Running with Scissors: The Chaos, the Creativity, and the Catharsis
There are movies you watch and forget.
And then there are movies that feel like a fever dream someone pulled straight from your subconscious, dusted off, and projected onto the screen.
Running with Scissors is the latter.
Messy, brilliant, disorienting — like growing up in a house where no one ever shuts a door or acknowledges reality in the same way twice.
If you’ve seen it, you already know: it’s not a feel-good film. It’s a feel-everything film. Which is exactly why I love it.
Wait, What Is This Movie?
Released in 2006, Running with Scissors is based on the bestselling memoir by Augusten Burroughs, directed and adapted by Ryan Murphy (yes, that Ryan Murphy, before Glee, Pose, or American Horror Story fame). It tells the story of young Augusten, a boy whose poet mother hands him off to her eccentric psychiatrist — leading to a childhood defined by disorder, neglect, and the kind of dark humor that only comes from survival.
The cast? Absolutely stacked:
Joseph Cross as Augusten Burroughs
Annette Bening as his mother, Deirdre — in a devastating, unhinged, award-worthy performance
Brian Cox as Dr. Finch, the psychiatrist with very questionable methods
Gwyneth Paltrow, Evan Rachel Wood, Joseph Fiennes, Alec Baldwin, and Jill Clayburgh round out the cast as various beautifully broken characters in Augusten’s life
Award Shows Didn’t Know What to Do With This One
Critics were pretty split on Running with Scissors — some loved its raw, chaotic brilliance, others didn’t know what to do with it. But it still picked up some well-deserved recognition. Annette Bening earned a Golden Globe nomination for her haunting, unhinged portrayal of Deirdre, and Jill Clayburgh snagged a Satellite Award nod for her role as the quietly tragic Finch matriarch. The film was also nominated for a GLAAD Media Award, which makes sense — it gave queer audiences a story that felt messy, real, and completely unlike the polished coming-out narratives we were used to.
No, it didn’t sweep the Oscars. But it left a very specific, very permanent mark — especially on people who saw their own strange, beautiful, dysfunctional lives reflected in its chaos.
How Ryan Murphy Turned Trauma Into Art (Again)
Murphy was drawn to the memoir because of its rawness, its absurdity, and the way it straddled the line between humor and heartbreak. He once described it as a story that “celebrates survival” — not in a triumphant, music-swells-in-the-background kind of way, but in a messy, nonlinear, real way.
In an interview, Murphy said:
“I loved the idea of a young gay kid being able to survive this absolute circus, and still keep his sense of self — and his sense of humor.”
That theme of survival — not despite the madness, but through it — is at the heart of this film.
Faith, Fear, and Fabulous Dysfunction
Augusten’s queerness isn’t just a subplot — it’s central to the story. But what makes this film stand out is how it doesn’t sensationalize it. He’s not cast out or “othered” in the typical coming-of-age way. Instead, his queerness is just one more layer in a life already full of contradictions.
His complicated relationship with an older man (played by Joseph Fiennes) is one of the most raw, unsettling arcs — not because it’s queer, but because it’s built on trauma and power imbalance, something queer youth (especially in past decades) were often left to navigate alone.
The film also pokes at religious repression and spiritual chaos, particularly through the Finch family’s bizarre pseudo-Christian dogma. From bathroom revelations to doomsday predictions pulled from bowel movements (yes, really), the religious overtones are absurd and terrifying — a satirical take on spiritual abuse and manipulation that many viewers, queer or not, can recognize.
The Neurodivergent Undercurrent
Let’s call it what it is: Running with Scissors is quietly neurodivergent-coded.
You won’t hear terms like autism or ADHD in the script. But the characters navigate the world in fragmented, nonlinear, overstimulated ways that feel familiar if your brain doesn’t run the "default" operating system.
Augusten’s obsession with beauty, control, and escape
His mother's poetic delusions and extreme emotional swings
The psychiatrist's need for ritual and authority
The household’s disregard for structure and boundaries
It’s not diagnostic. But it’s deeply resonant — especially for those of us who grew up misunderstood, over-intellectualized, or emotionally parentified.
Art Direction That’s as Unhinged as It Is Beautiful
The production design by Richard Sherman and art direction by Dan Clancy deserve a post of their own.
From the moldy kitchen to the forever-Christmas tree, the visual world of the Finch house is cluttered, decaying, and oddly enchanting — a physical manifestation of untreated mental illness and spiritual entropy. It’s 1970s suburban nightmare meets outsider art installation.
And then there’s Augusten’s world — filled with torn-out magazine pages, gleaming hair product ads, and dreams of New York sophistication. The visual contrast between his inner life and external reality is subtle but powerful.
The styling, the sets, the color palette — they don’t just support the story. They are the story.
Why You Should Watch It (or Rewatch It Now That You're Older and Have a Therapist)
I should probably mention — Augusten Burroughs isn’t just some author I admire from afar. He’s my all-time favorite writer. His work was the first that made me feel like maybe being dark, witty, and deeply sensitive wasn’t a contradiction — it was a superpower. And once, in what still feels like a surreal moment plucked from someone else’s highlight reel, I actually got to meet him. I interviewed him live on a radio show in Manhattan — wide-eyed, probably over-caffeinated, and trying very hard to seem like I wasn’t freaking out. He was everything I hoped he’d be: sharp, kind, and completely himself. It only made me love his work more.
Watch this movie if:
You grew up in a family where the adults were unpredictable and the furniture never quite matched
You process your trauma through humor, aesthetics, and late-night journaling
You’re queer, neurodivergent, or both — and still trying to untangle what parts of you are yours and what were coping mechanisms
You love stories that don’t resolve neatly, but still leave you changed
Survival Is an Art Form
Running with Scissors doesn’t tell you how to heal.
It just shows what it looks like to keep going when your foundation is cracked, your compass is busted, and the grown-ups never showed up.
And somehow — in the mess, the absurdity, and the moments of brutal honesty — it offers something rare:
Not closure. But recognition.
And for those of us who’ve spent our whole lives trying to make sense of the chaos? That’s enough.
