‘Men Without Chests’ and Scent of a Woman

My family recently enjoyed rewatching Scent of a Woman together and were reminded that it is, in fact, a holiday film. It’s a beautiful movie. It also exemplifies what C. S. Lewis describes in The Abolition of Man (Abolition).

Lewis describes “men without chests,” who have not been formed to live virtuously. He argues that this formation in virtue must begin at a young age. Children must see that there are objective virtues that must be taken seriously, otherwise they will see the idea of virtue as propaganda for better living or a farce that no one takes seriously.

Scent of a Woman is a film that wants to know what happens to men when they forfeit their virtue, or when virtue has been trained out of them. In particular, what does it reduce a man to when he surrenders his integrity?

The film focuses on Charlie Simms (Chris O’Donnell), a poor student from Oregon on scholarship to attend the prestigious Baird Prep School. He accepts a job on Thanksgiving break, assisting Lt. Col. Frank Slade (Al Pacino), whose family needs someone to look after the blind officer while they visit relatives. Before the holiday break, Simms and a classmate witness Baird students commit an act of vandalism.

Both Simms and his classmate are questioned by Headmaster Trask, whose car was damaged by the students. Neither boy wants to snitch, and so the headmaster tells them they will face a disciplinary hearing and risk expulsion if they don’t inform on the vandals. Trask also offers Simms an incentive to be his informant, dangling a recommendation to Harvard.

The film is not interested in whether the boys should have reported on their friends but whether Simms will inform to save his education and accept Trask’s bribe. Simms doesn’t know what to do but he does know that he cannot inform under such circumstances. His schoolmate assures him that his father, a large donor to the school, will help them.

Simms heads off to the holidays, facing an uncertain future. Slade, angry and bitter, still maintains vestiges of his former greatness. “He was a real hero,” his niece tells Simms. Unbeknownst to everyone, Slade has bought two plane tickets to New York with the intention of having one last hedonistic week before killing himself. Only after his family leaves for vacation does he tell Simms his plans.

Through their trip, the two men come to a mutual respect and, on some occasions, admiration of one another. Simms is frequently surprised by the military officer’s abilities and sees him not as the angry, cynical man he has become but as the man his niece described. He is a man who recognizes and prizes virtue in others precisely because he has failed to live a virtuous life himself. The film makes clear that this and not his blindness is Slade’s real source of despair. In moments of honesty, he insists, “I’m rotten” and “I’m no [expletive] good.”

Unlike Trask, Slade realizes his deficit. Trask goes through the movie unaware that some part of himself is missing. His whole self-understanding is wrapped up in a false sense of self-righteousness. But Slade is like the amputee who feels the phantom pain of a lost limb. He is painfully, constantly aware of what is gone. He knows that in Lewis’s words, “he is a man without a chest.”

When defending Simms to Trask, Slade states, “Now I have come to the crossroads in my life. I always knew what the right path was. Without exception, I knew. But I never took it. You know why? It was too damn hard.”

Before they return, Simms realizes that his schoolmate will not support him at the hearing. He is seemingly on his own. Slade tells Simms that he should take the same route and snitch. He has become cynical, thinking that all people are devoid of virtue. But Simms refuses to do so.

Slade challenges him, “Yeah. Conscience, Charlie. When were you born, son? Around the time of the Round Table? Ha! Haven’t you heard? Conscience is dead.” Simms quietly replies, “No, I haven’t heard.” He insists that he won’t report to save himself, and he also insists that he won’t let Slade kill himself, demanding that he give over his bullets.

Slade’s desire to kill himself is his worst act of the film, and the picture is not ambiguous about that. Slade is confronted with a hard choice. Live life while blind, live a virtuous life, despite circumstance, or kill himself. He once again is prepared to go for the easy way out. He has become a man who despairs of his ability to do the good he knows he should. And suicide, no matter how it is dressed up, is the ultimate act of despair. By its very nature, it can never be virtuous.

Simms saves Slade from himself, both by preventing his actual suicide, which he prevents at personal risk, and by refusing to allow himself to give in to the despair his circumstances seem to demand.

Surrounded by “men without chests,” Simms persists in living a life of quiet virtue, in a world that seems to seldom reward it. Both Simms and Slade, having returned from New York, arrive at what Slade calls “a crossroad” before returning home to begin rebuilding his life. Slade defends Simms at his hearing and reminds the Baird School of the importance of inculcating true virtue at a young age.

For Slade, it’s the first step toward a life of virtue.

“As I came in here, I heard those words, ‘Cradle of Leadership’. Well, when the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. And it has fallen here. It has fallen. Makers of men, Creators of leaders. Be careful what kind of leaders you’re producing here…I’ve been around, ya know? There was a time I could see. And I have seen. Boys like these, younger than these. Their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there is nothing like the sight of an amputated spirit. There’s no prosthetic for that,” Slade states.

In the words of C.S. Lewis, “And all the time—such is the tragi-comedy of our situation—we continue to clamor for those very qualities we are rendering impossible…In a sort of ghastly simplicity we remove the organ and demand the function. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful.”

Lewis, too, recognized that training in virtue begins at a young age. Abolition, after all, is a critique of an elementary school grammar book. It is essential for young people to learn that their decisions have real moral consequences. There are men living lives of virtue to be admired, and for “men without chests”, the mercy of God is there waiting to make them whole again.