29/08/2013
Robert Lloyd
Los Angeles Times
The key to "Neurotypical," Adam Larsen's engaging film about autism from the inside, is in the title, a word that some "on the spectrum" use to describe people the world calls normal.
It's a word with a little attitude built into it: "That is so neurotypical," no one here actually says — though some of the autistic speakers do indeed regard the nonautistic with something of the amused, bemused pity with which Spock once beheld Kirk.
"I look at neurotypical life," one tells Larsen, "and I'm sorry, I really don't want to be one of you." Another, befuddled by the phenomenon of small talk: "I thought most of the rest of the world were idiots with no thoughts."
Premiering Monday on PBS as part of the documentary series "POV," its interest, from both sides, is anthropological, not clinical. There is some talk of medicine — parents weigh the pros and cons of putting their daughter on drugs, an autistic activist cautions against "chemical straitjackets."
But Larsen's interest is in how people with different world views get along. (Sometimes, as in one mixed neurotypical-autistic couple, who manage to stay delighted by their differences, very well; sometimes, as in another, who feels that his wife's recent Asperger's diagnosis gives her an unfair advantage in their relationship, less so.)
Shot largely in Virginia and North Carolina, because that's where the filmmaker is from, "Neurotypical" — which does not identify any of its subjects or speakers until the end — runs on the testimony of the autistic and those who live with them. There are no expert voices, except as experience equals expertise.
If Larsen's subjects don't present the full range of what for good reason is called a spectrum — only language-challenged 4-year-old Violet is incapable of reflecting upon her state of mind — we get a sense of varied experience, of humor and of desire: "It is possible," says one young autistic woman, "to be romantically involved with other people. Just because Temple Grandin doesn't do it doesn't mean it never happens."
Some reveal their strategies for coping in the rarely straightforward straight world, masquerading when necessary, as "pseudotypical," finding ways to put the rest of us at ease. These can be amusing; one repeats the last three words of his interlocutor's last sentence, to signal interest, and has developed a workable methodology of neurotypical flirting. ("But I really don't know what I'm doing," he admits.)
The point, which is never stated but the whole of Larsen's film embodies, is that we are all on some sort of spectrum, whatever our diagnoses or lack of them, each with a uniquely wired brain and an individual way of interpreting the world and coping with it, and each with a gift. ("I believe that oddness results in cultural content," says John, a fiddler with Asperger's.) However much we seem to speak the same language, we are all foreigners, struggling to communicate.
01/08/2013
Tom Roston
Doc Soup
In the cultural marketplace of ideas and views, we’re constantly exposed to buzzfeeds and blowhards. It’s so rare that the space is cleared for truly nuanced, thoughtful and unique perspectives. Documentaries tend to be a great way to fill that void.
And for anyone and everyone who was appalled at the news that the ABC show The View anointed Jenny McCarthy, the celebrity mother of an autistic boy, to be a co-host, there is a doc antidote: Neurotypical. Watching this POV documentary is a way of cleansing yourself of the artifice, bad faith, misdirection and plain stupidity that McCarthy conjures with her dead-wrong belief that vaccinations are the cause of autism.
It’s such a shame that the limited time that is spent discussing autism in the mainstream press often focuses on McCarthy, the latest being ABC’s stunning decision, earlier this month, to give such a public platform to a celebrity who has no scientific basis for her belief and has helped maintain a myth that not only endangers lives — because of exposure to diseases that vaccinations would have rendered harmless — but also seriously screws up the thinking of families who live with people with autism.
Now, I know I’m adding to the attention given to her, but I only do so as a way of shining a light on Neurotypical, because I think it’s relevant when you consider that the film is all about giving people with autism the space to express their views. We so rarely get to hear from them.
Watching the film, I was moved by how Wolf, an articulate guy who’s on the spectrum, talked of us neurotypicals (people without autism). And I was floored by how John described the existential import of the game of tag — a perspective that can only be rooted in his very different way of looking at the world.
Those are the viewpoints that should be heard, but, instead, it’s McCarthy who gets so much attention to spread her stunningly irresponsible message. Her co-hosting gig of The View starts in the fall, but I’m hoping that the public outcry protesting her selection could change ABC’s commitment to her.
You can just bet that McCarthy’s controversial status was well considered when ABC executives picked her. Whether or not her contract stipulates that she can or cannot talk about autism, I can assure you that either course will be used for ultimate impact. She’ll either make a well rehearsed and highly publicized announcement that she won’t be discussing the issue as an act of noble high-mindedness or they’ll put on a reasoned discussion relying on the good old American value that everyone has a right to their opinion.
But they don’t! Not fascists. Not bigots. Not, in my opinion, even climate-change deniers. And definitely not her. Take her off the show and let John and Wolf have a day to share their views. That’s what I’d like to see.
It’s no coincidence that POV — point of view — has aired Neurotypical. That’s because POV promotes points of view that are well considered and resonant. The View simply relies on viewpoints that hook eyeballs to the screen. But not all views should be trusted.
So, I hope you’ve seen Neurotypical. As I said in a post a year ago about the same subject (“A Neurotypical’s View on Autism Documentaries,” no less), I can’t claim to know this subject like those who live with it. But that doesn’t mean we neurotypicals can’t be open to their views.
29/07/2013
John Crook
Channel Serf
Filmmaker Adam Larsen — whose acclaimed one-hour documentary Neurotypical makes its national broadcast premiere tonight on the PBS series POV — grew up in western North Carolina, where his father has worked in the field of autism for 20 years. Given that upbringing, it’s not surprising that Larsen became strongly irritated by what he perceived to be a social double standard when it comes to persons living with autism.
“(There was) either a pervasive need to make people into a rendition of something ‘normal,’ or a tendency to sensationalize the extremes of autism,” he explains. “Documentaries at the time were either clinical, focused on cause and cure, or dramatic, looking at the ‘tragedy’ of autism or the brilliance of the savant.”
In contrast, Neurotypical — which takes its title from the term many autistics use to refer to so-called “normal” people — explores the experiences of people with this neurological condition largely from the perspective of the autistic persons themselves.
The exception is Violet, the high-energy 4-year-old who is going through a rough patch with her family as the film opens because her lagging communication skills make it difficult for her to express her wishes clearly, often triggering frustrated temper tantrums. The rest of her family generally copes well with Violet’s bad days, but her parents are confronting a thorny question faced by anyone with a special-needs child, namely, which part, if any, medication should play in the child’s treatment.
Shy 14-year-old Nicholas, meanwhile, is wrestling with the usual angst that any teenager must deal with, but his feelings of alienation are magnified by his autism, which leaves him feeling lonely and unable to relate to his classmates, especially girls. He’s still in the process of figuring out a skill set that will help him understand and interact with people whose neurological wiring is simply different from his own.
Nicholas certainly isn’t the only autistic person to find dating a daunting proposition, however. Some major components of human courtship, such as flirting, rely heavily on non-verbal cues that a person with autism may not pick up on. John, a long-haired adult whose casual conversational style doesn’t even hint at his Asperger’s diagnosis, reveals that he has come up with an easy trick to gauge whether his date is receptive to a goodnight kiss. He simply touches her hair and comments on its softness. If the woman pulls back from the gesture, he doesn’t go for the kiss.
But then John, like many in his neurological boat, adamantly refuses to view his autism as a disability. Instead, interacting with Neurotypicals becomes a kind of game. For example, he has developed a reputation among friends as an excellent listener simply by waiting until a speaker pauses in his conversation, then repeating the last three or four words the other person has said, to indicate fascination. “They’ll go on for hours, and they will talk about you as if you were the greatest thing next to the iPhone,” he says, laughing.
Katie, in her 20s, also laughs when recounting how she had to train herself to participate in small talk with others. When she was younger, she confesses, she thought she was surrounded by idiots who had nothing of interest to say because they seemed so interested in trivial things like the weather. Now that she understands what’s behind that social convention, she happily engages when someone wants to chat.
Wolf, a middle-aged autism advocate, admits that he is perfectly happy without being part of a physically intimate relationship because he is extremely sensitive when it comes to touching. Like Nicholas, however, high school senior Maddi admits she would love to experience a full-blown relationship, adding wryly, “Just because Temple Grandin doesn’t do it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”
Maddi also reflects on how she was excited to learn hear that Grey’s Anatomy was going to add an autistic character to the cast, until she noticed that the character seemed to exist mainly to teach the Neurotypicals around her how lucky they all where. What Maddi wanted to see on TV instead was an autistic character exploring a full range of human experiences, because that’s what she wants from her own life, too. Like so many of the people spotlighted in this engaging and surprisingly funny hour, Maddi doesn’t see herself as damaged or diminished, simply different.
29/07/2013
Rick Ellis
Open Air
The toughest thing about being a parent is the not knowing. No matter how much you prepare, no matter what plans you make, there are things that will happen that hit you out of the blue like a freight train. It’s scary enough to realize that you’re responsible for the well-being of a little human being. It’s even more harrowing to face that task when your child has a disorder they will carry with them their entire lives.
When I learned four years ago that my son Sam had Aspergers, I put on a brave face for my wife and family. My wife and I dived into learning everything we could, from medical options to therapy methods and training exercises. I never let my wife see me get upset and I always made sure that I was nothing but positive for my son. Because when you’re dealing with autism, it’s important to be both rational and optimistic. From the beginning we believed our son would end up living a full and reasonably normal life.
But there were times when I would sit on the floor next to his bed at night and cry. Not because I was sad for him or felt sorry for myself. Although like most parents with an autistic child I couldn’t help feeling that somehow it was my fault. But I cried because I loved my son and I knew that he was going to have some tough times. There were going to be some challenges that would test him and situations where he would feel alone and lost. He could have a full life, but there were going to be some tough days getting there. And at the end of the day, I couldn’t protect him from everything.
I thought about those days a lot after watching Adam Larsen’s Neurotypical, which will be available online for streaming beginning on July 30, 2013. The documentary is an exploration of autism primarily from the point of view of those with autism. Every person with autism occupies a slightly different space on the autism spectrum and those differences mean that each person’s story is different. Neurotypical takes a look at a few of those stories and the results are a documentary that is sad and joyful and hopeful and heartbreaking.
Viewers are introduced to 14-year-old Nicholas, who seems like a perfectly normal boy from the outside. But his autism leaves him struggling with feelings of alienation that threaten to derail his life. High school senior Maddi wants a relationship, even as she wrestles with the challenges of social behavior. “Just because Temple Grandin doesn’t do it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen,” she explains, referencing perhaps the world’s best known person with autism.
The film raises the question of what it means to be “normal” and whether autism is a sign of dysfunction or just another slice of understanding the fundamentals of being human. In fact, some of the people in the film have not just come to terms with their autism, they wouldn’t want to be any other way. Wolf is a middle-aged autism advocate that has an extreme sensitivity to touch and at one point admits that “I look at neurotypical life and I’m sorry, I really don’t want to be one of you.”
For the record, my son is now eight is spending more and more of his school day in a mainstream class. He’ll be okay, but like the people in this film, what form okay will take as he grows up is still a question without a clear answer. But what is certain is that whether or not you have a family member with autism, Neurotypical is a must-watch film.
29/07/2013
Kevin McDonough
Southcoast Today
Imagine yourself laughing while watching a film about autism. While so many discussions of the disorder focus on heartache, "Neurotypical," a documentary on "POV" (10 on PBS, TV-PG, check local listings), discusses life from the point of view of autistic people. And their take on normal, or "neurotypical," society is quite remarkable, revealing and even funny.
Now middle-aged, Wolf works in information technology and treasures his differences from the neurotypical. He acknowledges that his family's support was essential for him to learn the tricks to adapt to a society where people can read and interpret nonverbal cues and emotional smoke signals that remain beyond his comprehension.
Maddi offers a typically sassy high schooler's view of life with autism. She "wanted to barf" when she heard that "Grey's Anatomy" has chosen to introduce a character with Asperger's syndrome. (I'd love to hear her take on "The Bridge.") She complains that she spent the better part of her childhood being trained to make eye contact with her peers only to enter middle school, where everybody looks at the floor. She says she wants a boyfriend, joking, "Just because (autism advocate) Temple Grandin doesn't do it, doesn't mean it doesn't happen."
We meet several adults who were only diagnosed well into midlife. Many speak about the gimmicks and strategies they've developed to comprehend other people and their need for social and physical intimacy.
One man describes a system for ingratiating himself with boring conversationalists that seems worthy of a self-help seminar. A college-aged girl was convinced that every stranger she met was an idiot, until her father explained to her that meaningless chitchat about the weather or having a nice day was a social lubricant for "normal people" and made them feel happy. The banality of this practice still mystified her, but at least she understood it.
A middle-aged musician and philosopher describes a playground game of tag from an autistic child's perspective in a tangential riff worthy of a standup comedian. His outsider's view of this most innocent form of play is a wonderful example of this film's poignancy and humor. Told by his teacher to go with the other kids and "frolic," he reflected that he just didn't have that gene.