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An Affecting Documentary on a Super Man

The function of Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story is to justify its own myth-making. That this is cynical is unsurprising, that it is mostly successful, is. I think part of that comes from the fact that twenty years after his death there is still an enormous amount of affection for Christopher Reeve. Like Jim Henson, John Candy, or indeed his best friend Robin Williams, his early death -and some would argue his tragic accident years before- left a crater in the public cultural heart that has never been remedied. It’s something about these figures of intense joy and warmth that makes it harder to take. But for Christopher Reeve, directors Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui make the case that these qualities in tandem with the struggle of his later years against arduous, seemingly insurmountable odds and passionate public activism made him genuinely the hero he became a household name for playing.
The movie is produced by DC Studios, which does have the rather sickening effect of tying Reeve’s life story even closer to their branded entity -something which he was never fully comfortable with in life, as the company in fairness lets the documentary touch on. Superman was not at all who Reeve was, much as the public perceived him as such -and before the accident he was doing as much as he could to get away from it, establish himself as the actor of depth and range he spent years at Julliard training to be. Again though, the movie walks fairly well the tightrope of acknowledging the box that role placed around him while insinuating it is an identity not so rough a thing for him to be associated with. Certainly it was a great boon to his causes.
It’s a dichotomy that isn’t fully resolved, but doesn’t necessarily need to be; and while the movie obviously can’t avoid the Superman story entirely -both in metaphor and Reeve’s actual history, the directors are gratifyingly restrained. From the start, the focus is on the family, who drive the documentary more than anyone. Matthew and Alexandra  (Reeve’s children with modelling executive Gae Exton) and Will (his son with wife Dana) recount the details of their lives in the immediate lead-up to the accident in 1995 -when Reeve was thrown forward off his horse in an equestrian competition and permanently broke his spine. As the film recounts his slow recovery and media attention, his early public appearances, industry work, and activism, it finds seemingly organic moments to flash back to his early life and training, the monster of Superman and his career over the eighteen years between that milestone and the injury.
While there are plenty of other talking heads, including some of Reeve’s celebrity friends and colleagues, the film feels very intimate to the Reeve family. Stretches of narration and much of the account of recovery come from previously recorded sound-bites of Reeve himself, including details of his rehabilitation and what motivated him to persevere and fight –primarily the love of Dana and his kids. And those kids fill in a lot of the rest of his story while leaving the more conventional biographical details when they come up to others. For these, the film tries to evenly split discussion points between experts and colleagues -though a shortcoming is that for being the subjects of so much of his activism, the film limits itself to just one disabled commentator affected by his work -the since late activist Brooke Ellison who had a personal relationship with Reeve.
The film is also not particularly comfortable with the negative aspects of his life and work, even though they are acknowledged by the kids and others. But very much like in Jim Henson: Idea Man, they are brushed over, and so we don’t get as firm a picture of the fear of commitment that broke up his relationship with Exton or the more controversial sides of his activism that could feel marginalizing and even a bit self-serving -the highly contentious 2000 SuperBowl ad for Nuveen Investments in which he was digitally made to walk again is touched upon.
And yet, you see his appearance at the 1996 Oscars, all that went into it and the rousing ovation he received by many visibly moved Hollywood stars. You see his speech at that same year's Democratic National Convention and other high-profile public appearances in front of the media and politicians calling for empathy and supports for people with severe spinal cord disabilities, and it is clear his passions came from a genuine place. In archive recordings, he is upfront about his dismissive attitude towards the disabled while filming the TV movie Above Suspicion (in which he played a paralysed character in his last role before the accident), but made the effort to know and research the lives and struggles of the paraplegic community through his recovery and afterwards. The emotional toll is palpable as accounts of his and his family's stress are juxtaposed against harsh imagery from Rear Window -his first post-accident movie; and then the jubilation in his face years later when in a scene from his physical therapy he starts to regain a little bit of movement in his legs.
Reeve is the film’s primary focus, but Bonhôte and Ettedgui are as fascinated by the stories in the periphery of his that hone in on the wider canvas of his legacy. Robin Williams features throughout the doc, seen as one of Reeve’s most loyal friends and supporters from their days as roommates together at Julliard. Williams spearheaded charity specials, frequently made generous gestures to the family; and one of the most gutting moments is Glenn Close speculating that Williams would still be alive if Reeves had lived, just ahead of the footage of a nakedly distraught Williams speaking at his friend’s funeral in 2004. Seemingly per the kids’ request, much attention is devoted to Dana -the cardinal person who inspired Reeve’s resilience- her story prior to the marriage and the emotional difficulties of caring for him. At one point Will reads a diary entry of hers that he found confessing to her struggle and mourning the parts of her husband that were lost with the accident. She died too just two years after her husband from complications of lung cancer, revealing another mostly unspoken tragic story: that of Will losing both his parents by the time he was fourteen.
Profound sadness lived in the periphery of Reeve’s life and that of his family, and yet the doc would argue it makes the triumphs of his life and activism more stark. All three kids now serve on the Board of Directors at the Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation and the ending of the doc makes a point to stress the breakthroughs that have been made since Reeve’s death, much of it from intense stem cell research which Reeve had championed. Superman casts a shadow over the movie but it is only a shadow, and the directors it is clear were interested in that insofar as they wanted to explore Reeve’s life through the lens of his statement -made near the end of his life- on what he believed a hero to really be: “An ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.” Consciously or not, it sums up Christopher Reeve pretty succinctly. And you don’t need Superman to see it.

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