Screenwriter
Bo Goldman’s first encounter with nursing was with a German labor
and delivery nurse who attended his newborn brother. Her name
was Benz. "This was just before the war, with Hitler on the
horizon," Goldman said. "She was terrifying. She was
huge and scary. ... She was obsessive about sanitation. The baby
was always clean. The blanket was always clean and everything
had to be clean." Some images are hard to shake.
When asked
to think of a nurse in the movies, many likely still think of
Nurse Ratched in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,"
the screenplay for which Goldman won an Oscar. The character,
played by Louise Fletcher, has become almost synonymous with the
disciplinarian medical professional—a nurse whose unyielding worldview
and sadism, when unchecked, could provoke a homicidal meltdown
in her emotionally regressed patients.
To bring the
character from Ken Kesey’s novel to the screen, Goldman based
Nurse Ratched in part on his imperious mother-in-law, he said,
not Benz. But he was quick to add that the images in the movies,
in any case, do not necessarily jibe with his feelings about real-life
nurses. He said that in every profession there are "artists"
and "practitioners." He admires artists.
"I think
that one of the saddest things in the world," Goldman said,
"is that two of the most noble professions—teaching and nursing,
particularly nurses who work in hospices and with terminal patients—get
paid [almost nothing] for that calling."
Although Hollywood
movies usually live or die by the strength of their characters
(flawed or not), nurses often have chafed at the way they are
depicted.
"I don’t
think that movies accurately portray nurses as they really are,"
said Susan Woods, Ph.D., RN, FAAN, associate dean of academic
programs at the University of Washington School of Nursing. "We
have nearly 6 percent who are men. We have nurses who are researchers,
scientists and teachers. I don’t think there’s anything [in film]
that portrays the scope of what a nurse does."
With nursing
shortages acute enough to warrant congressional attention, some
organizations have turned their attention to image. Nurse advocates
say that negative images have started to prove costly, especially
the idea of a nurse as a technical professional who only works
with her hands, crippled by her inability to take
the lead.
Screenwriters,
of course, tend not to look too closely at technical aspects of
professions; they mine emotional potential. Nurses carry a lot
of emotional freight. After all, they work with the dying. They
intimately handle people’s bodies.
"When
I think of the idea of a nurse, I think of somebody caring,"
said Walter Bernstein, another veteran Hollywood screenwriter
whose sister-in-law is a head nurse in Miami. "The devotion
that nurses supply, doctors often lack. Many doctors don’t see
the patient as anything more than his or her disease, rarely as
the whole person. I found in my experience that good nurses do
see the person."
Lingering
stereotypes
Nurse
archetypes go back much further than today’s shortage. Some have
their origins as far back as the 19th century, Bernstein said.
"It started in silent movies," he said. "The nurse
figure is a potent one because she has power. You are lying there
in bed. You’re at her mercy. Or his."
Although Nurse
Ratched is the cultural yardstick, other stereotypes linger as
well. There’s the sexpot nurse and there’s the selfless nurse
type, inspired by Florence Nightingale.
Comedic nurses
often are overtly sexual, their skill for caring twisted into
some absurd adolescent fantasy. B-movie producer Roger Corman
created a cottage industry based on this notion in his "sexy
nurse" movies from the 1970s. In the late 1980s, the American
Nurses Association protested the NBC show "Nightingales,"
which portrayed its professionals as nubile sex kittens, said
Anne Hudson Jones, Ph.D., a professor of literature and medicine
at the University of Texas Medical Branch at Galveston.
The sexy image
comes from turn-of-the-century burlesque shows, said Tom Gunning,
a film historian at the University of Chicago.
"A lot
of comedians started out in burlesque," Gunning said. "You
get that very early coming into film. There’s a film called "Wanted:
A Nurse" from 1906. It’s a play on the nursing image as something
sexy. That continues in comedy through today."
Then there’s
the saint type—her every gesture one of monastic self-sacrifice
and discipline. The epitome of this kind of nurse is the version
of Florence Nightingale in the 1936 film "The White Angel,"
said Jones, who compiled several essays on the subject for her
1988 book Images of Nurses: Perspectives from History, Art
and Literature (now out of print).
"The
White Angel" came out in the 1930s," Jones said, "along
with a spate of other films that put medicine and physicians in
an idealistic light." "The White Angel" was endorsed
by the ANA and praised as an educational effort, but didn’t have
much commercial impact, Jones said.
In the 1996
film "The English Patient," Juliette Binoche plays Hana,
a nurse whose devotion to her patient leads her to stay with him
under dangerous wartime circumstances. The character could be
considered one aspect of the Florence Nightingale type, although
she does not have the military mindset.
Bernstein
depicted a self-sacrificing nurse as the protagonist to tell a
story about the Tuskegee syphilis study in "Miss Evers’ Boys,"
a 1997 HBO film. Based on a true story, the film dramatizes an
experiment in which several African-American syphilis patients
are studied (but not treated) under a program funded by the U.S.
government. Although the nurse (played by Alfre Woodard) finds
the experiment immoral, she stays on because the patients have
come to depend on her.
"She
was the one with the moral dilemma," Bernstein said. "She
could rationalize what she was doing because she claimed she was
helping. … At the same time, she was under very heavy influence
of doctors. If that’s what the doctor said, that’s what you did."
Boys
on the side
Male
nurses, meanwhile, are perennial nonstarters in mainstream film,
who suffer the slings and arrows of ridicule. When he meets his
girlfriend’s macho, hard-nosed father for the first time, Ben
Stiller’s character as a male nurse in "Meet The Parents"
finds that being called Florence Nightingale is not always a good
thing. At least if you’re a man.
Perhaps the
film’s family is the real object of satire. But 50 years ago,
"male nurse" could easily be read in a film as homosexual.
This kind of shorthand is an important tool of screenwriters.
"I always
thought of [Nurse Ratched] as a nurse second and a control freak
first," Goldman said. "She was a terrifying woman, an
emasculating and castrating creature."
He also says
characters with such striking qualities help summon dichotomies
in human nature. "I think that every lawyer is a criminal
and in any doctor there is a sadist," he said. "In every
nurse—never mind Florence Nightingale or Mother Teresa—is a sadist’s
accomplice."
Saved
by the tube?
Television,
ironically, has provided both the best and worst depictions of
real-life nurses. On the one hand, there are shows such as NBC’s
short-lived "Nightingales," with its locker-room shenanigans.
But then,
on the same network, there’s "ER." The latter program,
applauded by nurse viewers, not only portrays characters of unusual
depth and nuance, but one of its leads, a nurse played by Julianna
Margulies, declined an opportunity to go to medical school because
she saw that she could make more of a difference in her own field.
Of course,
character being paramount, it also should be noted that she tried
to commit suicide in the pilot episode.
"I think
["ER"] shows the role nurses can play in the emergency
room and how important they are," Woods said. "It also
shows the role nurses can play in patient advocacy, community
advocacy."
"Our
prime nurse right now is Abby [played by Maura Tierney],"
said R. Scott Gemmill, a writer/producer with "ER."
"Abby
had a drinking problem. She is someone who is a smoker. We get
heat from the network for portraying anyone who smokes. Yet it’s
very real. A lot of nurses are smokers. That’s how they deal with
things.
"Our
nurses aren’t all stereotypical. They don’t play sex bombs. They
come in all sizes and colors."
To make characters
three-dimensional means showing them with flaws and all, Gemmill
said.
"Some
[nurses] are maybe a little hardened by the job," he said.
"That’s what makes it interesting. We don’t think you have
to portray them all as these perfect little Florence Nightingales.
Not everyone can have a perfect day. You do make mistakes and
you do bite people’s heads off. That’s what’s interesting and
that’s what drama is about."