As Good as It Gets: A Critical Look at James L. Brooks’s Neurotic Gem

James L. Brooks’s 1997 film, As Good As It Gets, stands as a significant, if complex, entry in his filmography. Starring Jack Nicholson, Helen Hunt, and Greg Kinnear, the movie garnered critical acclaim and audience affection, yet warrants a closer look beyond its surface charm. Brooks, primarily known for his television background (The Simpsons, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Taxi), brought a distinct sensibility to his feature films, often blending sitcom structures with deeper explorations of human connection and neurosis. While initially lauded, analyzing As Good As It Gets reveals a fascinating tension between its genre roots, its genuine emotional depth, and the filmmaker’s determined, perhaps quixotic, optimism about personal change.

The film navigates the lives of three disparate New Yorkers: Melvin Udall (Nicholson), a misanthropic, obsessive-compulsive novelist; Carol Connelly (Hunt), a pragmatic single mother and waitress struggling with her son’s chronic asthma; and Simon Bishop (Kinnear), Melvin’s gay artist neighbor facing personal and professional crises. Brooks excels at depicting the pathos and comedy inherent in superneurotics attempting to navigate the world and connect, however awkwardly, with others – a theme also central to his earlier works like Broadcast News and I’ll Do Anything.

Jack Nicholson and Helen Hunt in a scene from the film As Good as It Gets.

The Brooksian Touch: Neurosis and Connection

Brooks’s signature often involves placing hyper-neurotic characters in situations that force interaction. In Broadcast News, it was the intense, sibling-like bond between characters played by Holly Hunter and Albert Brooks, or their complex relationships with William Hurt’s character. I’ll Do Anything explored similar dynamics with Nick Nolte and Albert Brooks. As Good as It Gets refines this focus, centering on one extreme case – Melvin – whose obsessive-compulsive disorder makes the characters in previous films seem relatively well-adjusted. Carol and Simon, while more grounded, each possess a defining neurotic trait: Carol’s intense devotion to her son Spence (Jesse James) and Simon’s attachment to his dog, Verdell (played primarily by Jill), who becomes a crucial fourth character. This reduction in central neurotics arguably allows for a more concentrated examination of their interplay.

Holly Hunter and Albert Brooks in a scene from the movie Broadcast News, directed by James L. Brooks.

Sitcom Roots vs. Cinematic Growth

Understanding Brooks requires acknowledging his sitcom origins. Sitcoms often rely on characters exhibiting core traits in hyperbolic, self-contained bursts, prioritizing familiarity and repetition over gradual evolution. This fosters a certain conservatism; characters rarely overcome fundamental flaws because their established personas are the product. Think of the unchanging nature of Ralph Kramden in The Honeymooners, Woody Allen’s consistent screen persona, or Archie Bunker’s ingrained prejudices. Change disrupts the formula.

Jackie Gleason as Ralph Kramden in the classic sitcom The Honeymooners.

Brooks’s feature films, however, reveal a director actively rooting for his characters to transcend their limitations. He seems genuinely invested in the possibility of change, even when the setup feels contrived. In I’ll Do Anything, he champions a self-centered actor’s journey towards better fatherhood. In As Good as It Gets, he pushes for the seemingly implausible transformation of the profoundly antisocial Melvin into a viable partner for Carol. This creates a unique contradiction: the characters and situations can feel artificial when viewed holistically, influenced by sitcom shorthand and even test-marketing pressures (the film reportedly had five endings tested), yet their moment-to-moment interactions often ring painfully true. The film walks a tightrope between formula and authenticity.

Deconstructing Melvin Udall: More Than Just OCD?

Melvin Udall is a bundle of abrasive traits: ritualistic behaviors concerning cleanliness, locks, sidewalks, and dining; a penchant for deeply offensive insults; and profound solipsism. While credited psychiatric consultants suggest clinical grounding, the film treats Melvin’s obsessive-compulsive disorder more as a collection of behavioral tics than a deeply explored psychological state. Brooks seems less interested in the why of Melvin’s condition – his traumatic childhood is alluded to once and quickly dismissed – than in the how: how he functions (or dysfunctions) and how his rigid routines are disrupted by Carol and Simon. Melvin’s stated profession as a successful romance novelist feels somewhat detached, a convenient label rather than an integrated aspect of his being.

Jack Nicholson, Helen Hunt, Greg Kinnear, and Verdell the dog in a car scene from As Good as It Gets (1997).

Jack Nicholson’s performance is crucial. His trademark devilish persona, honed in films from The Shining to Batman, is channeled into Melvin’s troubled nature. It becomes almost an auto-critique, exposing the insecurity potentially lurking beneath the actor’s familiar glibness. We see the established Nicholson charm weaponized as rudeness, only to gradually, painstakingly, give way to vulnerability. It’s a performance that leverages Nicholson’s star power while simultaneously interrogating it.

Verdell the Brussels Griffon dog, a key character in As Good as It Gets.

Carol and Simon: Anchors of Sanity and Heart

Helen Hunt delivers a dynamic performance as Carol. She’s a whirlwind of impulsive warmth, common-sense retorts, sudden vulnerability, and righteous anger. Hunt makes Carol every bit as unpredictable as Melvin, navigating treacherous emotional terrain with remarkable agility. While arguably the most “realistic” of the trio, Carol still embodies a certain musical-comedy waitress archetype, particularly in the charmingly stylized Village restaurant where she works. Her earnest attempt to write Melvin a thank-you letter, dictionary in hand, and subsequent reading of it aloud in the restaurant, feels like a classic MGM trope elevated by nuanced acting.

Jack Nicholson and Helen Hunt dining in the restaurant scene from As Good as It Gets.

Greg Kinnear’s Simon provides a necessary counterpoint. As the character with the most developed backstory (his break from his parents), he is perhaps the most conventionally drawn. His journey involves confronting his past, fitting a more traditional therapeutic model. Yet, his kindness, his artistic sensibility (presented with a Gene Kelly-in-An American in Paris flourish), and his bond with Verdell make him essential to the film’s emotional core, forcing Melvin out of his self-imposed isolation. Like Melvin the novelist, Simon the painter feels somewhat archetypal, less a realistic portrayal of an artist’s life than a functional role within the film’s emotional architecture.

Greg Kinnear as the artist Simon Bishop painting in his apartment in As Good as It Gets.

Beyond the Formula: Finding Truth in Interaction

Ultimately, the power of As Good as It Gets lies not in the plausibility of its overarching narrative or the clinical accuracy of its character profiles, but in the terrifying, beautiful, and comically real moments of interaction between Melvin, Carol, and Simon. Brooks focuses intently on the embarrassment, difficulty, and ethical weight of mutual readjustment as these individuals grapple with each other and their respective catastrophes. The film finds its bedrock truth in these exchanges, moments that resonate with the complex emotional negotiations found in the works of filmmakers like Leo McCarey or Vincente Minnelli.

A scene from the Vincente Minnelli film The Cobweb, illustrating complex character interactions.

Despite the inherent limitations stemming from sitcom sensibilities and industry pressures like test-marketing, Brooks achieves something remarkable. He crafts scenes where the raw vulnerability and tentative steps towards connection feel earned, even if the characters themselves occasionally strain credulity as fully formed individuals.

Conclusion

As Good as It Gets remains a compelling, if imperfect, exploration of human connection amidst profound dysfunction. It showcases James L. Brooks’s unique ability to mine emotional truth from characters forged in the crucible of sitcom structure and Hollywood convention. While the film’s premises might be debatable and its character arcs occasionally feel engineered, the authenticity found in the moment-to-moment interactions between Nicholson, Hunt, and Kinnear is undeniable. It reflects Brooks’s persistent, hopeful belief in the capacity for change, even for the most damaged individuals. The film successfully captures the messy, difficult, and ultimately rewarding process of strangers finding emotional footing together, leaving a lasting impression as a film that, despite its flaws, often feels deeply, surprisingly, humanly real – perhaps, in its own specific way, as good as it gets for this particular blend of comedy, drama, and character study.