The Whale: The Self-Injuring Behaviors We Choose

This semester in my Masters of Psychology program at Columbia, I dove into Adult Psychopathology (as defined in the DSM). While the DSM remains only a categorization of the spectrum of challenges that humans suffer, the course shed light on the ways that disorders can be driven by much deeper pain and suffering in a person’s life. We analyzed characters from fictional works as a way to understand how pathologies play out in the lives of individuals. My focus was on Charlie, the main character from the 2022 movie, The Whale.

It is clear that Charlie would rather inflict pain on himself than face the deeper emotional hurt inside.

Psychoanalytic Perspective

Charlie’s struggles, manifested by severe depression and binge-eating behaviors, are linked to deeper dynamics that holds him back from getting the help he needs: a pervasive masochistic dynamic. In The Psychiatric Interview in Clinical Practice, MacKinnon describes these kinds of patients as those “who present with a history of unnecessary suffering, self-defeating behaviors, and recurrent self-induced disappointments in life” (MacKinnon et al., pg. 201).

This dynamic reveals itself in Charlie’s self-sabotaging interactions with other people and with the self-sacrificing behavior preventing him from getting healthy. Charlie is obsessed with the essay written by his daughter about Moby Dick, and it is clear that he thinks of himself as both the author of his sad story, Ahab, “his entire life set around trying to kill a certain whale;” and also the whale, who “doesn’t have any emotions and [is] just a poor big animal.” He is convinced that “his life will be better if he can kill this whale, but in reality it won’t help him at all” (Aronofsky, D, 2022, 1:50:01). At every key life decision, the masochistic dynamic plays out because “all other options seem even more painful” (MacKinnon et al., pg. 203).  

The masochistic dynamics play out as he orchestrates situations to distance, isolate and receive pain from the people around him. Even in his positive experience of life with Alan, Charlie says that he “thought that if I just loved him, that he wouldn’t need anyone else;” setting himself up to take the blame for Alan’s suicide (Aronofsky, D, 2022, 1:45:55). He allows a missionary from New Life, the church in which Alan suffered, to enter his home leading to a climax where he pressures the missionary into expressing disgust with Charlie. In addition, Charlie’s only relationship, with Alan’s sister Liz, plays the role of the scolding parent or judgemental doctor. Charlie maintains a self-deprecating attitude, leading him to continuously apologize to Liz for his very existence. Later when Charlie engages his daughter, he says, “You don’t have to be angry at the whole world, you can just be angry at me” (Aronofsky, D, 2022, 1:00:30). In every relationship, Charlie takes the role of the receiver of aggression and pain in order to retain some kind of connection with the other party.

Instead of having a real relationship, Charlie uses the fantasy of financially supporting his daughter to both maintain emotional gratification as well as keep himself distanced from an authentic connection. During an encounter with Charlie’s ex-wife, his daughter Ellie and Liz, it is revealed that Charlie has saved over one hundred thousand dollars; but that he saved the money for Ellie instead of for his health. Liz points out this paradox, “Charlie, we could have gotten anything you needed. Special beds, physical therapists, fucking health insurance…I thought you had [only] $700 dollars in your bank account” (Aronofsky, D, 2022, 1:00:30). He wants to be seen as a good father, one who “places responsibility before pleasure, and puts the needs of others before his own;” but this ultimately leads to a breakdown of his relationships (MacKinnon et al., pg. 214, 212).

Like the money that remains hidden away and does nothing to fulfill his physical or relational needs, Charlie ritualistically feeds the bird outside of his window as a way for him to do something “right.” Holding onto the symbolic written words of his daughter leads him to throw himself into his identity as a writing professor. All of these defenses help him avoid situations in which he “will be told [he is] not loved in return, which is [his] secret conviction” (MacKinnon et al., pg. 212).

These masochistic patterns are a self perpetuating cycle that worsens his depression and leads him to seek the only momentary release to feel nourished or gratified in binge eating.

Ultimately these painful experiences “have a conscious subjective experience of displeasure” for Charlie that allows him to obtain gratification “at an unconscious level” (MacKinnon et al., pg. 203). He holds onto this essay written by his daughter and the fantasy that “she’s going to have a decent life, where she cares about people and people care about her” (Aronofsky, D, 2022, 1:28:50).

Charlie enacts self-destructive patterns in his life with the hope that, “I have done one thing right with my life.”

(Aronofsky, D, 2022, 1:28:53)

It is clear that towards the end of his life Charlie starts to come to terms with these dynamics, saying, “I hate to think that there is an afterlife, and that Alan can see what I have done to myself” (Aronofsky, D, 2022, 1:38:24). He writes to his students, “Fuck these rediculous essays. FUCK the readings. JUST WRITE ME SOMETHING FUCKING HONEST” (Aronofsky, D, 2022, 1:32:41). This moment allows him to show himself fully and express his bottled up aggression; he can no longer maintain these masochistic and self-destructive dynamics; and the next day he is able to have a moment of final connection with his daughter, Ellie.   

The final moments of this film provide a glimmer of hope, that Charlie might find real authenticity and face his internal pain and fear.

This character amplifies the internal challenges that many of us suffer: the self-injuring behaviors we choose because they are less painful than our internal emotional void.

Hopefully, we begin to seek way to provide (physically, financially and emotionally) for ourselves first rather than holding onto the emotional substitutions we’ve built up to avoid the pain.

References

Dawson, J., Handel, A., Aronofsky, D. (Producers) & Aronofsky, D. (Director). (2022) The Whale [Motion picture]. United States: Protozoa Pictures.

MacKinnon, Roger A, et al. The Psychiatric Interview in Clinical Practice. Arlington, VA, American Psychiatric Association Publishing, 2016.

Maddux, J.E., Winstead, B., Maddux, J.E., & Winstead, B.A. (Eds.). (2019). Psychopathology:  Foundations for a contemporary understanding (5th ed.). Routledge.

If you are curious about diving deeper into the symbolic story and analysis of this movie, This Jungian Life has published a Podscast Episode on The Whale.