Based upon Life, Animated: A Story Of Sidekicks, Heroes and Autism by Ron Suskind
Produced and Directed by Roger Ross Williams
**** (four stars)
RATED PG
How do we become the people that we each are? How do we find ourselves or even realize that we are already traveling upon roads in which to make the discovery? How do we find and write our own stories that are within ourselves? And for that matter, do those stories exist within us the entire time just waiting for us to locate them and then express them as ourselves to ourselves and others as we venture into the world?
As incomprehensible it is to fathom for those of us who happen to be living without any sense of cognitive disabilities, it is striking for me to try and place myself into a possible mind/emotional space as if I were a person living with a cognitive disability. If I were autistic, for instance, what does an inner journey like the one I described even mean?
In my real world life as a preschool teacher, I have had countless experiences over 25 years working with children who have been diagnosed or would eventually be diagnosed on some level, of the autistic spectrum, from high functioning to those who are assisted with specialized aides, to those who are essentially non-verbal and unable to communicate in a so-called standard fashion. I am not an expert by any means and even when speaking with professionals trained in this specialized field of working with children with autism, there remains this element of the unknown. How can we, as teachers, every really know that we are reaching and connecting and vice versa? I have often wondered what it would be like if I could purchase a ticket to get a ride around the brains of any of my students with autism. What would I find? What might it be like to experience how they experience the world?
I remember seeing the trailer for Roger Ross Williams' documentary "Life, Animated" five years ago and for whatever reasons, I just never got around to seeing it even though it instantly garnered my interest. As these things go, I forgot about it, and somehow, it came to me the other day and I found it on YouTube in its entirety of all places...and FREE to stream. What resulted for me was an undeniably moving, magical, mysterious film that truly extended far beyond its subject matter of following one subject and his family, to allowing to think of myself, to even the transformative power of the movies and all art, for that matter, as a means to translate emotions into connection.
Roger Ross Williams' "Life, Animated" invites us into the lives of the Suskind family, as we explore two distinct stages in their lives. In one, we meet the family patriarch Ron Suskind, then the Senior National Affairs writer for The Wall Street Journal, his wife Cornelia, older son Walter and younger son Owen--who was diagnosed with regressive autism at the age of 3, when he suddenly lost the capabilities of speech and his communicative skills and fully withdrew into silence. In the second time period, we experience the adult Owen, at the age of 23, speaking, communicating and readying himself for graduation, moving out of his home to enter his own apartment in an assisted living community.
Yet, what had transpired between the two periods was nothing short of inexplicably miraculous. For after a year of silence from Owen, he and his family surprisingly discovered and learned how to communicate with each other through Owen's love of animated Disney films, which he watched habitually. By his adulthood, Owen's passion for Disney remained steadfast as the films assisted him with processing his emotions, self-awareness and place in the world, especially via the sidekick characters he adored, as well as offering him guidance, solace, comfort, motivation, confidence, creative inspiration and growing self esteem to aid his navigation into a world that is markedly not like a Disney film.
Yet, what had transpired between the two periods was nothing short of inexplicably miraculous. For after a year of silence from Owen, he and his family surprisingly discovered and learned how to communicate with each other through Owen's love of animated Disney films, which he watched habitually. By his adulthood, Owen's passion for Disney remained steadfast as the films assisted him with processing his emotions, self-awareness and place in the world, especially via the sidekick characters he adored, as well as offering him guidance, solace, comfort, motivation, confidence, creative inspiration and growing self esteem to aid his navigation into a world that is markedly not like a Disney film.
Roger Ross Williams' "Life, Animated" is a wonder of a film. No, this experience is not a treatise upon autism itself from a clinical standpoint but is presented through a more emotional lens, as Williams and the Suskind family attempt to give the viewer a sense of what Owen's life feels like. And in doing so, we can gather a sense of what it might be like to either walk in Owen's shoes or to be the people who care for him and at best, a little bit of both. This is why all of the interview footage, Suskind home movies and videos, and having Owen address us directly to the camera and explaining what life feels like for him is more beneficial in this case than viewing something more explicitly Scientific, so to speak. The emotion brought me closer instead of keeping me at arms length.
Even further are the film's animated sequences as devised by the visual effects company Mac Guff. What is notable about these sequences as a conduit into the inner experience of Owen Suskind, is how they are based within, and therefore augment, Owen's own illustrations and storytelling, all developed from his communicative re-emergence via Disney films. Which then, delves deeper into the similarities and differences between those living with autism and those who do not. I do not wish to over-simplify anything regarding this subject matter but Owen's story made me question just how far apart he and I (a person not on the autism spectrum) actually are or not, as well as the greater issues of how outside stimuli, especially when accessed through pop culture, inspire and therefore, unlock.
This may seem silly but bear with me. As a child, I was obsessed with The Monkees. They were the very first band that I ever loved and the television series was pure joy to experience for me, from their antics and of course, the bounty of great songs performed in every episode. At that time, and even as an avid record store traveler, albums by The Monkees were almost impossible to find, so as a means of gathering a collection of the music, I would sit in front of the television with a tape recorder and record every episode (while praying for the telephone to not ring thus ruining a perfect recording).
For whatever reason, at some point, I wanted to extend this experience and so, using my tape recorder and a typewriter, I began transcribing everything I recorded, thus essentially reproducing television scripts for myself. Again, I didn't know why I was performing this feat but I wanted to, I enjoyed myself, I gained satisfaction from it. Now, as an adult, I firmly believe that I used my love of The Monkees, and furthermore, my love of the movies and the written word, as a means to deconstruct a television show all the way to existing as words upon a page. I wanted to see how movies worked conceptually, which over time, led me to writing original scripts and writing overall. I believe Savage Cinema exists today because of whatever was living inside of me, that I could not articulate because I was so young, but needed to find a way to be expressed. And now, I as of you to just think about yourselves, who you are now and who you were then and how much did you just know about yourself or how much time did it take to reveal yourself to yourself?
My love and obsession of all things John Hughes perhaps, is much more akin to what we see with Owen and his love of Disney films. As I have expressed many times upon this site, Hughes' work during my teen years served as the best and most indispensable guide to adolescence that I could have wished for as they performed much of the same feats. They were entertaining, of course. But, they existed as solace, comfort, much needed humor, understanding, patience, empathy and as a means of me trying to understand myself to myself, especially when I just didn't have the words on my own but just these seemingly intangible emotions.
For whatever reason, at some point, I wanted to extend this experience and so, using my tape recorder and a typewriter, I began transcribing everything I recorded, thus essentially reproducing television scripts for myself. Again, I didn't know why I was performing this feat but I wanted to, I enjoyed myself, I gained satisfaction from it. Now, as an adult, I firmly believe that I used my love of The Monkees, and furthermore, my love of the movies and the written word, as a means to deconstruct a television show all the way to existing as words upon a page. I wanted to see how movies worked conceptually, which over time, led me to writing original scripts and writing overall. I believe Savage Cinema exists today because of whatever was living inside of me, that I could not articulate because I was so young, but needed to find a way to be expressed. And now, I as of you to just think about yourselves, who you are now and who you were then and how much did you just know about yourself or how much time did it take to reveal yourself to yourself?
My love and obsession of all things John Hughes perhaps, is much more akin to what we see with Owen and his love of Disney films. As I have expressed many times upon this site, Hughes' work during my teen years served as the best and most indispensable guide to adolescence that I could have wished for as they performed much of the same feats. They were entertaining, of course. But, they existed as solace, comfort, much needed humor, understanding, patience, empathy and as a means of me trying to understand myself to myself, especially when I just didn't have the words on my own but just these seemingly intangible emotions.
That is part of the magic of the movies. The ability to allow us to be transported visually and emotionally into an experience we otherwise would never have on our own in our daily lives. Cinematic storytelling additionally allows us a window into ourselves, as we constantly on our individualized journeys of self discovery. And at their best, the movies will deliver that story, character or feeling that we can each recognize within ourselves. Those moments that make us announce to ourselves, "That's ME!" Within "Life, Animated," the connection between Owen and Disney films is palpable and often mesmerizing to regard as it is his story while also being our story as our respective engagements with the human condition are universal.
But even so, these connections and guidance do have their limits.
As wondrous as it is to witness how Disney animated movies allowed Owen Suskind an avenue to communicate with his family and begin his understanding of his own life experience, the films also helped him with entering a life of schooling, growing up, forming a Disney Club with the purpose of making friends and exploring life via the films together. The films inspired him to draw and create his own art, to become a storyteller, to graduating, to obtaining his own apartment, to even writing and giving a speech in France about his life as a young man living with autism. All of that being said, Roger Ross Williams' film also gently expresses the precariousness of such a connection. To paraphrase Owen's Mom, life always changes while Disney films will always stay the same.
Which again makes me question just how far apart is someone like Owen to myself, especially as pop culture is so prevalent? I know that my notions of love and romance were as fueled by John Hughes' films as they were by the music I cherish and has formulated me. However, much like as so richly described in Nick Hornby's High Fidelity, life is not a pop song and that sweeping romantic ending has never come to pass in the way that Hughes' films gave me hope, and I would gather that for you, there are similar stories.
The late sections of "Life, Animated," as Owen makes his way into his apartment and therefore, begins to have the adult experiences he has expressed nervousness and excitement about throughout the film. These are sequences fraught with a certain eggshell tension as we have grown our affection for Owen and only wish to see him succeed. Upon moving in, for instance, there is a moment when is unable to find his medication and he is now alone in his apartment without anyone to assist him. Interpersonal relationships suddenly change. What of finding employment? What of Owen's attitudes towards sex and sexuality? And then, there is the slow moving inevitability that his parents are aging and will one day pass on, leaving his older brother Walter as the protector, a responsibility he is willing to face but is unsure of how. The Disney films may hold the comfort but they do not hold all of life's answers and the questions of how that reality plays out with Owen are as fascinating as they are sometimes aching.
I am friends and co-teachers with a wonderful young woman who happens to have a twin brother living with autism. I have not met him but as she has described him to me, I am understanding that he is indeed further along the spectrum than Owen Suskind due to the extent of his personal needs, including his communication skills or lack thereof. My friend also possesses a deep connection to Disney animated films and stories, as they have also served as a means of communication and connection between herself and her brother. As I watched "Life, Animated," I often thought of her and him and what their relationship has been like, as children and now as adults and most likely, facing some of the very same questions and quandaries that Owen and his family experience. If anything, the film gave me a slightly larger glimpse into her world as I regarded Owen Suskind's world. Again, the magic of the movies in action.
Roger Ross Williams' "Life, Animated" is an emotional journey designed to build understanding and empathy as we gather a larger glimpse into the inner world of a 23 year old man living with autism attempting to have a human experience. It is a beautiful film, poignant, enlightening and graceful in its directness and artfulness. And it accomplishes what the best documentaries do when operating at their finest for how much we can gather about our own lives as we learn about Owen's.
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