I’ve heard it said quite often that reality is nothing more than a common perception. That morality, mental health and the concept of “normal” are simply lies that everyone accepts as fact. If this is true, then it stands to reason that sanity — one’s mental health and grip on reality — is nothing more than conformity. Ergo, insanity is simply non-conformity. But what if conformity isn’t an option? What if so-called reason and rationality aren’t enough? What if being a non-conformist — and thus insane — is the only sane option? This, ladies and gentlemen, is the heart and soul of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

You’ve all probably heard of the premise to this movie. Randle P. McMurphy is a convict who fakes mental illness so he can be transferred to a mental institution. What you may not know is that McMurphy’s mental health is completely open to interpretation. Even at the film’s outset, when McMurphy first sits down with the head doctor, we learn that McMurphy may or may not be mentally ill, as he’s only been brought in for an evaluation. Rather, the doctor chooses to focus more on McMurphy’s anti-authoritarian streak and his smart-ass attitude. So is he insane or is he just pissing people off? Both? Neither?

And then we meet the other patients. We see them interact with Nurse Ratched, with the orderlies and with each other. And at some point during the initial group therapy session, it became obvious to me that these patients represent us. They’re simply common people, fighting with each other over petty insecurities. They all know that something’s wrong with them, even if they don’t completely know what it is. All they can do is live under the thumb of authority (read: Nurse Ratched) without question and with the hope that Big Brother will someday fix everything. Really, the only thing separating McMurphy is his knowledge that the authority is full of shit. Moreover, he refuses to acknowledge anything that interferes with personal freedom — his or anyone else’s.

A great example of this is when McMurphy plans to escape by knocking down a window with the hydrotherapy machine. It’s obvious he can’t lift the thing. Billy tells him point-blank that he can’t lift it. McMurphy himself most likely knows he can’t lift it, but damned if he shows any sign of it. No, he just keeps on taking bets that go increasingly high and lifts with every ounce of his strength until he inevitably loses. And all because of that whole bunch, McMurphy is the only one who never takes “no” for an answer.

His interactions with Chief are another good example. Yes, I’ll grant that he does make fun of Chief’s hearing impairment at first, but that’s beside the point. The point is that everyone takes it for granted that Chief is a deaf mute and is thus a complete vegetable. McMurphy — after the initial teasing — doesn’t. No, he does his damnedest to teach Chief basketball, even though he got nothing for it. Naturally, McMurphy’s faith in Chief eventually pays off in ways that help change the status quo forever.

And then there’s the World Series storyline. This is the entire movie in a nutshell. Authority dictates what happens while granting a small, brief and fragile illusion of autonomy. McMurphy tries at every step to assert not only his freedom, but the freedom of his fellow patients as well. He fails on the alleged basis of fairness and majority rule. McMurphy finds this untenable, so he merely pretends to watch the ball game until his cohorts join in. Are they all acting insane, or are they simply defying the status quo? Maybe both?

When the patients break loose for a fishing trip, their reactions call into question the benefits of life without limits over the constant care of walls and rules. We later learn that several among the group are voluntary and can leave anytime they please, but they’ve been living under pressure to conform for so long that they don’t assert their individuality until McMurphy reminds them that they have it. The doctors try increasingly hard to order, all while claiming that they’re trying to make the nonconformists “better.” Cheswick and McMurphy both repeatedly show that freedom without intelligence and prudence can be foolishness (insanity?). I could go on and on.

The bottom line is that the writing and direction here are beyond belief. Every character is compelling to watch because they are all wonderfully written, they all have arcs that are thematically relevant in some way and they are all superbly acted. Danny DeVito is nearly unrecognizable, Brad Dourif is charmingly vulnerable (which rather surprised me, given his usual choice of roles) and Christopher Lloyd is a volatile mix of manic and violent in his debut role.

Meanwhile, Louise Fletcher turns in a performance that shouldn’t be humanly possible. I have no idea how she managed to portray so much rage without raising her voice or changing her expression. Nurse Ratched’s head is like an adding machine behind a concrete wall and watching it work is fascinating. Additionally, Ratched’s motives make her even more formidable. How, after all, can anyone blame a woman so dedicated to her job? Even if Ratched was corrupt or some kind of sadist, how could anyone prove it when she stays so frustratingly calm and joyless? This is a character easy to imitate, but impossible to duplicate.

Nevertheless, this is Jack Nicholson’s show and he does wonders with it. McMurphy is a character who needs to be on the fence between sanity and craziness, and precious few can do that like the guy who played Jack Torrance. Hell, there were quite a few times when I thought I could see glimpses of Joker. McMurphy is totally unpredictable and Nicholson brought no end of life and intelligence to the character. He was amazing to watch.

(Side note: I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that the film was set in the Oregon State Hospital and was shot at the selfsame mental institution in the capitol of my home state. I should also point out that as bad as the hospital might have looked in the movie, it was a goddamn five-star hotel next to what it’s become since.)

Of course, there are a few problems. McMurphy has a strangely easy time climbing a barbed wire fence, it’s not exactly clear where the Christmas decorations came from and that third-act party dragged on and on. Still, these are just nitpicks only made more glaring by how amazing the rest of the film is.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is a masterpiece. Expertly written, superbly directed and phenomenally acted, with deep layers of themes such as the conflict of authority with freedom and the nature of insanity. This one comes highly recommended.