by Robert Bouffard, Editor
In the last few years, I’ve found myself being frustrated with documentaries about famous people when said famous person is involved. A recent example is Selena Gomez: My Mind & Me a doc that is, while honest, obviously guarded and ultimately mean to be a PR piece for the megastar. The same can be said about 2020’s Miss Americana, or even The Redeem Team from earlier this year. But this recent context is also what helped me appreciate Stutz, a documentary directed by Jonah Hill about his therapist.
Since this is another doc that could easily have devolved into a self-serving piece of PR for the uber famous actor, it’s actually refreshingly honest, and even cutting at some points. Hill and Phil Stutz, his therapist, have developed an intense relationship over the five years since they started seeing each other — it seems to have surpassed that of just a therapist and their client. Stutz’s practices and philosophies have affected Hill so much that he felt like he needed to make a movie about them so that other people could get something out of it as well.
Hill’s initial goal was to make this all about the life of Stutz, recounting his story and discussing some of the ideas he’s learned along the way. In doing so, the plan was to film the two of them sitting across from each other in a therapy setting. And this starts off well. Hill’s questions are intelligent and cut straight to the point. This allows Stutz to concisely tell his story, and it impressively illuminates how every little thing in life builds upon the last, informing who we are, what our life looks like, and how it’s always evolving. Stutz getting vulnerable immediately creates an air of honesty and an atmosphere of raw emotion.
You can simultaneously see this as a therapy session for yourself, and as a deeply introspective film for its two subjects. Because while Hill, who recently said he won’t be doing media appearances for his films anymore, is initially reticent to dive into his own stuff — the film was conceived as being about Stutz, after all — he eventually folds and starts sharing on his own. Through the course of the film, we learn that both of these men have lost a brother — albeit at very different ages — and it has impacted them profoundly. So in a way, through their unique relationship, they’ve made brothers out of each other, and by the end, it’s obvious that their relationship is the true heart of the film.
Through making this film, Hill seems to have found a certain depth of understanding himself, others, and the concepts that Stutz champions. But at the same time, the concepts (or tools, as Stutz calls them) are probably the least compelling part of the film. They’re interesting in and of themselves, but they’re all laid out somewhat hastily. Stutz own drawings are used to illustrate them, but those sections end up feeling more like a college lecture that you’re not taking notes on because you want to watch the movie. In a different setting, they could be much more interesting.
Even still, you can tell that Hill really buys into these tools. He starts some of the sessions by closing his eyes and going into a short, meditative state before their conversations. And it’s great that they’re so strongly advocating for therapy, especially on Netflix. But while Hill learns lessons about himself, his friend, and filmmaking, you still can’t help but feel like you’re being kept at arm’s length. There’s a scene that’s surprisingly somewhat reminiscent of The Rehearsal in how vulnerable yet guarded it comes across.
While Nathan Fielder-esque moments might feel somewhat confusing and misguided, as they discuss, it doesn’t really matter if the movie is good or not in the end (it is good). What matters is that they did it. It matters that they sat down and worked through issues that will never be fully resolved. Because as Stutz himself says, “There will never be anyone who has it all figured out… Happiness depends on how you accept that.”
Score: 8/10
Stutz is currently streaming on Netflix
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