Most people don’t know I had an older brother. He died two years ago from a surgical procedure he had while staying in the hospital. It was a total shock when I got the call from his ex-wife. He had just texted me a few hours earlier that he didn’t feel right. I didn’t think anything of it since he was already in the hospital and being looked after. My final text to him was to call someone for help. I am not sure I have processed those few meaningless words to this day.
My brother’s name was Robert. He went by Bob to everyone but my mom, dad, and me. Don’t ask me why. I just followed my parents’ choice, even though he was called Uncle Bob by both of my children. He and I were never really close. Our worlds were light-years away from each other. He was the extreme introvert, and I, the extrovert. He was into science, math, and computers. He could sit for hours at a time focused on solving some meaningless mathematical problem or scientific theory. He wouldn’t stop until he had found the solution. He was the young kid with a slide rule in his pocket at all times. He wore black, thick, horn-rimmed glasses. His pants were high on his waist, and plaid was his best friend, with the top button buttoned. He took Latin all four years in high school. He loved chess, not checkers. All of his books were arranged in alphabetical order, and each was covered with a brown paper sack book cover that he had measured and taped to perfection. He didn’t get his driver’s license until he was in his 20s. I got mine the day I turned 16.
One late Saturday evening when I was in high school and had just gotten home from a party, Robert knocked on my door with a project he had been working on all night. He had figured out “pi” to the three thousandth place. It wasn’t just 3.14. It went on and on forever. He had mimeographed about twenty copies and wanted to make sure I got mine. He was very proud of himself.
When computers made the scene, Robert became obsessed with discovering the internet and the complexities of cyberspace. It ended up being the beginning of a lifelong career and passion. His home was filled with more computers than anyone should ever have in their possession. When he died, our family discovered the garage was packed with computers and accessories from floor to ceiling, with every make and model down through the decades.
At the time, my parents, my brother’s ex, his daughter, and I didn’t think Robert was autistic or anywhere on the vast “spectrum.” He was extremely smart and high-functioning, but he had no common sense and very little emotional or empathic ability to relate to others unless he was talking about science, math, or computers. He and I had nothing in common. He simply saw the world through a different perspective. He moved through his everyday existence using a structured, strict schedule. We were brother and sister in name only. It was a miracle he married and had a daughter, but those relationships were fraught with problems as well. My brother lived a hard life, but I honestly don’t believe he ever really knew it. He just was…
Few movies dealt with mental health in 1988. It was still a taboo topic. It was not considered a plotline for box-office success until RAIN MAN hit theaters. This film triggered me over and over. It made me see a bit of my brother in a larger-than-life format. It brought the words autism and savant into the light for the first time. Millions of others and I could relate to the struggles of having a sibling who is not considered “normal.” This harsh, beautiful film showed how a person can come to terms with that realization while discovering how to let go, move on, and still love each other. It tore at audiences’ heartstrings through a powerful screenplay, thoughtful directing, and an amazing cast of characters. It touched my soul and made me yearn for the closure I would never find.
RAIN MAN was nominated for eight Academy Awards. Oscars were received for Best Picture, Director (Barry Levinson, BUGSY, WAG THE DOG), Screenplay, and Best Actor (Dustin Hoffman). It was filmed in sequential order for the road trip across the country. The budget was $25 million, and it made over $350 million worldwide. It was the highest-grossing film of the year after a slow start. RAIN MAN achieved its popularity through word of mouth.
Dustin Hoffman (THE GRADUATE, MIDNIGHT COWBOY, KRAMER vs. KRAMER) researched his part for a year before filming even began. He visited mental health facilities, talking with savants and all levels of autistic patients. He traveled to visit with the patients’ families as well. In the beginning, Hoffman was really reticent to accept the role if he couldn’t do it right. In the end, it was one of Hoffman’s favorite characters he ever created.
Hoffman fought for Raymond, battling Levinson’s original director’s notes. He was instrumental in Raymond being withdrawn and not a happy, high-functioning savant. The hardest moment for Hoffman was the “Burn Baby Scene.” He wanted to make sure he got it right so this difficult, emotional monologue could be relatable while still pushing every viewer’s heartstrings. He was brilliant. The mood, tone, and sheer panic were palpable. Levinson encouraged ad-libbing whenever necessary and often kept those improvised lines in the final cut.
Tom Cruise (MISSION IMPOSSIBLE) did not, in my opinion, get the recognition he deserved. He is a fine actor who played Charlie perfectly against his brother’s disconnected discord. His reactions to Raymond felt authentic to life. Audiences were able to grow and mature right along with Charlie as he learned the truths about his past and came to accept that his brother would never be like everyone else. This was a tough role to make resonate with the public. His impatience, anger, frustration, acceptance, and love were delivered with finesse and ease. Cruise and Hoffman would rehearse their lines together and often would exchange roles just to get a feel for what both characters were going through. Neither one of them believed the film would find its audience and would often joke to each other that they were just “two schmucks taking a cross-country trip together.” How little they knew about what the moviegoers were craving to see on screen.
There are iconic moments throughout RAIN MAN. The down escalator in Las Vegas will never be forgotten. Kudos to the costume department for making the perfect wardrobe choice. The scene when Charlie took Raymond away from his safe institutional home was priceless. The cinematography was stunning along that tree-lined path. The performance differences in the physicality of Cruise and Hoffman were brilliant. It was a gut punch every time I watched Raymond struggle to keep step with his older brother. K-Mart underwear, counting down the minutes to a must-see game show every evening, wet first kisses, hearing Raymond say repeatedly, “I can drive,” learning to dance in the penthouse, and the airport meltdown were pure genius that tightly threaded humor with desperate, intense scenarios, which in turn kept audiences on the edge of their seats. “When I was a child, and I got scared, the RAIN MAN would come and sing to me.” Maintaining mental health can be a bitch.
RAIN MAN is a tale of two brothers…one who desperately needs to change, and the other who simply cannot. It can be compared to STEINBECK’s OF MICE AND MEN. Both stories were entertaining, sentimental journeys. The cards each individual is dealt are not always what a person would choose. Our short time span of life can go a multitude of directions depending on infinite serendipitous seconds. RAIN MAN took several years to be produced, yet it became a sweet, sibling classic that would shine a huge spotlight on those who are mentally challenged. It was a necessary film. It was the first time autism was given a public platform. Kudos. It was time for mental health enlightenment. I wish I knew more when my brother was alive. I’d like to think we would have found our way back to discover who we were and how we could fit into each other’s lives.
RAIN MAN is available on Prime Video.

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