This year at the Toronto International Film Festival one of the big themes was the biographical film. Of the 20 films I saw at the festival, 9 are at least semi-biographical or based on real events. One of the best of this group is from Oscar winner Sian Heder titled Ser Heumann. This is a crowd-pleasing story that made me think about my own life and even my experience needing disability assistance at the festival.
I feel a degree of hesitation in describing myself as a disabled critic or in stating that I identify with the experiences portrayed in Ser Heumann. Part of that is probably due to internalized ableism, but also because I know that my need for help is largely self-imposed. I can hear people say that getting help climbing stairs or standing in line is contributing to my obesity, and how can I say that I identify with the experiences of people who are born with a disabled body? Even now, as I write, I can hear those voices in my head and feel conflicted about what my response is.
I guess I would say that disability is not necessarily a lifelong condition. For example, if I break my leg and use crutches, no one would disagree that I would be disabled and need help at that time. The same goes for my body right now. Additionally, not participating in the world because of my current body does not motivate or empower me to change my body. If anything, participating in things like TIFF makes it more likely to help me overcome the challenges my body faces.
At the end of the day, my body is what it is and I needed help to participate. This is what is important Ser Heumann. While inspiration can be found in the story of disability activist Judy Heumann, the film’s goal is more subtle. Judy and her fellow protesters are not trying to be inspirational figures. They simply try to enter buildings, move through rooms and communicate with their peers. This seems to be the most basic expectation that a community should insist on during all of its citizens and yet, as the film demonstrates, this humanity had to be fought for.
One of the special parts about Ser Heumann All disabled roles are played by disabled actors. This is not usually the case in Hollywood and gives it an authenticity that adds a lot to the film. Judy is played by Ruth Madeley and brings the right level of fight to the role while still having her share of flaws. I also appreciate that the script allows her to be sexy without ever feeling condescending or inauthentic about her experience. I could even imagine some leaving the movie feeling that Judy is unlikable, but I actually think that’s a good thing. The script allows her to have tunnel vision at times and even Judy has to accept the limitations caused by the disabilities of those she works with and fights for. This is much more effective than if she were portrayed as some kind of paragon of virtue.
I also appreciate that the film has a narrow focus. Instead of trying to portray Judy’s entire life or the disability rights movement, it focuses on the 1977 protests, which I honestly wasn’t familiar with. I was aware of the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) passed in 1990, but I had never heard of the sit-in that took place in 1977 at the Federal Building in San Francisco. This year has been a great year for movies that inspire me to learn more about history, including Young Washington and the uprising, and I would put Ser Heumann in this group.
If the film has weak points it is with Mark Ruffalo and his interpretation of Joseph Califano, Secretary of Health, Education and Welfare. He is the one who must sign section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, which prohibited any entity that receives federal funds from discriminating against the disabled. Califano had to sign the regulations so that they would go into effect and not return to the Congressional cycle of legislation (in this film President Carter is kept completely clean of any wrongdoing).
Still, Califano’s performance is woefully cartoonish and Ruffalo often feels like he’s in a comedy when everything else is quite serious. It would be nice if the script gave him a moment of humanity where he acknowledged the protesters’ simple requests, but he’s just a big fool.
Leaving aside that representation, Ser Heumann is a crowd-pleasing film that profiles an important movement in American history led by wonderful people like Judy Heumann. It has R-rated content, but I certainly think it’s okay for teens or anyone who can handle mature language and themes. I’m certainly glad I saw it and I’m grateful to live in a world where getting help with my own experience of disability, however minimal, is even a possibility. Thanks to Judy and others for fighting that fight.
Check out my friend Kristen Lopez’s new book, Popcorn Disabilities, to learn more about the representation of disabled people in film (ad).