Farrah Fawcett: This Is What Cancer Is
by Krishna Andavolu
MAY 21, 2009 TAGS:
BREAKING UPDATE: Farrah Fawcett Dies at 62.
The actress died on Thursday, June 25 in Santa Monica, Calif. More coverage shortly, including in Obit's weekly commentary on the world of obituaries, The Grim Reader.
--
Reflections on the TV special, "Farrah's Story," and the actress's very public battle with cancer.
Around 9 million viewers tuned into to Dateline NBC’s special two-hour program Sunday about Farrah Fawcett’s battle with cancer and saw an intimate portrait of the actress at a troubling time in her life. Fawcett, who was diagnosed with liver and anal cancer in 2006, chronicled her tenacious and lengthy battle against the disease with home movies and journal entries. She documented her search for alternative treatments in Germany and the U.S., her suffering from the invasiveness of surgery, the toxicity of treatment and the loss of her golden hair. In these moments, we see Fawcett’s joie de vivre, her energy, her drive. Absent, oddly, is any indication that she will, at some point, die. Her struggle is the dominant narrative of the film rather than a reckoning, an understanding that all things, including her life, must pass.
In one sense, she is trying redefine her illness. Credited as an executive producer of the program, Fawcett hopes to subvert the tabloid coverage that has invaded her life since her illness took hold. When she suffered a relapse in 2007, staffers at the UCLA Medical Center leaked the news to the National Enquirer even before Fawcett could tell her family. By opening her private struggle to the public, she deprives the tabloids of exclusive coverage.
Fawcett believes that her forms of cancer, and by association all forms, should be curable. Given the necessary funds and a bureaucratic openness to alternative treatments, cancer will surely be cured. That belief helps support her denial of death.
She travels to Germany to receive care under a doctor named Professor Vogel, who compares her cancer to a terrorist “filled with hate and powerful enough to destroy all that’s good and healthy.” Despite the vivid depictions of painful treatment (long needles and invasive lasers, nausea and, of course, hair loss), both Fawcett and her caregivers seem to think in metaphor. To Fawcett, for example, the tabloids are a type of cancer as well.
Defeat becomes anathema. Fawcett will, quoting from Dylan Thomas, “not go gently into that good night,” as she pens in her journal. Her brave journey seems like a stubborn, even unreasonable attempt to stave off the inevitable.
Wanting to live is not the issue. Rather, the airing of her illness obscures a deeper discussion of human mortality. You can fight against a disease, as Fawcett does, and you can live with an illness. This show misses the opportunity to portray or discuss the latter. You’d think a struggle would make better television, but in the case of “Farrah’s Story,” her determination feels cloying.
What makes the program even stranger is Fawcett’s belief that she has her particular types of cancer for a reason, to show the world that its ills are curable. Clearly, the actress has the resources to access an array of experimental treatments, fly around the world and receive the best medical care. But over time, her desires to “have her life back” coupled with her “I want it now” attitude seem symptomatic of Hollywood’s self-absorption. Fawcett is left looking lost, without a renewed grip on her own life or her achievements.
We wish Farrah Fawcett well. Her story is compelling and her openness commendable. We just wish that she had the courage not just to fight her disease, but to look directly into the issues of death itself.
A Tribute to Fawcett's golden years
The actress died on Thursday, June 25 in Santa Monica, Calif. More coverage shortly, including in Obit's weekly commentary on the world of obituaries, The Grim Reader.
--
Reflections on the TV special, "Farrah's Story," and the actress's very public battle with cancer.
Around 9 million viewers tuned into to Dateline NBC’s special two-hour program Sunday about Farrah Fawcett’s battle with cancer and saw an intimate portrait of the actress at a troubling time in her life. Fawcett, who was diagnosed with liver and anal cancer in 2006, chronicled her tenacious and lengthy battle against the disease with home movies and journal entries. She documented her search for alternative treatments in Germany and the U.S., her suffering from the invasiveness of surgery, the toxicity of treatment and the loss of her golden hair. In these moments, we see Fawcett’s joie de vivre, her energy, her drive. Absent, oddly, is any indication that she will, at some point, die. Her struggle is the dominant narrative of the film rather than a reckoning, an understanding that all things, including her life, must pass.
In one sense, she is trying redefine her illness. Credited as an executive producer of the program, Fawcett hopes to subvert the tabloid coverage that has invaded her life since her illness took hold. When she suffered a relapse in 2007, staffers at the UCLA Medical Center leaked the news to the National Enquirer even before Fawcett could tell her family. By opening her private struggle to the public, she deprives the tabloids of exclusive coverage.Fawcett believes that her forms of cancer, and by association all forms, should be curable. Given the necessary funds and a bureaucratic openness to alternative treatments, cancer will surely be cured. That belief helps support her denial of death.
She travels to Germany to receive care under a doctor named Professor Vogel, who compares her cancer to a terrorist “filled with hate and powerful enough to destroy all that’s good and healthy.” Despite the vivid depictions of painful treatment (long needles and invasive lasers, nausea and, of course, hair loss), both Fawcett and her caregivers seem to think in metaphor. To Fawcett, for example, the tabloids are a type of cancer as well.
Defeat becomes anathema. Fawcett will, quoting from Dylan Thomas, “not go gently into that good night,” as she pens in her journal. Her brave journey seems like a stubborn, even unreasonable attempt to stave off the inevitable.
Wanting to live is not the issue. Rather, the airing of her illness obscures a deeper discussion of human mortality. You can fight against a disease, as Fawcett does, and you can live with an illness. This show misses the opportunity to portray or discuss the latter. You’d think a struggle would make better television, but in the case of “Farrah’s Story,” her determination feels cloying.
What makes the program even stranger is Fawcett’s belief that she has her particular types of cancer for a reason, to show the world that its ills are curable. Clearly, the actress has the resources to access an array of experimental treatments, fly around the world and receive the best medical care. But over time, her desires to “have her life back” coupled with her “I want it now” attitude seem symptomatic of Hollywood’s self-absorption. Fawcett is left looking lost, without a renewed grip on her own life or her achievements.
We wish Farrah Fawcett well. Her story is compelling and her openness commendable. We just wish that she had the courage not just to fight her disease, but to look directly into the issues of death itself.
Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy
RELATED CONTENT
COMMENTS (2)
Latest News Delivered to Your Inbox - Sign up with our site and you will get the latest news about people and subjects that interest you.
Anonymous wrote on June 25, 2009 2:33pm
I am very sorry for the grieving family and friends of Farrah who loved her so much. However, I couldn't help thinking while watching "Farrah's Story" last month that she was spending so much time looking for cures and miracles that she lost valuable time to actually live her life. There are times when looking for a cure may be desirable and even possible - I would never want to take that kind of hope away from anyone. But there comes a time when it is desirable to concentrate on the healing aspect instead of the curative aspect of the situation. The time comes when one needs to face the fact that this condition is not going away no matter what one does. It is time to be with loved ones and say the things that need to be said. It is the time to complete certain goals that may have been tucked away for the future. It is time to embrace the cycle of life that we are all a part of and that is undeniable - and unavoidable. It is about quality of life - not quantity. It is about putting things in perspective and seeing how one's life has touched the lives of others and made a difference. It is about granting forgiveness to others and to one's self. It is about letting go... I never felt that Farrah was able to accomplish these things in her search for a miracle. Perhaps there is something I missed in the telling of her story. Perhaps she did get to say those special things to those she loved. But I am not entirely sure of this from how the story was presented. And for that, I am even more sad for her than for her actual death. Betty John [Report Comment]
Lian Sawires wrote on May 26, 2009 1:07pm
I applaud your article, and feel it is a deeply cultural wound we have. For palliative care practitioners, it is an even harsher reality: How do you care for a dying person who's goal is to deny and avoid death? Families and doctors collaborate in this attitude, where the fear seems to be that looking the existance of death will somehow empower death or diminish our humanity or aliveness. I concur with Griefwalker (orphanwisdom) who says death is the cradle of life. Death should be death-centered and without that, we will remain scared children in our lives, afraid of what is in the dark, and really having no idea at all what is there, individually or collectively. Liansawires [Report Comment]
