Martin Scorsese’s 1999 film Bringing out the Dead is an adaptation of Joe Connelly’s excellent novel of the same name (the title actually comes from, as you might think, from the infamous scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail), which is actually based on his own experiences as an EMT in New York City, and tells the story of Frank, a burnt-out paramedic working the graveyard shift in Hell’s Kitchen who starts to see hallucinations/ghosts of his dead patients, namely Rose, a young woman who overdosed that he couldn’t save. Nicolas Cage stars, but he is unusually restrained for the most part here, and it’s one of his best films in my opinion, alongside some of his other less over-the-top roles such as Leaving Las Vegas, Joe, Raising Arizona, and Red Rock West, to name a few. But he’s great for the role – he really wanted to work with Marty, and Marty thought of him instantly when he read Connelly’s book. I devoured the book in a few days, and its themes of grief, overcoming trauma, healing, and rumination on why we cared about others really stayed with me. In addition, Frank’s philosophical and existential musings were very inspiring. I couldn’t unhear Nicolas Cage as I read the book, and that’s a good thing, although part of me kind of wishes I had read the book beforehand.
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