On Thursday, I went to see the documentary "Rolling". It was being presented by the Women's Studies department in collaboration with a group called Women in Film and Video New England as part of a series called, "Chicks Make Flicks". Most of the films are more obviously feminist in nature; I suppose this one was chosen because the filmmaker is a woman, and because it's a disabled issues film, so it fits in with the theme of social justice.
I'd really been looking forward to it. Having just seen "Murderball" a few weeks ago, I was eager to see another film that would expose the general public to disabled issues - in this case, specifically the issues of life in a wheelchair. Unfortunately, I was seriously disappointed. "Rolling" is, in my opinion, a step backwards for awareness.
The premise is relatively simple: three wheelchair users were each given a camera for 18 months, and told to "film their lives". At the end of 18 months, they had come up with somewhere around 200 hours of footage, which was then edited into this documentary. They also voiced-over parts of the film.
The first problem begins with the selection of the subjects. One of the subjects, Galen, had a pretty typical story - he became a C5 quad after a diving accident in his late teens. No problems there. The other two subjects, Viki and Ernie, had MS and ALS, respectively. Their health was in very serious condition, as you might expect, and as such, I do not believe this was a representative sample of the disabled community.
Granted, my disability is much less serious than Viki's and Ernie's. However, at least in the case of Viki, I wonder if perhaps some of this is a generational difference. Regardless, I have experienced many of the moments portrayed in the film. I've dealt with my wheelchair breaking and leaving me stranded; with accessible public transportation that is consistently late or unavailable; with pain that won't respond to Valium, morphine, vicodin, or anything else (thank goodness that only lasted a few weeks; with being locked out of a building, or in an empty room, and being unable to call for help due to a dead cellular spot; with medical facilities that don't have basic adaptations (like, ffs, an orthopaedic rehab clinic should have buttons on the doors); with having to use a bedpan or a diaper rather than the toilet for a long period of time; with insurance that classifies basic necessities (a wheelchair, hearing aids, ankle braces) as "luxuries" and so covers only part of those costs, if at all; and so on. And I have friends in the disabled community who run the whole spectrum. Thus, I feel I am qualified to say that these were not, IMHO, representative subjects.
Second was the tone. While there were "happy moments" in the film, they seemed to be portrayed as brief spots of light in a bleak life. There was very little shown, I felt, of a balanced life: interaction with others was largely limited to family and to healthcare professionals (who tended to play the role of yet another obstacle for Galen, Viki, and Ernie). Galen had the most positive depiction here, I think, as it was shown that he had a fulltime job, and was married (and married after his accident, thank you very much - I was glad to see that much, although I would've liked that to be pointed out a bit more forcefully).
Finally, the medical issues that these people had were a huge part of the documentary. While it's true that medical care is a big part of being disabled, I believe that the choice of subjects and the editing that was done blew it way out of proportion. One moment in particular that upset me was in the context of Galen's issues with shoulder pain (not uncommon in people who use manual wheelchairs). The issue was, I thought, depicted well - until he discussed his options. As he stated, his options were essentially shoulder surgery or an electric wheelchair, "either of which would make me lose the independence I've had all these years". I feel that the presentation of this footage cast a negative stigma on electric wheelchairs, and in particular, on the independence of those of us who use them. While I understand where he's coming from, as far as convenience (hell of a lot easier to transport a manual chair), physical condition (manual makes it easier to keep in shape), and body image (yes, the wheelchair is an extension of one's body, and manuals tend to be seen as a sign of independence and strength), I don't know that the general public is going to (a) understand all the context and (b) think about all this in the short time that the issue is presented.
I think "Rolling" pathologizes disability, and it is (to me at least) a great example of the problem with the medical model (as opposed to the social model) of disability as well as the "hero crip" image. The fact that the filmmaker is an MD probably has something to do with it - doctors have historically had a lot invested in pathologizing disability, and they can be (not all are) quite condescending, controlling, and just plain dense (sorry, Mingee. But this is one of the traps that you can fall into). I asked about this during the Q&A afterwards with the filmmaker, and got a relatively empty answer, the most interesting part of which was her statement that she was critical of "Murderball". While I agree that it depicts a relatively narrow part of disability, I believe it was much more honest about doing so. Also, I think the positive attitudes depicted in the film are something we desperately need society to pick up on, as opposed to the fatalism in "Rolling". "Rolling" is specifically correct but generally false; "Murderball" is specifically false but generally correct.
Some of the statements in reviews I read really ticked me off, too. As in one that called Viki "brave" for leaving the camera on "as darkness fell" when she was stranded just outside her house in a broken wheelchair. How is leaving the camera on brave? How is it brave to simply deal with what you're given? It's not like there's a choice in all of this. And how is it brave to have an emotional breakdown on camera? Not that it was unjustified; that situation does suck big time. But "bravery"? Nah. Reminds me of when I've been in the hospital after surgery, and been told by visitors that I'm "an inspiration" or "being brave" - no! I simply had no choice but to have the surgery, and I'm reacting just like you would expect anyone to. Once the surgery is over, and you're on strong painkillers, what's the big deal (this is pre-rehab, of course - rehab post-surgery can require a lot of work, which could, I guess, be approached in a "brave" way).
"Rolling" seems to have a lot of praise. I haven't seen any specific praise of it by disabled groups, nor have I seen any condemnation of it. I wonder if the general praise of it reflects an overreaction on my part, or a reaction of the kind that the disabled community doesn't need: one of pity, of "oh, how inspiring". We're already objects of pity and "inspiration", and we should be trying to fight against that notion, even as we point out the ways in which society could be changed to make life easier for the disabled. I don't have a lot of objectivity here; it's very close to home, and the way I am perceived as a disabled person is very high stakes for me. I also have to worry about whether I'm understanding things better because I can put them in context, as opposed to underestimating the able-bodied audience. But I don't think this film is a good thing for the disabled community, and the fact that the filmmaker won a MacArthur grant (and the documentary won so many awards) surprises me.
