him for athletic achievements suggests he may have grown up in an environment that heavily enforced those expectations.
Right after this, Jack gets hit with bad news. His late son’s friend, who had been in remission from cancer, appears to have had a serious medical event from which he won’t recover. At the hospital, he finds himself reliving the experience of losing his own son again and leaves the hospital immediately to head to a bar. Many people without any history of substance abuse don’t realize this, but for addicts, relapse isn’t often a gradual process. Spirals are quick and hit worse rock bottoms than the last use.
Jack drinks to the point of showing up late and intoxicated at the team’s practice, even though he was able to show up to work on time before. He unconvincingly claims that his power went out and disabled his alarm clock as the reason for him being late. Later, Dan and Father Devine confront him in his office to fire him. Just moments before they enter, Jack is pouring vodka into his coffee just like he used to at his previous job. Devine starts out gentle but firm: “I’m worried that this might be part of a larger problem, Jack. Would that be true?”
Just like his reaction at the start of the movie to Beth expressing concerns about his drinking, Jack gets upset first with Dan being unwilling to talk to him directly. He forgets that Dan did come to him earlier about the beer cans he found in his office, which Dan reminds him about as well as the fact Jack lied repeatedly. Dan mentions both he and the team could smell the alcohol coming off of Jack. Now that he can’t hide his problem, he pleads to at least keep coaching the team to the playoffs because it was just a bad night that he has under control. Devine is firm that he can’t accept responsibility for Jack being around the boys because of a zero-tolerance policy around alcohol: “I’m afraid you’ve made this decision for me, Jack.”
Psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross is credited with popularizing “The 5 Stages of Loss.” Although the model is not empirically supported or used in actual mental health interventions, and even Kübler-Ross refuted the idea that the stages were linear or mutually exclusive of each other, some of the concepts do emerge in people’s reaction to shocks or tragedies. At the very least, it provides a vocabulary to discuss emotional states. In Jack’s case, he first denies he has a problem while getting angry that his excuse isn’t working. Then he moves into bargaining where he admits he had a problem but that it’s under control, begging at least to stay on until the team’s playoffs. When Devine holds firm to his boundary, Jack bargains with anger instead, attacking Dan for just being a math teacher incapable of coaching the team. His “acceptance” when he surrenders his keys is still from a place of anger as if he’s the reasonable one dealing with unreasonable people.
Another tidbit for the non-addicts here: a common myth that alcoholics buy into is that vodka is less noticeable than other types of hard liquor, supposedly because it smells less and is more easily disguised as water. Hardcore alcoholics will tell you about times they were so wasted that they couldn’t tell which one they were drinking.
This setback causes Jack to spiral even further. He hits a bar all by himself, gets extremely drunk, drives home with a woman who bought him drinks, and crashes his car into someone’s boat-trailer. In a panic, she tells him to drive around back and meet her at her house, except Jack stumbles into the wrong one in a drunken stupor. A physical altercation ensues with the homeowners where Jack tumbles down the stairs of the house and lands on the street.
When he wakes up, he’s at the hospital with his sister. This is a rock-bottom moment for Jack. He’s said deeply hurtful things to his ex-wife. He’s shocked his nephew who looked up to him. He’s lost the purpose he found in coaching the team. He’s endangered himself and others multiple times in a single night, including reckless levels of drinking under the influence. He narrowly avoids a confrontation with police after the homeowners called them for breaking and entering, only because of a stumble that landed him in the hospital instead. His injuries could have been far worse given how far he fell. Beth sums it up succinctly: “You’re gonna kill yourself if you keep going like this. That’s why I’m going to get you some help, okay?”
The next scene of Jack is in therapy, presumably at a rehab facility given that he later states “I should have come here a long time ago” in a conversation with Angela. His therapist mentions an earlier family session with his mother and sister, who said he had isolated himself since his son died. He tepidly accepts this. His therapist also notes that he never talks about his son, suggesting that he’s been repressing his grief about his loss and rarely opens up about it.
In real life, many rehabs and therapies integrate family sessions while the addict works on recovery. Part of this can involve making amends and improving communication with trained facilitators, but part of it can also involve education for the family to understand addiction as a disease. It’s incredibly difficult for non-addicts to empathize or even sympathize with substance abuse disorders. This is true of all mental illnesses, but the destructive nature of addiction makes it especially difficult for people to understand. Addicts themselves are confused by their behavior. My personal opinion is that this stems from the separation of “like” and “want” that results from a hijacked dopamine system that compels subconscious cravings in addicts despite their conscious acknowledgment that they would intensely dislike the consequences of using again.
This scene is the first time Jack actually discusses what sticks in his mind about his son, and it’s a painful recounting of all the medical issues his son had: “I don’t know what they want me to say. I could talk about the uh, tumors in his brain and spine. Thirty rounds of radiation. He used to scream when he had seizures. Nobody wants to hear that.” The soundtrack for this movie is minimalist and admittedly repetitive, but the somber piano does serve effectively as a cue for Jack being possessed by the feelings of his depression again. When it plays this time, we realize that all the times Jack had been quietly ruminating with a drink in his hand before and this score in the background, he was reliving these details about his son’s decline and death.
Earlier, I mentioned how addicts often react to concern with aggression because concern can awaken repressed emotions that the addict is using substances to avoid dealing with directly. When Beth expressed concern that Jack was drinking alone all the time at the start of the movie, he reacts by verbally attacking her friend and backhanding a beer can across the room. When Jack and Angela meet for lunch, her mention of Jack seeing the world in dark ways and being unable to move on is met with Jack passive-aggressively interrogating her about how she’s been able to move on. When Angela tells Jack she can tell he’s suffering after he mentions he’s always angry, he immediately misdirects that at her by denying her suffering too. Although Devine was firm about setting boundaries to keep Jack away from the team, he was sincere about getting Jack help as well.
Jack is essentially incapable of handling concern from the people around him who care because doing so resurfaces his repressed emotions related to the trauma of losing his son. Unlike Angela who makes an effort to move on, Jack’s earlier childhood neglect from his father and rebellion through self-destruction remains a familiar template for his behavior. He’s uncomfortable with vulnerability because he was used to having his feelings dismissed in his childhood, and he doesn’t have the self-worth to believe he deserves to heal. Instead, he wallows in a rut of depression and continues to self-destruct in an angry rebellion against the unfairness of life until he has to make a decision: does he want to die a slow painful death, or does he want to pick up the pieces and move on? As his therapist says: “We can’t change the past, Jack. What we can do is choose how to move forward. Think about Michael. What would he want for you?”
This is a critical juncture for Jack. He has to retrain his mindset about the role of Michael’s death in his life. Instead of reliving the painful memories and being angry at things he can’t control, Jack’s “way back” is in thinking about what Michael would want for him as a way to develop a sense of self-worth and purpose. It allows him not only to take an event that led him to fixate on the events of his past and transform it into a purpose for the future, but it also allows him to build his identity from a place of positive connection. The familiar template of behavior stemming from the memory of his father’s neglect can be replaced with a template of behavior motivated by his son’s love.
After this, Jack meets with Angela again to make amends:
“I know that I failed you. And I know that I failed our marriage. I failed our son ‘cause I didn’t take care of his mom. And I hope that uh, one day you can see in me the man that, uh, that you once hoped I would be. I’m so sorry.”
The director mentioned that Ben had a “total breakdown” after filming this scene:
“I think that Ben, in an artistic way, in a deeply human way, wanted to confront his own issues through this character and heal.”
“It was like a floodgate opened up. It was startling and powerful. I think that was a very personal moment in the movie. I think that was him.” — Gavin O’Connor
Ben said about his actual marriage to Jennifer Garner:
“The biggest regret of my life is this divorce. Shame is really toxic. There is no positive byproduct of shame. It’s just stewing in a toxic, hideous feeling of low self-worth and self-loathing.” — Ben Affleck
And about Jack:
“It was really important, without being mawkish or false, that he make amends to her — that he take accountability for the pain that he and only he has caused” — Ben Affleck
This is the catharsis Ben experiences through confession.
“This guy’s had a very different life from mine, but what was interesting about the story was I hoped people would find some catharsis in watching him go through something very difficult. I was concerned that I have to find ways to make this as realistic as possible.” — Ben Affleck
As the movie closes out, Jack doesn’t regain his position as a coach or join his wife in marriage again. However, the positive impacts he made still persist in the team who dedicate the next game in the playoffs to him. The announcers acknowledge this too: “We said earlier that coach Jack Cunningham, the man responsible for this amazing turnaround wasn’t able to be on the bench today. But you have to imagine he’d be very proud of the way these boys are playing.” / “I can remember watching Jack as a player. He was tough, intense, competitive, and he has instilled in these boys all the qualities that made him such a winner. And you can see Jack’s imprint all over this team. Clearly a reflection of their coach. I have never seen a high school team with this much composure.” We end the movie with Jack picking up a basketball again and shooting hoops outdoors by himself, closing the loop of his character when he said he never picked up a basketball again after he started self-destructing to get back at his dad.
Some Criticisms
For a movie called The Way Back, there’s unfortunately very little focus on the gritty details of recovery. It’s much more focused on the emotional arc that reflects the feelings Ben Affleck wants to express about the struggles he’s had. There is of course a lot of value in that alone, both for the audience and for the actors involved, but non-addicts might walk away with the impression that turning around your life as an addict is as simple as overcoming denial and accepting responsibility for moving on from the past. This is just one part of the recovery journey, and it’s not anywhere near as simple as it comes across in the movie. Talk therapy is just one of the many modalities addicts explore as they heal from trauma and find diagnoses for co-occurring disorders like depression, anxiety, personality disorders, etc. Jack doesn’t undergo any withdrawal symptoms in the movie, but in real life, Post-Acute Withdrawal Syndrome (PAWS) can cause effects that linger for months or even years into sobriety as the body learns to regulate itself again. Alcohol and benzodiazepines are the two main substances whose withdrawals can actually be fatal, and it’s highly recommended to seek medical assistance if someone is detoxing from either. There are serious risks of strokes, seizures, and internal bleeding. Rehabs will usually monitor blood pressure and heart rate every couple hours for the first week at least. While rehab programs focused on detox are roughly 30 days in length, many addicts are referred to Partial Hospitalization Programs or Inpatient/Outpatient Programs where they may continue residential treatment for several more months. Jack also isn’t shown at any type of recovery meetings in the movie, even though Ben Affleck attends AA meetings in real life and credits other actors like Bradley Cooper and Robert Downey Jr. as being sources of support.
My Takeaways
“One of the things about recovery that I think people sometimes overlook is the fact that it inculcates certain values. Be honest. Be accountable. Help other people. Apologize when you’re wrong.” — Ben Affleck
Despite playing the strong silent type as Batman, Ben Affleck does a great job showing the cost of maintaining that veneer in real life through Jack Cunningham. Standards of masculinity that discourage honesty and vulnerability can lead to repressed anger that manifests itself in depression through anger turned inward and misdirected outbursts through anger turned outward. The absence of unconditional love in early childhood and adolescence can lead to feelings of low self-worth and a spiral of shame. The combination of these factors means that even though Jack is surrounded by people who either look up to him or want the best for him, he can’t be vulnerable enough to accept their concern. He isolates himself which leaves him with nothing but reliving traumatic memories and a lack of affirming connection that erodes his self-worth.
For addicts, this cycle eventually leads to either institutionalization or death if there isn’t something to pull them out. As Step 1 of XA says, addicts must admit that their “lives had become unmanageable.” That’s the point at which Carl Jung had said one must have a spiritual awakening to make whole the fractured parts of themselves. Ben Affleck has cited The Gospel of Matthew, which bridges Judaism and Christianity, as well as Buddhist philosophy to guide his life forward. Regardless of the traditions one follows, or lack thereof, what Ben demonstrates with The Way Back is confessing the crisis he was in through the medium of film. His honesty does not happen within the safety of anonymity like most recovery groups provide their members, but he uses that to his advantage. He accepts this as an opportunity to share his catharsis in a uniquely artistic way as a kind of service.
I won’t deny that in choosing to write, the medium in which I have been most comfortable finding expression, I see an opportunity for cathartic confession myself. I hope it may be of service to someone.