When it comes to the subject of life-threatening diseases, we see that there are two major diversions in the world of exploring them through literature – either, they’re composed as bleak, harrowing stories of the trials and tribulations of those living with such diseases, or they’re irreverent comedies that try to bring out some humour in an attempt to lighten the mood and show that, despite the grave nature of their ailment, that these people can still laugh about it. When deciding to turn his own struggles with cancer into a film, screenwriter Will Reiser certainly seemed more interested in the latter option, with his story eventually turning into 50/50, which was helmed by his friend Jonathan Levine, a director who has proven himself capable of making comedies about serious issues on a few occasions. Semi-autobiographical in the sense that, much like Reiser, the film focuses on a young man coming to terms with the fact that not only does he have a very rare kind of cancer (particularly one that isn’t caused by outside factors, but rather a genetic mutation that makes him one of the very few people with this particular kind of tumour), but that his chances of survival are, as the title suggests, roughly 50/50, which is a terrifying concept for any individual, especially one who was only recently starting to find his stride in life, with the fears of departing before reaching his full potential driving him to the point of extraordinary despair. Told with fervent dedication and a lot of good-natured humour that suggests some deeper meaning just below the surface of what seems like a charming independent film, 50/50 is a remarkable film, the rare instance where comedy is used not only to evoke laughter, but also look deeper into the lives of the people that it represents.

In talking about a film like 50/50, we have to evoke that hackneyed saying that “dying is easy, comedy is hard” – nearly every story is about someone finding the humour in a situation where their life is being changed by an awful disease or physical condition ultimately leads us back to this quote of indeterminable origin (every actor and comedian from the Shakespearean era to the modern day has at some point been cited as the person who coined the phrase) – precisely because it is extremely effective, and explains not only the great challenge that stands before those who choose to commit their lives to making people laugh, but also the fact that death is not something to be feared, and that while we tend to feel a sense of discomfort when we realize that we are mortal, it is an inevitability that is going to arrive at our doorstep at some point, so for the select few that are able to do so, finding comedy in the situation is certainly an admirable task. 50/50 is a film constructed out of the fundamental human need to simply laugh – there’s a reason all of us were told “laughter is the best medicine” (yet another extremely appropriate cliche to use here) at some point in our lives. In the midst of extreme emotional trauma and existential despair, Reiser manages to find the time and space to tell a few jokes. While we should avoid the act of becoming armchair psychologists, it seems like 50/50 was created as a form of therapy for Reiser, who works through his own experiences and finds the strength to look back and not only be extraordinarily open about his struggles, but also find the humour in it. We can feel the catharsis, and we gain valuable insights into his experiences, which are represented in moments of genuine humour and authentic sadness, the balance of which was vital to the entire film.

Levine has had a knack for casting his films exceptionally well, always choosing the right actors for the roles, which often includes some major stars that seem to find themselves at ease under the young director’s guidance. 50/50 was made when Joseph Gordon-Levitt was at his peak as one of the most interesting members of Hollywood’s new guard of young, promising actors (in recent years he has retreated into doing more niche work, but is still exceptionally gifted). Many may look at some of his more dramatic work like Brick or Mysterious Skin as containing his best performance, while others are more inclined towards comedic films like (500) Days of Summer that showcased his classic movie star charisma and ability to sing, dance and act. However, the most logical argument is that the film that has elements of both would likely be his best, which is certainly the case for 50/50, which has Gordon-Levitt at his most likeable, but in a way that doesn’t force him away from doing genuinely interesting work. Acting across from him is a very gifted cast, with Seth Rogen (who is a friend of Reiser, and whose character is based on himself) being at his most charismatic, and proving that he too can be equally as hilarious as he is dramatic, with the friendship between the two characters being the emotional core of the film. Anjelica Huston is also absolutely wonderful in her scene-stealing role as the protagonist’s mother, someone who has the purest intentions, but the most awkward delivery – and Huston reminds us of why she is one of our greatest living actors, with her ability to command the screen in very little time being one of her great gifts. 50/50 has a remarkable cast, and each one of them turns in fantastic work that feels genuine and meaningful, almost to the point of being all too human.

What is most notable about 50/50 is what a staggering work of incredible compassion it is. It was not written to be exploitative or to simply create a situation where audiences were forced to feel some kind of sensation – this normally occurs when a film about a serious matter is written or directed by someone who may not have experience or much knowledge about it, and while many of them do mean well and have good intentions, it can sometimes result in work that may strive to be important, but misses the mark on the most vital information that can really only be brought to the table by those who have first-hand knowledge. Absolutely nothing about 50/50 feels manufactured, and Levine smartly hands the reigns over to Reiser, who becomes the prominent authorial voice in the development of the story, with the director simply being there to filter his beautiful script into a form that honours his experiences without distracting from the details underlying his wonderful words. The comedy at the heart of 50/50 is undeniably very funny, but the jokes are a lot more subtle, with the humour being measured, so as not to distract from the fact that this is a very melancholy film. This is a very joyful film, since we’re being taken on a journey into the experiences of a man who fought for his life and emerged victorious, and has gone on to transform his battle with cancer into a film that brings hope to a lot of people. However, the severity of the disease is not neglected, and as much as the film is focused on someone who overcame his disease, it also pays tribute to the many who are not quite so fortunate, which brings a much-needed sense of reality to a film that uses humour appropriately, making sure that we know that there are just as many people who fall victim to this disease as there are those that recover, a sobering but vital fact that is never ignored throughout the film.

The equal balance of comedy and drama at the heart of 50/50 may take some viewers by surprise, especially since we’re presented with a variety of scenes that contain both in tandem. It’s the kind of tearjerker that feels authentic, and where the emotions we come across are plucked from a recognizable version of reality, not merely being the work of someone who wanted to convey an important message, but faltered in all the areas in which it mattered the most. Levine’s directorial prowess is absolutely impeccable, and he carries this film, which really belongs more to Reiser than anyone else (serving as his opportunity to explore his own experiences), to a place where we can both laugh and cry, not necessarily at these characters, but alongside them. There’s a genuine joyfulness that simmers beneath this film, which is undercut by the feeling of pain that comes across in the quieter moments – but yet, rather than invalidating the happier moments, or trivializing the more dramatic situations the characters find themselves in, the two work together in communion, creating a beautiful and poignant comedy that does what many films aim to do when they supposedly try to find comedy in pain, and vice versa. It’s a remarkable and beautifully-constructed film with a lot of heart and an abundance of detail, which makes for a truly powerful work of comedy that always maintains a sense of humour, but without forgetting the importance of the message being conveyed, which is where it truly flourishes and becomes a much better and more complex film than many may have expected.