English literary scholar Vivian Bearing (Emma Thompson) has spent years deciphering and interpreting the metaphysical poetry of John Donne. Alas, she is a person who has cultivated her intellect at the expense of her heart. Both colleagues and students view Bearing as a chilly and aloof person lost in her private world of words and arcane musings.

At the age of 48, she is diagnosed with stage-four metastatic ovarian cancer. Dr. Kelekian (Christopher Lloyd) wants her to take eight high-dose experimental chemotherapy treatments for eight months. He warns her that she will need to be "tough" — to rely upon large reserves of inner courage and willpower.

Vivian tries to remain stoical as she suffers through questions and tests from technicians; "grand rounds," where she is prodded by medical students and treated like a specimen rather than a human being; the loneliness of time spent in an isolation ward; the terrible side-effects of the chemotherapy; and then the pain of the still spreading cancer.

Mike Nichols directs this mesmerizing adaptation of Margaret Edson's 1999 Pulitzer Prize-winning play. Every dying person is a book, and it is a privilege to be present for the final chapter. As Elizabeth Kubler-Ross has noted: "People die in character." Through several flashbacks we gain insights into Vivian's life: an encounter with her mentor E. M. Ashford (Eileen Atkins), who warns her to spend more time with friends; a special moment as a child with her father (Harold Pinter), who encourages her delight in words and their intricate meanings; and several moments with students in need who were not treated compassionately.

Although Vivian has used her intellect and her dry wit as a shield to carry her through life, these are of little value in the face of death. She sees her enslavement to abstractions and her indifference to others mirrored in the actions of Jason Posher (Jonathan M. Woodward), an ambitious clinical fellow working under Dr. Kelekian.

Eventually Vivian realizes that the chemotherapy treatments have failed. She turns to Posner for comfort but he's unable to help. Late one night, she talks to Susie (Audra McDonald), her nurse, about her fears about death. They share a popsickle in a precious moment of deep intimacy. Susie carefully raises the subject of the options available should Vivian's heart stop, suggesting she may want to have Dr. Kelekian note her preference on her chart. Vivian chooses to be DNR (Do Not Resuscitate). Later, as Vivian lies in a near coma, Susie tenderly rubs lotion on her hands. Small acts of kindness characterize her caring.

In one of the most heart-affecting scenes in the drama, the elderly E. M. Ashford visits her former student who is now heavily sedated with morphine. She asks Vivian if she wants her to recite some poetry by John Donne. No, no! — Vivian signals. So Ashford climbs into bed with her, cradling her head in her lap, and reads from the children's classic The Runaway Bunny. In the end, the last moments of life are moments of total unpretentiousness. Everything else falls away.

Wit is a powerful drama about dying and death that will soften the heart of anyone who sees it.