Travails of the Lady's Doctor

Richard Gere brings out the best in an OB-gyne in Dr. T & the Women

By Mike Gomez

Many women swear they would rather not subject themselves to internal examination by male obstetrician-gynecologists. But many would surely reconsider if the doctor looked anything like Richard Gere.

    Gere plays Dallas-based ob-gynecologist Sullivan Travis, better known to his adoring patients as "Dr. T," in the title role of Robert Altman's Dr. T & the Women.

    While not exactly turning in his best performance, Gere is convincing in his role as the most popular ob-gyne in Dallas, Texas who merits the distinction, not solely for his physical charms, but for his worshipping regard for all women. This is not to say that the film makes a positive statement about women. It doesn't. It's a bonafide bitch-buster that makes its not-too-subtle statement through the travails of the unfortunate Dr. T.

Nice Guys Finish Last

    Dr. T is depicted as a decent, competent, and sincere professional who genuinely cares about every one of his patients. It is no wonder that his clinic is a chaos of wealthy and influential women jockeying for their turn to rest their feet on the stirrups of Dr. T's examination table.

    Most of these women seem to just need attention and affirmation. They frequent the clinic to chat with each other like customers hanging out at a beauty parlor.

    This daily madhouse is managed somehow by the doctor's head nurse Carolyne (Shelley Long), who also has the hots for her boss.

    The irony of Dr. T's situation is that his good nature and his sensitivity toward women should be richly rewarded; but he is, instead, plagued and tortured by the women in his immediate circle which include his wife, his children, his sister-in-law, his staff, his patients-and eventually even his lover.

    Dr. T's wife, Kate (Farrah Fawcet) succumbs to a fictitious disease called "Hestia Complex," which is somewhat like a middle-aged Alzheimer's disease that strikes women who experience an excess of caring and affection from their flawless husbands. The disease was named by screenplay writer Anne Rapp after the legendary Greek figure Hestia, who is known as the goddess of the home and hearth-the diety of caring, nurturing, and family values if you will. While out shopping with her daughters Dee-Dee (Kate Hudson) and Connie (Tara Reid) and her sister Peggy (Laura Dern), Kate wanders off childishly, and strips herself naked to dance around a fountain in the middle of a mall.

    This lands her in a psychiatric care unit. She regresses into a childlike state, and thinks Dr. T is her brother. Having, for all intents and purposes, lost his wife, Dr. T seeks solace and company with his hunting and golf buddies, and eventually with his club's new golf pro, Bree (Helen Hunt) who comes across as the only woman in Dr. T's frenetic life who does not demand anything, and whose head seems screwed on her body correctly.

    He finds consolation with Bree, particularly when besieged by the problem of his soon-to-be-married daughter being denounced by her jealous sister as a lesbian. Dr. T's airheaded alcoholic sister-in-law Peggy has also moved into his house along with her three brat daughters, since Kate remains confined in the psychiatric care facility.

Improbable, But Engaging

    The climactic crescendo of movie action takes place at the outdoor wedding of Dr. T's daughter Dee-Dee. At this moment, all the women in his life manifest their flakiness-starting with the bride who chooses not to go through with the wedding and run off instead with the maid of honor (Liv Tyler) who is actually her lesbian lover. As all this happens, the jealous purportedly self-sacrificing overshadowed daughter is in need of ministering to, but Dr. T's wife acts up again while his sister-in-law seeks refuge in alcohol.

    The party is ruined by a rainstorm that escalates into a major hurricane and causes all to flee in various directions. Dr. T seeks refuge and love with Bree who, he realizes, is the only one he really loves and can stand living with. After driving out to her place with hopes of impulsively sweeping her off her feet, he realizes that Bree, too, has failed him as she is not inclined to ride off into the sunset with the great Dr. T.

    Dejected and confused, Dr. T drives off into the worsening storm until he finds himself in the path of a deadly tornado. In a playful tongue-in-cheek Discovery Channel type of scenario, Dr. T's car is whisked up into the heavens into what seems to be his doom.

    But he regains consciousness in the vicinity of a small desert settlement where some pueblo Indians are in immediate need of (wouldja believe it?) an obstetrician. The film ends with the triumph of Dr. T doing what he was trained to do with the women he was trained to serve. He delivers the baby amid great jubilation among the village folk and himself, having found his true calling.

    We are taught in literary criticism classes that modern writers no longer solve the conflict in their plots with the classical deus ex machina cure. But the implausible conclusion of Dr. T's mental anguish-plucked off the ground by the cosmic forces of nature and transported to exactly the place of his rightful calling-is almost forgivable in light of the somewhat surreal action that takes place throughout the movie. Besides, the true-to-life childbirth scene at the end is quite impressive.

Venusian Attack

    The title Dr. T & the Women would, on first encounter, suggest a film about a doctor who has his way with many women. Instead, the film is about many women who have their way with the poor doctor.

    The movie is not, by any measure, meant to raise women to pedestals the way Dr. T did. Rather, it makes a comic statement of what is bound to happen to anyone who regards women as Dr. T did, and allows them to run roughshod over them.

    With the exception of Bree, the women in Dr. T's world are all portrayed in a negative light. They are wealthy and frivolous, flaunt their furs and fortunes, and seem overly concerned with their appearance and other superficial issues. No one is depicted with even a shred of depth or intelligence.

    While feminists and other disgruntled women typically rattle off a litany of what's wrong with men and with the way they treat women, Dr. T is characterized as a man "not guilty" of every one of these counts. He actually deifies women, calls them saints who are each unique in their own wonderful ways, and basically devotes his very existence to serving them.

    The movie is crawling with women in every plausible situation, few of which are flattering. In a scene when Dr. T is called down to the police station after his wife was picked up, a policewoman is seen attempting to type something. She searches around for a good three seconds for every succeeding letter key before gingerly striking it with a mixture of excitement and fear.

Professional Nevertheless

    Despite its lack of focus and almost dreary pace, Dr. T & the Women is a good piece of work from the film-making point of view. The movie features some of the well-known Robert Altman trademarks-complicated characters and intricate storylines with intersecting subplots and intriguing loose ends. It also features some of those difficult-to-rehearse long, unbroken camera shots.

    At the very least, the movie offers a superior visual spectacle with literally scores of beautiful women playing supporting roles. Aside from the ob-gyne clinic where practically all the doctor's clients are attractive women, there are female-heavy scenes like the cheerleading practice of Dee Dee, the mall shots, Dee Dee's shower party, and the wedding itself.

    In all, it is not the sort of blockbuster one would change plans to make the time for. It is, however, engaging enough for the doctor, particularly the ob-gyne, to watch at one's leisure.