It’s frightening to picture what might be shown at your “trial” in Albert Brooks’ version of the afterlife. In his 1991 film Defending Your Life, the recently departed enter “Judgment City”, a bureaucratic replica of Earth where each person’s life is evaluated on whether or not they were controlled by fear. Those who prove to be courageous enough are allowed to move on to a better place. But for Daniel Miller (Brooks) it’s a little more complicated than that. Daniel’s life was one full of anxiety, bad financial decisions, and avoiding confrontation. As all of these failures are pulled up in flashback for a heavenly court to rule on, Daniel’s chances are not looking good. That is, until he meets Julia (Meryl Streep).
Defending Your Life is, in my opinion, Brooks’ most optimistic film. Feel-good romance is not typically associated with the filmmaker, but upon every rewatch of this movie, I’m convinced it’s the perfect example of one. Genuine vulnerability is hard to find, in real life and in fiction. Rarely do we see someone writing and playing a protagonist who thinks so lowly of himself, or who worries this much about how others perceive him. And rarely is that kind of character awarded growth and love. For all comedic purposes, Daniel is a bit of a loser. But while Brooks has given us plenty of fictional losers and neurotics in his time as a filmmaker, Daniel is different. Defending Your Life is different. There is hope for Daniel, and there’s hope for all of us, too. By the end of the film, when Daniel has found the courage to go after what he wants without fear, Brooks has found a way to communicate to the audience: “It’s not too late. You don’t have to live like this forever.”
Brooks has been known for his signature dry wit for decades. From creating short films for Saturday Night Live in the ‘70s, to critically-acclaimed performances in films like Broadcast News, to writing and directing several of his own features, he has always brought a certain cynical nature to his characters. They see the world for what it is: ridiculous. His protagonists have a heightened sense of self-awareness, viewing themselves as simultaneously the most intelligent in the room and the most pathetic. And those around him very often lack that self-awareness: his mother in Mother tries to serve lamb chops after being told he’s a vegetarian, insisting, “Well it’s not a cow.” His wife in Lost in America gambles away all of their savings in one night. Even Hollywood giant Martin Scorsese appears in The Muse as an over-the-top version of himself, set on making a commercialized sequel to Raging Bull. Brooks’ films are satirical and smart, and usually carry an undercurrent of cynicism towards Brooks himself and those around him.
But Defending Your Life is where this changes. Sure, Daniel is sarcastic and a little contemptuous. He starts the movie explaining to a friend why he wants to spend his birthday alone, “You were born alone, you should celebrate it. Celebrate aloneness.” It’s this dry humor that gets us to laugh with him and feel sorry for him when his life is cut short. And it’s also what gets Julia to develop an interest in him when they first meet. During a painfully bad set at Judgment City’s comedy club, the resident comic asks Daniel in the audience, “How’d you die?” Daniel calls back, “On stage, like you,” and Julia laughs, drawn to him out of curiosity. But this version of Daniel, only capable of shouting out criticisms and never taking any risks himself, is not what’s going to get us to a happy ending. His cynicism is quickly revealed to be a front that guards him from a fear of rejection, humiliation, and disappointment. He wants so much more in life, and he has held himself back from it for his entire life. So when the thing he wants the most (Julia) threatens to disappear, he finally understands what he has to do.
Streep has become more recently known for playing larger-than-life characters — intimidating figures, villains, characters experiencing high tragedy and drama. But here she is at her most grounded. Julia, while magnetic and charming, is also just a woman who snort-laughs while eating a hot dog. Brooks was apparently inspired to cast Streep after meeting her at a party, and the conversations between them here indeed feel like we’re intruding on an exciting connection between strangers. They have an instant spark despite being completely different people. Julia is a woman who didn’t allow fear to control her life on Earth, and doesn’t care what others think of her. During dinner at an Italian restaurant, Daniel is mortified to discover that his prosecutor is watching them as Julia slurps up a noodle. He repeatedly begs her to stop as she giggles, unbothered. In the climax of the film, it’s this self-confidence that grants Julia the chance to move on to heaven, and also keeps Daniel from being allowed to join her.
The system of Judgment City may be a backwards one. Daniel is assigned a questionably competent lawyer named Bob Diamond (Rip Torn), who ends each day in court with, “Great day. Very good day,” despite it going terribly. His prosecutor is tough, and the court seems to favor her. But when Daniel is told he has to go back to Earth and start over, the audience knows this is the correct ruling. Brooks may have created a bureaucratic portrayal of the afterlife, but not necessarily to criticize the system. There are problems created by society, and the justice system, and capitalism — and then there are problems you create for yourself.
All you have to do is look at the setting of Judgment City to see that while this film may have plenty of witty observations about American society, they are not the focus of the movie. Yes, Judgment City is a strangely corporate version of limbo. Tall modern office buildings house lawyers (they prefer “Defenders”) who take you out to lunch and put you up in decent hotels while you await the results of your trial. “If we can do anything to make it more like Earth,” an assistant tells Daniel, “we have suggestion boxes.” It’s a hilarious notion that our ideal afterlife might just be a decent four-star hotel, mediocre comedy clubs, and a diner where the omelets won’t make you gain weight. Maybe it’s a little depressing, too, but Brooks knows this is what America values and it’s not going away.
There are a slew of films from the ‘80s and ‘90s that set out to combat the oppressive 9-5, but Defending Your Life isn’t one of them. It isn’t here to tell you that your job is killing you, or that all of your problems are going to be fixed if you just break free. In fact, Brooks covered that idea in Lost in America, where his character David and his wife Linda collect all of their savings to buy a Winnebago and start a new life on the open road. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t turn out quite how they planned. After losing all their money at a casino and failing to succeed at minimum wage jobs, they end up right back where they started, with David begging for his job back. Lost in America is a clever satire that leaves you laughing and shaking your head about our depressing reality. But Defending Your Life is here to tell you that there’s hope. That maybe it’s not about your job, or your dreams, or your failures, or money — it’s about how you make the most of your time here before it’s all gone.
Halfway through the film, you might start to think about that person you never confessed your feelings for. You wonder if you should’ve refused that overwhelming task they piled on you at work. You remember that solo trip you wanted to take but never did because it would require eating alone in public. It’s easy to admonish yourself for these regrets. But by the end of the film, Michael Gore’s triumphant score swells behind fantastic performances and a heartfelt message to give you a rare burst of genuine optimism. And when Daniel takes off running after Julia, finally determined to get the love and life he deserves, you might just feel like joining him.
