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A Representative though Unflattering Image of the Hearing Impaired


       I missed this movie in August and really didn’t think I would end up going back to see it. One of the low-key most surprising things to come out of the Oscars announcement Tuesday was that CODA, the Apple TV+ original movie that most folks had seemingly forgotten about, secured three nominations –including for Best Picture. So clearly there’s something to it that Academy voters saw as valuable, which is enough reason for me at least to check it out. And there is something fascinating to its’ subject: the life and family relationships of a child of deaf adults.
      CODA does shine a spotlight on that world in a way that hasn’t been much seen, at least in American popular culture –the film is in fact a remake of a 2014 French movie. It’s written and directed by Sian Heder and depicts the unusual life and trials of a girl who is the one hearing member of an all-deaf family in seaside Massachusetts. The girl Ruby, is played by Emilia Jones. Her parents and brother are played by real deaf actors in a triumph of representative casting. It was Academy Award winner Marlee Matlin (the first and until this year only deaf recipient of an Oscar nomination), who fought for deaf actors to be cast as her co-stars. And it does make a considerable difference, lending authenticity to a movie that feels very inauthentic in other regards.
      For all its’ considerations, characterization, and details that actively subvert and challenge misconceptions about the hearing impaired, CODA is still a movie about a hearing girl, told from her centred perspective to a hearing audience –the deaf family often serving as her unique curiosity at the best of times, her obstacle at the worst. The biggest dissonance the film wants to emphasize is Ruby’s secretive passion for singing and music, which she feels somewhat embarrassed about, in light of the context of her parents’ deafness. This might be an interesting issue of self-consciousness to explore but the movie seems to indicate that Ruby is right to be embarrassed; that her parents can’t understand or appreciate music, or more importantly their daughters’ interest in it. Her singing in her school choir and pursuit of a scholarship to Berklee College encouraged by her passionate teacher (Eugenio Derbez) then becomes an act of breaking free from a life and structure that has apparently been difficult for her.
      In this it doesn’t much paint its’ deaf characters in a positive light. There’s a great disconnect between Ruby and the rest of her family, and it’s framed as mostly their fault –that they don’t support her, aren’t receptive to her interests, and take her for granted. Which is pretty serious considering how much she does for them and how seemingly dependent on her they are. This film I remember being controversial in the deaf community and it’s no surprise. While some of the behavior exhibited by the Rossi family can be chalked up to mere character flaws, others such as their antisocial tendencies and reliance on Ruby (instead of a professional interpreter, digital aid, or even just writing shit down) for their every communication need seem to be generalizations designed to emphasize them as a burden to Ruby. A story is related of her having to order food for her parents at a restaurant when she was a child –which effectively colours them as completely incompetent. You don’t need to know deaf people personally to know they have more agency than that –that they can engage in society in ordinary, meaningful ways.
      And this does a disservice to the actors who are very good otherwise. The biggest stand-out is Troy Kotsur (Oscar-nominated) as father Frank, a career fisherman who goes private in response to unfair regulations from the fishing board. He’s got a lot of personality and is the only member of the family apart from Ruby who has a sufficient character arc –and rather nicely, it doesn’t revolve around something obvious like ableist discrimination (that instead comes courtesy of Ruby’s asshole classmates). Kotsur resonates a strong working-class determination and pride –and he’s got great chemistry with Matlin, as their two characters are shown to have a healthy relationship and active sex life. And Daniel Durant, playing older brother Leo, is a nice discovery as well. Additionally, the family’s conversations in ASL are a good feature that breaks down any empathetic barriers and normalizes sign language. Though in a clear concession to hearing audiences, Ruby often speaks at the same time as she signs, despite being in the presence of only deaf people.
      Jones herself for what she’s given, makes do alright. She relates well Ruby’s heightened sense of insecurity and responsibility stemming from the pressure she’s under and the notoriety of her family. The weight of her experiences is felt and there’s drama there worth exploring –but Heder isn’t all that interested by it, concentrating focally on the music side of things, a more tepid character conflict. Here too though Ruby is put through contrived drama, such as an impatient teacher unwilling to accommodate her and a love interest (played by Sing Street’s Ferdia Walsh-Peelo) who commits the dumbest betrayal of trust you could think of. There’s really no nuance applied to this through-line and what it means for Ruby.
      It works out of course, her family comes to understand and appreciate her talent -relayed through a series of scenes built out of sentiment clichés: Frank coming around by seeing how an audience reacts to Ruby’s singing, or the whole family coming to Ruby’s Berklee audition where she signs a song for them. This latter is a genuinely nice, delicate moment, owing more to Jones’ dedication and to the Joni Mitchell song she performs, than any actual earnestness that is imparted. But it doesn’t have any bearing on what came before -accessibility and sign language were not the issues. All throughout the movie’s resolution there are these great beats, artfully directed but contextually hollow.
      CODA can only be viewed in closed captioning. The subtitles for the sign language are linked with those for speaking characters, ensuring the film is accessible just the same whether its’ audience is deaf or not. It’s a sweet gesture, but it is only that. A lot of calculation went into this movie and not a lot of honesty. Frankly, it’s no Sound of Metal, which had less on-screen deaf talent but centred a deaf story with much greater conviction. Yet even setting aside those choices in depiction, Heder just isn’t terribly ambitious in her story -one that is meant to spotlight a kind of person and circumstance rarely seen in media. It’s an open door that we should be thankful for, but not one that should be paid much mind once we’re through.

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