Terminally Unemployed

Today, I went to see 50/50, the much acclaimed cancer comedy starring Seth Rogen and Joseph Gordon Leavitt. Other than being really good and really funny, it connected with me in a way I hadn't expected.

First off, short of a full-on movie review, let me just say that this was one extremely well-made movie. Like my friend and fellow cinephile Al said, nobody plays Seth Rogen like Seth Rogen. He's the same guy in every movie, and that's totally fine because he's hilarious and earnest and keeps you completely on his side the entire movie. The screenplay was written by Will Reiser, one of Rogen's best friends, as a semi-autobiographical account of his battle with cancer. Joseph Gordon Leavitt plays Adam, a stand-in for Reiser himself, and he plays it beautifully. The film's very personal, and very real. It's equal parts hilarious and poignant, and feels more like Garden State than 40-Year-Old-Virgin. The laughs are contextual and never played as anything but genuine. The tears may come, too, 'cause they sure did for me. I wasn't blubbering or anything, but there are some impactful moments in the third act that you don't need to have cancer to have affect you. If you've ever felt scared, alone, confused, or helpless, the main character's struggle to survive will resonate with you.

As I watched, I tried to figure out why it struck such a chord. To be sure, I've lost family and friends to cancer, and watched others struggle with the disease, but I've never experienced it as personally as the people in the story. All of a sudden a stark thought flashed through my head: I don't have health insurance, what would I do if this happened to me? The thought of piles of medical bills, or possibly lack of good treatment options, tightened my stomach. There are a lot of moments like that when you're unemployed. Some mundane detail of everyday life you used to take for granted sets your mind racing and your gut wrenching with anxiety.

That stray thought then dovetailed to an observation: being unemployed is a bit like having a terminal illness. Let's be clear. I'm not directly comparing the two, and I by no means wish to trivialize others' struggle with cancer and other diseases. I'm just noting a similarity to the experience.

You're in a kind of limbo, not knowing when or if you're going to pull through it. There's not much you can do other than go through the step by step and day to day. For illnesses, you go to your treatments, you go to support groups, you go to checkups, and you take your meds, all with the hope of getting better. When you're unemployed, you update your resume, apply to jobs, go to interviews (if you're lucky enough to get one), and go to networking events and job fairs all with the hope that you'll actually get a job.

When you're sick, the people around you sometimes don't know how to act, or maybe the fact that you're sick becomes the foremost thing on their mind and all they want to talk about. It's similar if you're unemployed. Family will constantly ask how the job hunt is going, making suggestions and telling you things they've heard about other people in your situation.

Both situations encounter the same empty, unknowing assurances and well-wishes. "You'll pull through." "Just stay positive, and stay focused." "It can only get better." How could "they" know anything? They have their health (or a job). They don't know that you're going to get better (or get a job). You feel scared. You feel alone. At times, you feel like there's no hope.

The title denotes the chances Adam has for survival. A 50% chance, as pointed out by Rogen's character, is still a really good chance. In today's economy, the same odds can't be laid on one's ability to land a job. I'm well educated, and well-spoken (or so I've been told). In almost three years, I've applied or otherwise inquired to a great number of jobs, and have yet to land steady, full-time employment.

Do I really have a better chance at beating cancer than landing a job? Seriously?

How depressing is that?

Oh well, at least I still get to go to matinee movies. One of the very few perks of being unemployed.

Go see 50/50, it was great. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll draw strange analogies to your life.