Search for Zest, The (1962)

Boredom is this man's problem. Boredom at home, boredom at play, boredom at work. More and more it bothers him, upsets him. Today, at finally acting at the suggestion of his family doctor, he's made an appointment to see a psychiatrist. And yet here on the threshold, he hesitates. Still battling himself, still holding back. This going to a psychiatrist, is it really the right thing to do? Is boredom worth all this fuss? Can a psychiatrist really help? For you, such thoughts were a source of deep and disturbing conflict. A new conflict to add to the half-dozen other inner struggles already racking There's the battle between his love for the outdoors and the endless hours he spends chained to his desk. He's torn between a basic shyness that needs solitude and a job that makes him work with people. Between his yen to do field work and his need for job security. At home, any fight with his wife Loretta brings on guilt feelings. Whichever way he turns, conflict conflict conflict. Those inner struggles, they shake you. It's reached the point where he's no longer certain how he does feel or even if he feels. But how to find out about your feelings? How do you rid yourself of the conflict that breeds tension and ultimately boredom? What happens when you personally face a psychiatrist with a problem like this one? What does he do? What does he say? Don't you feel like a fool? You weren't sure. But here today, at last, he takes the vital step. At last, he acknowledges the importance of his boredom admits that he needs Help in fighting it. Help in his search for zest and ardor, those ever vital elements that make our lives worth living. Well, that takes care of the statistics, Mr. Marriott. Now, uh what seems to be your trouble? You're the psychiatrist. You tell me. People get confused about psychiatrists, Mr. Marriott. No one can tell you how to run your life. I can help you scout out the roads, but you're the one who have to decide where it is you want to go. Now, let's try again. What is it that's bothering you, the way you see it? What's bothering you? It's almost easier to tell what isn't. Sure, boredom's the issue, but it reaches into so many areas. There's his relationship with his son, Kenny. More and more, they seem to live in separate worlds. With his wife, Loretta, it's gotten to the point of his not caring one way or the other. His friends and neighbors matter so little to him by now that he barely manages to stay polite. Carries over into his work, too. He's bored stiff with the old familiar routines, the problems he meets day after weary day. He can't stand the people he has to deal with. Hunts excuses to be rid of them. Even at night, boredom stays with him. Too often he can't sleep. He searches hour after hour for some release from the emptiness of the day. No one likes that kind of thing. How long have you felt this way? Too long. Months, years. I can't even remember when I really cared about anything. But back when you were a boy though. Oh then? Yes, things were different. So damn different. Might give us an angle we can use. What did you enjoy doing most? The things a man remembers when he thinks back to the happy times he knew when he was a kid. For Hugh, there were those crisp days in the uplands, hunting. The thoughtful hours alone out on the water. The joy of doing things with his hands, things his father taught him. How to saw board. How to overcome the stubbornness of machinery. How to hold a shotgun and lead a bird. Crafts, hunting, working with your dad. Maybe these are the clues we've been looking for, Hugh. No matter how bored a man is, he can break loose sometimes if he can zero in on the things that meant the most to him as a youngster. You might even pass some of them on to Kenny. To Kenny? Ever try working with him? I sometimes. Not much. Might not do any harm to think about it. You never know for sure what's going to help eventually. I have a free hour next Tuesday if you care to drop by, say 2:00. I guess so. Doctor, this whole business has me all upset. Can you prescribe something for me? A tranquilizer perhaps? Medicine helps sometimes, but let's wait a while. You may not need anything once you understand what's bothering you. All right. Home again and hope begins to grow in you. He wants to reach out, do something like with Ken the way Dr. Jeffers suggested. If only they could work together, build a doghouse maybe. Only things don't always shape up quite the way you figure. Tension, trouble, flaring tempers. What started out to be a step in therapy for Hugh ends up as another Marriott family bomb burst because trying to treat emotional ills by the numbers just doesn't work. Progress is a thing you have to fight for, the slow, hard, painful way. Yet Dr. Jeffers doesn't seem too upset when he hears about it all at Hugh's next session. Just try something simpler, that's all. Like a hike. Something that you both like to do where you can relax instead of fighting. But over and beyond such practical measures, Dr. Jeffers feels it's vital that Hugh get to the true roots of his trouble. Symptomatic relief isn't enough. There needs to be thorough investigation of the ground from which his problems sprang, his feelings, his background, his formative years, the relationships with people that have helped to shape him. It's a long process, a painful process. Hugh doesn't like it. A dozen times he's tempted to quit and yet there's enough progress that he goes on. Meanwhile, first chance he gets, he takes Ken hiking. And because Hugh's beginning to understand a little better about how to get along with people, it's at a time when Ken wants to go. No pressure, no forcing issues. Out here for this brief moment, Hugh relives again some of the happy hours of his own childhood. Full of surprises, full of the pleasure he always found in the open, away from pressures, away from conflicts. It's a thing he can share with Ken now. A thing that creates no tensions, makes no demands upon them. Just the oneness of father and son walking along the water's edge together. What do wet clothes matter compared to the fun they've had? It's a good feeling for both of them. But not for Loretta. What kind of a father would let his son fall in a lake? Doesn't he even know what the word responsibility means? The child might have drowned. And those wet clothes. If this is what comes of going to that Dr. Jeffers, well, it's certainly not her idea of the right way for Hugh to squander family money. Dr. Jeffers understands, though he does wonder about one thing. Why is it so important to you? Why is what important? Loretta's approval. Why do you feel you always have to do what she wants? Why? That's the kind of question that sets Hugh groping without an answer. What about other husbands? Do they play it the same way Hugh does? There's Betty Evans. Paul won't even let her hold a job. Her days drag endlessly. Cornelia Beard, she never knows where Claude is or when he'll be home. The way he cheats on her is a scandal. Maxine Finsterwald, her husband won't let her have children. Too much bother, too much expense. So, Maxine is left empty and envious, unfulfilled. And Paulette King, how she dreads those camping trips her husband dragged her off on. The outdoors? It's for the birds. Those fellows don't seem to take the same approach you do, do they? It's still no way to treat your wife. How should you treat her? Well, you know what? Don't ought to go around Not pushing around. That is, a woman deserves a little happiness. Even when she gets in her husband's way, interferes with what he wants personally? Marriage isn't built on selfishness. Oh, I agree, but there are other ways to look at it, aren't there? I guess so. But you don't buy them. What about your folks? How did they see it? How have they seen it? For the first time, it dawns on Hugh that his attitudes, well, they're just something he takes for granted. His mother saw to that, whether the issue was dirty nails or bad manners or sloppy clothes or not making enough money, especially not making enough money. Sometimes Hugh's father would stalk out. But whatever happened, there still wasn't enough money. Could all that family trouble have influenced Hugh, conditioned him to accept his mother's idea of how a husband ought to act? The very thought's ridiculous to him, but Dr. Jeffers isn't so sure. All right, so I'm all wrong. What about the girls you didn't marry? The girls I didn't marry? Well, let's think about them, that's all. Maybe we can figure out what made you back off. The girls Hugh didn't marry, like Sue for instance. Fun all the way, but sloppy as she was, what kind of a home would she keep? Barbara was the hottest date in town. Too hot to make the right wife for a respectable man. Judy, she looked like a million dollars. Spent money that way, too. Too expensive. Winifred had ideas. Ideas so far out, they scared a man. Sloppiness, passion, extravagance, nonconformity. Traits like that never did rate very high in your book, did they? Nor in anybody else's, either. Well, you mean nobody ever married those girls? Now, wait a minute. You mean they did marry? It couldn't be that your mother set the standards for you, could it? Where the other fellows figured that fun, and excitement, and sharp ideas, high voltage, were maybe worth a few adjustments. Loretta, it finally dawns on you that in a lot of ways she's like his mother. The standards she holds to, the things she believes in, they're the same. And it's not a very comfortable discovery. Besides all this business about Hugh's parents, it upsets him. Leaves him feeling worn and torn. And guilty. Again, Dr. Jeffers reacts. This time to challenge Hugh's memories of his childhood. Your folks had their share of fights, all right. There's a place in marriage for fighting. What I'm questioning is your interpretation of their squabbles. After all, they didn't divorce, did they? Divorce? No, matter of fact, when Hugh thinks back, there were even a good many moments of tenderness. Wildflowers his father would bring home to his mother. The way she'd make hot rolls for him morning after morning. The long summer evenings they spent in the porch swing, relaxed and happy. The cold winter mornings when they'd let Hugh sneak into bed with them. By the time Dr. Jeffers is through, Hugh realizes that his past recollections have been on the selective side. Everyone does it, Hugh. It's so much easier to blame your troubles on family, our teachers, the place we grew up. Instead of standing on our own two feet fighting out our problems. Where Loretta's concerned, Hugh now sees what Dr. Jeffers is trying to get at. Devotion does not demand that you make yourself into a carbon copy of your wife, no matter how much you love her. Even in marriage, Hugh, a man has a right to be himself. You've got to be you. You have your own needs, your own desires. Face up to them. It's more than a right, it's a duty. So, if Loretta won't go along with that kind of talk, well, maybe it's time she dropped by here for a visit. Time out for a bomb burst. When it's over, Dr. Jeffers manages to sneak in a few thought-provoking questions. Why is it so vital that Hugh's nails be clean? Is it really sinful for a man not to care about bridge? What's wrong with hunting and fishing? Who's hurt or even inconvenienced? Time out again for sputtering. Weeks and weeks of sputtering. When it dies down, there's another question, a deeper, less symptomatic, more important question. What kind of a man was your father, Mrs. Marriott? Loretta's father? It's hard for her to talk about him even now. A loud man, a harsh man, an aggressive man. He shaved when he felt like it, if he felt like it. Insulted visitors right and left. What he wanted was what counted. And if that meant humiliating or outraging his wife, that was her hard luck. He was a good provider, though, and he certainly bragged enough about it. Loretta's father taught her how husbands behave if they're given half a chance. Often she hated him, swore she'd never let any man abuse her the way her father had her mother. Again, it's as it was with Hugh. Loretta saw her parents through the haze of her own distorted feelings. She forgot the nice things they did for each other, the happiness they knew together, remembered only the fragments that reinforced her own ideas, ideas too often born of a child's misunderstanding, ungrounded in reality. Those attitudes, those ideas, she carried them over into marriage, clings to them still. A case in point? Well, she's always been impressed by Hugh's thoughtfulness, his consideration. And yet, the way he knuckles under disturbs her somehow. She misses her father's arrogant masculinity, his swagger, his decisiveness, even his violence. Unconsciously, she holds Hugh in contempt for giving in to her, grows depressed and resentful at what she thinks of as his weakness. It's a warped viewpoint, and as Loretta begins to understand herself and Hugh a little better, she goes along with him more, accepts him as he is instead of trying to make him over. When on impulse he decides to take Kenny fishing, she puts a curb on her tongue. Bridge tonight? Hugh plays if he feels like it. Goes to his workshop if he doesn't. It dawns on Loretta that she and Hugh fight more often, and somehow that's actually a relief, better by far than the dull gray dreariness of Hugh's boredom. As time goes by, it's obvious that he feels more alive, freer, more aggressive, more dominant. Until finally, one night Not tonight, Hugh. I have an awful headache. I mean it, Hugh. Relax, honey. Everything's going to be all right. Hey, what's this? You know, lover boy, I'm beginning to wonder if you're not a lot more man than I thought. Things begin to work out better between Hugh and Kenny, too. There are fishing trips, home workshop projects, nights on the town together. Kenny's apathy fades. His grades come up. Finally, he even talks Hugh into having another try at finishing the dog house. For Hugh, it's a great moment. He sees now how important it is for him to work with Kenny instead of bossing. To accept boy level work instead of criticizing. All the time he feels better himself, more alive, more alert, more awake to the zest of living. Matter of fact, it's only on the job that he's still aware of tension. There, well, it's just not good. He sees now that office duty isn't for him. His place is out in the field, on the construction end. And yet, he can't afford to break away from Consolidated. Come right down to it, he really doesn't want to. Dr. Jeffers tries to help. Suggests that Hugh makes an effort to rouse more interest in his work by exploring the company thoroughly. Check into each department and its function. Get better acquainted with the men he works with as individuals. Learn their problems, interests. Let them know his. Good ideas, all of them. They help. But they're still not enough. With every plan that crosses Hugh's desk, the old urge to get out into the field comes back. Finally, he confesses the truth to Dr. Jeffers. More and more, he's tightening up again, resenting his job, retreating from reality, back into his old habits of apathy and boredom. I understand. Do the folks down there know how you feel about it? About field work? Are you kidding? If you want to hold a job, you don't go around griping to the boss about it. Oh, you really think they'd call it griping? Well, what they What do you mean "what they"? I think you'd just be a chance to use your full potential. A man feels the way you do about field work, chances are he's got a talent for it. Why hide it? Let your boss know that you've got an ability he's not using. Between the two of you, you might be able to figure out an angle. It's a new thought for Hugh. He hesitates, hedges, broods about it. Then one day, Consolidated's awarded the contract to build a big new dam. Hugh's boss admits the project has him worried. I just don't know, Hugh. It's a good deal all around. But from the field end, those stresses, they're going to be some darn sticky problems. And I just may be able to help you with that. Hugh? On a field assignment? I'm a good man on stresses, Ed. Real good. Why, remember I was in the field the day you hired me. But I thought What about Loretta? I'll be doing the work here, not Loretta. I'd like to take a shot at it, Ed. I really would. Hugh is still grinning like a Cheshire cat when he talks to Dr. Jeffers 2 days later. So, that's the way it is, doctor. I'll be out of town for a few months. How's Loretta taking it? I gave her a choice, either stay here or come along in a house trailer. She's coming. What about Kenny? He's on cloud nine. Thinking about the traveling and all that stuff. So, now might be a pretty good time to take you off therapy for a while. Could be. Is there a cure for boredom, then? Hugh is still isn't sure. Too many things depend on what you mean when you say cure. But, he does know that slowly, painfully, you can learn to live a richer, fuller life if only you'll be yourself, fight through and resolve your inner conflict, face the person that you really are. Only thus can you bring to a successful end your search for zest and ardor, free yourself of apathy, and solve forever your problems of boredom at work. Oh.