I\u2019ve been bemoaning the state of disability in cinema for the last year. But just like Neil Armstrong took one small step for man, last weekend\u2019s release of the Jake Gyllenhaal drama Stronger<\/i> might squeak the door open a smidge toward acknowledging actual disabled people in their own narratives. <\/span><\/p>\n The true story of Jeff Bauman (Gyllenhaal), who lost both his legs in the Boston Marathon bombing, follows the general themes already laid out by disabled narratives, focusing on white men hobbled in the prime of their life. The distinction lies in how director David Gordon Green and screenwriter John Pollono use disability as a gateway to questioning why the same disabled stories are told in the first place. <\/span><\/p>\n Stronger<\/i>\u00a0owes a great deal to Forrest Gump<\/em>, even referring to that film\u2019s disabled antihero, Gary Sinise\u2019s Lt. Dan, to punctuate Jeff\u2019s newly amputated status. Forrest Gump<\/i> was the first wheelchair-bound character I ever experienced, and though his bitterness was already a trope for disabled narratives \u2014 previously seen in Oliver Stone\u2019s Born on the Fourt<\/i>h of July<\/em> \u2014 there\u2019s an outlet for it. As Lt. Dan criticizes a priest for telling him \u201cGod is listening,\u201d it\u2019s an understandable moment of doubt and contempt for how able-bodied people simplify disability. In Stronger\u2019s<\/i> case, Jeff\u2019s plight extends beyond the individual, toward a society that too often glorifies disability for media purposes. <\/span><\/p>\n The film\u2019s first half follows Jeff as he battles PTSD and his family\u2019s misguided attempts to find benefits, whether motivated by their own selfishness or not, to Jeff\u2019s disability. He waves a flag at a hockey game, is invited to be interviewed by Oprah, and becomes the symbol of \u201cBoston Strong.\u201d His repeated questioning of why he\u2019s become the \u201chero\u201d of the bombing falls on deaf ears, leading to an increased burden as he struggles to deal with his own changes on top of being a representative for the tragedy. <\/span><\/p>\n In the wake of any tragedy, the media often picks out a specific person to become the beacon of hope for those who survived. Oftentimes this person is picked based on how much the media perceives they\u2019ve suffered. The film slyly criticizes the media for assuming Jeff is a saintly figure purely because he\u2019s become disabled. At one point a couple asks for a picture with him and have no qualms with declaring that his tragedy inspires them to be thankful for their lives. <\/span><\/p>\n This goes to the heart of why the same disabled narratives exist in the first place: They act as cautionary tales for the able-bodied. People in the movie see Jeff’s situation as something to pity, something to exploit, or something to remind them how precious life is, all of which drives him to further isolate himself from his loved ones. The only one who doesn\u2019t treat him like a precious object is his girlfriend, Erin (Tatiana Maslany). The presentation of Jeff as a shiftless layabout before the bombing, coupled with some searing moments where the couple argue about things unrelated to his disability, does a lot to remind the audience that disability can\u2019t be equated with saintliness. Becoming disabled is a life-altering event, but it never changes Jeff\u2019s inherent flaws; he was lazy and selfish before, and he\u2019s lazy and selfish after. It is only through being limited that Jeff discovers how to be a better boyfriend and person because of the infantilization he receives from others. Feeling limited and babied compels him to take initiative and change himself. <\/span><\/p>\n Stronger<\/i> is also worthy of praise for nailing little things that are often overlooked in disabled movies, often because disabled consultants aren\u2019t on-set. Instead of the bulky hospital wheelchair most movies are content to set a disabled character in, Jake has a custom chair. The audience also sees him utilize a transfer board to get out of his chair and into a car. He even transfers himself out of his chair onto the toilet and into the bathtub. These moments aren\u2019t profound, but after watching so many movies where disabled characters are hefted around like bags of flour, it\u2019s nice that someone did their homework. Even the simple thought of putting the camera low to the ground, on Gyllenhaal, as opposed to putting the camera on the able-bodied people around him implies an awareness of the disabled audience watching the film.<\/span><\/p>\n Stronger<\/i> isn\u2019t a flawless narrative; it still features a happy ending meant to inspire. But where other movies fail to do their homework, Green and company (including Bauman himself, who was involved) create a movie that acknowledges the real disabled people who are seeking correct representation on screen. It\u2019s a head nod, but that\u2019ll do for now.<\/span><\/p>\n
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