Representation, or the lack thereof, always been an important part of films, whether in front of or behind the camera. Cinema is storytelling, and when you don’t have different perspectives and diverse voices telling the stories, the result becomes either dull or inauthentic. Though we are thankfully decades beyond the previously commonplace blackface characters in Hollywood, whitewashing is still an all too frequent occurrence. Even beyond race, the underrepresentation appears in different forms – sexual orientation, gender, and ability.
In recent years, there has been more onscreen Deaf representation in major motion pictures like A Quiet Place and Sound of Metal, as Hollywood is starting to understand the money being left on the table. This year’s CODA, directed by Sian Heder, goes a step further – a majority of the main cast is deaf, and Deaf culture takes center stage in this film (which is also the first film ever to hard code subtitles). The protagonist is Ruby Rossi (Emilia Jones), a teenager who is not herself deaf but is the only hearing member of her family: her father (Troy Kotsur), her mother (Marlee Matlin), and her brother (Daniel Durant) are all hearing impaired. Growing up, Ruby has struggled her whole life as an outsider at school and a kid with an outsized responsibility for her family, but she loves singing, something her family doesn’t understand.
CODA is a sweet coming-of-age film with a couple of unusual layers. Most teenager films deal with tension in the family and growing pains, but typically either the parents or the kids (or sometimes both) seem unreasonable or unsympathetic. Here, we find ourselves rooting for both sides. The conflicts come not from bad choices or avoidable situations but rather the reality of Ruby feeling wanting to help and be there for her family, but also realizing that would mean letting go of her dreams – as much as they love each other, their differences cause a seemingly uncrossable chasm.
The Rossis are a working class, multi-generational fishing family in Massachusetts forced to deal with increasing fishing quotas and dwindling profit margins. Their struggles to get by only exacerbate Ruby’s sense of obligation towards helping them, but at the same time her choir teacher discovers her singing talent and encourages her to pursue her music dreams. Music is a dominant theme in CODA, and it works not only because the songs are memorable and help to lift the mood of the film whenever needed, but because the music becomes the primary expression of Ruby’s emotions that she is unable to communicate in any other way.
The movie is primarily powered by the phenomenal acting. Emilia Jones shines – she is funny, empathetic, and immensely relatable. In order to prepare for the role, Jones had to learn an American accent, ASL, and also took singing lessons (it doesn’t hurt that she has an exceptional voice). She masters each one of those skills and is surely an actor to watch in the future. The Rossi parents are just as good, if not better. Matlin is one of the most famous hearing-impaired actors and she is rock-solid, but Kotsur may be the real winner of this movie – he is hilarious, charismatic, and he authors some of the most powerful moments in the film.
The rest of the supporting cast also largely feel fleshed out and believable. Ruby and her best friend, for example, have a realistic, fun relationship that leaves you wanting to see more. There are some weak links, like Ruby’s boy crush Miles, who is a mediocre singer and a wooden actor, and the movie slows down every time it turns to Ruby’s love life. Her music teacher, Mr. V, is sometimes cartoonish and over the top in a way that makes you feel like you’re watching a different movie, or maybe an episode of Glee.
Generally, the movie’s strengths are when it focuses on the family, and their little joys and interactions. Both individually and collectively, the Rossis are amazing – super funny in terms of situational humor and also their own sense of humor. The family dynamics feel so honest and alive that the viewer becomes a part of it too. Like the best families, the arcs and relationships can get messy at times as you try to untangle the deep-rooted webs of independence, dependence and interdependence. Sometimes, you realize, you really don’t know life at all.
As you might imagine, the sound design is well crafted – an especially important note to hit for this kind of film. Although it doesn’t dip into the “dead silence” well as much as Sound of Metal, when Heder does go there, it is indelibly effective. In general, the third act (and the ending) is so incredibly satisfying. It’s always hard to find a film that can make you both laugh and cry, and CODA does that (or at least threatens to) on multiple occasions. Heder has made a film with wide appeal that is heartfelt, funny, and uplifting, and is about Deafness, music, chasing your dreams, and most of all family. At the Sundance Film Festival this year, CODA broke the acquisition record because it is precisely the timely, comforting cinematic group hug that we all need in 2021.
