My wife and I disagree on many things, but nothing more striking than the quality of Patch Adams.
Catherine lists Patch Adams as one of her all-time favorite films. I list Patch Adams as anal discharge.
To me, one scene in this you-can-change-the-world-if-you-just-believe saga from brain dead hell sums up my feelings: Early in the film, Patch (Robin Williams) is trying to prove to a medical school classmate that laughter is the best medicine. So he climbs a tree, then dangles down just as an elderly woman passes by. “You’ll see,” he tells his peer. “Just watch.”
In the real world, Bertha has a heart attack and dies. Hell, she’s probably 85, and this strange man pops out of a tree. Surely, he’s a mugger. Maybe even a rapist.
Here, in Patch Adams, she giggles like a child. Literally, she giggles, then shoos her hand in that you-wacky-kidder motion. It is inane and pathetic; the worst genre of movie moment.
Making matters worse, Williams character spends much of the movie hitting on a fellow student, played by Monica Potter. She is initially repulsed, but over time (and, of course, laughs) he begins to win her heart. Yet more than reaffirming or joyful, it’s creepy. Williams is 20 years older than Potter in real life, and no matter Mork’s comb-over, it just screams, “Ew.”
