For those who don’t visit a therapist, Stutz is an insightful experience that will give audiences a menu of foods for thought. Unfortunately, the same isn’t true for those who do.

3/5 stars.

When I first heard of Jonah Hill’s Stutz – a documentary revolving around Hill and his relationship with his therapist Dr Phil Stutz – I was worried that I would not be able to see past the psychology of it.

Therapy is an intimate sport, one where points are scored on personal growth and the broadening of one’s perspectives. It is a two-player game, client rallying with therapist and, if Hill’s intention for the documentary is to bring psychology to the casual Netflix watcher, then the conversation may become one-sided. How can he ever make a case for the beauty of therapy when its process is solely told through his lens?

The film opens on Hill sitting down opposite Stutz, as if starting the hour and half-long therapy session that we are intruding in on, my fears of staged intimacy immediately proven right.

The pair have undeniable chemistry, but it is hard to ignore the presence of the camera, the presence of an edit, of a muted and melancholic colour grade as Stutz goes through basic theories rebranded under new names: Maslow’s hierarchy of needs Stutz-ified into the ‘Life Force’. As the doctor speaks he emits an air of ego, confident in his method without a hint of doubt – a quality that alienates rather than inspires.

Yet, as the conversation remains on the surface level of mental epiphanies, Hill suddenly addresses the performance elephant in the room. Yes, this is a film that has taken years to make; yes, conversations said months apart are being cut together to create new thoughts, but that doesn’t make it any less real. Hill puts himself in an extremely vulnerable position by removing the cinematic veil – a monumental risk that encompasses the therapy ethos by practice, walking the walk after so much quasi-shallow talk. 

While a lot of the concepts discussed remain obvious to those who attend these sessions, character starts to permeate the black-and-white frame. Stutz, once full of his own aptitudes, becomes more reserved, reigning in his cockiness when Hill needs a softer touch. Their dynamic is one of respect and love, both men professing their admiration for the other through off-the-cuff jokes, acutely aimed at insecurities the way a mentor might tease their favourite student.

While the film never delves too deeply into the troubled psyche – a task too great for what is effectively an empathetic crash course into therapeutic tools – Stutz does eventually add new angles to old ideologies. The idea that one shouldn’t base their self-worth on their achievements isn’t ground-breaking, but his simple imagery strikes powerful chords.

Many therapists may say that actions are incomparable to each other; that one achievement is neither worth more nor less than any other. Stutz, while drawing it out on small cards, calls this as the String of Pearls: each pearl is an action and the goal is to keep adding pearls to the string. It doesn’t matter whether the next pearl is passing your driving test or getting out of bed, only focus on stringing that next pearl.

Innocent admiration… Phil Stutz & Jonah Hill. Image: Netflix.

Concepts clicked into place but the most interesting of all topics is Stutz himself. Therapy 101 is intriguing, but when the doctor opens up to Hill about his own flaws, I didn’t want him to stop talking. Unfortunately, the emotional vignettes are fast and fleeting, Stutz’s life story told through a handful of impactful moments. And, as any good therapist would, he pushes Hill to also open up which, while representative of a therapy session, detracts from the focus of the film.

Or does it? Stutz is a mess of a film, never sure of where it should go next yet somehow finds its way there in a coherent and timely manner. It is short and doesn’t cover much, expanding on the few points it deems worthy but ends up dragging them out well past their needed explanations. Intelligent in its execution, Hill’s documentary style is anything but stereotypical, yet there is still an unignorable lack of substance. 

It is one of the best cinematic representations of what therapy actually feels like, messy and focused all at once. Repeating itself to hammer obvious points home isn’t a mistake but a choice, a decision that Hill makes knowingly as he successfully makes what can only be described as an interestingly introspective unravelling, unsuccessful in its transcendence but powerful in its calming clarity.