CODA (Child Of Deaf Adults) tells the story of Ruby Rossi, the hearing child of two deaf parents and a deaf brother. The family lives in a coastal town in Massachusetts where they run a fishing business. Ruby’s life is presented as a cycle of working on the boat, attending school and helping her family with menial tasks throughout the day. A singer at heart, the girl signs up for the school choir – a move that transforms her life into technicolour, while simultaneously thrusting her into conflict with her deaf family, whose needs are at odds with her dream of pursuing music.
Directed by Sian Heder, the film takes a conventional three act structure. The opening act is the most illuminating of them – as Heder and cinematographer Paula Huidobro give us a fly on the wall perspective of what it’s like to live with a deaf family. ASL (American Sign Language) dominates the many scenes as the family communicate with a visceral energy that the English language can’t live up to. Rightly or otherwise, their disability creates some brilliant slapstick comedy – with signs being easily misinterpreted and lines such as ‘Tinder is something we can all do as a family’ – owing to its visual, non-audio nature.
The performances on display are a highlight – and credit should be given for casting deaf actors in the deaf roles – a choice that contributes to the authenticity of the story told on screen. Troy Kotsur (Frank) as the father, stands out – playing a salt of the earth fisherman and a chain-smoker, with dry sense of humour who loves his family dearly. Marlee Matlin (Jackie), plays up the delusional housewife role, while Daniel Durant (Leo), demonstrates a wicked temper, and carries around with him an older sibling jealousy. An honourable mention goes to Eugenio Derbez (Bernardo) for his performance of the disgruntled music teacher, seemingly resuscitated back to life after his time spent working with Ruby.
However, any success this film enjoys is going to be anchored in Emilia Jones’ excellent and endearing performance of Ruby. Her character is a jack of all trades, the glue that holds the family together, and is someone you’re rooting for from start to finish. Given that she’s a singer, music is a staple of the film. Composer Marius de Vries injects so much warmth and energy into this film with this soulful soundtrack that you’ll come away from this movie humming the words of Etta James, Marvin Gaye and many others long after the credits have rolled.
My reservations with this film begin with the onset of Act 2. The opening act introduces us to these characters and the unorthodox lives they live – something that really draws the viewer in as a clever and distinctive piece of filmmaking. Unfortunately, the second act moves into clichéd territory – where the talented kid from a humble background has a dream and chance to make it big – a story that has been told so many times on screen before. By the 40 minute mark, you get a sense of how this film is going to end – and so you’re left a little dissatisfied, knowing that regardless of the stakes presented, everything is going to work itself out in the way it normally does in the movies.
What makes the early scenes memorable and interesting is the unfiltered, gritty and organic portrait of this family that you get. Life, especially when living with a disability, is hard, complicated and it’s riddled with daily challenges and discrimination at every corner. It’s also difficult for Ruby who carries the burden of caring for her family while navigating the pitfalls of adolescence. Once the third act comes along, the film becomes sort of whimsical and schmaltzy as the director and producers take a few liberties with the subject matter. However, a scene close to the end, where Ruby and her father are sitting on the truck bed, is a standout moment which helps to redeem the film, somewhat.
This may just be a personal qualm, but I like to decide how a film makes me feel. Inevitably, as viewers, we map our personal experiences onto the movies that we watch with the result being that we experience our own unique, emotional reactions to the same things. My problem with CODA, is that it is a ‘feel good’ film that forces you to feel good whether you want to or not. You can see the strings being pulled from behind the curtain, so that when the tearjerker scene comes on, you cry, and when the protagonist achieves her dream, you rejoice, and so there’s a sort of over-manufactured and clinical feeling to this film, which dampens the original authenticity inherent in the story of this family.
Having said that, my overall impression is a positive one. There’s some interesting thematic threads here – namely about community and what it means to belong to one. You also get a commentary on communication and how conventional language often fails us. We see that deaf people may not speak, but they definitely have something to say. Music, which is gloriously on show here, serves as a universal language that can tear down the walls between us and unite people together. Our own Ferdia Walsh-Peelo (Miles), plays the love interest for Ruby, and while a little underdeveloped as a character, his presence in the film is still noteworthy. The crescendo is scored by that Joni Mitchell song we all know. As a hearing person, the film gave me new insight into the deaf community – and the chance to see life from both sides, now. And for that, I’m grateful I got to see this film
CODA is currently streaming on Apple TV+ and is available to watch in select theatres.
3.5/5