Rating: PG-13
Runtime: 1 hour, 51 minutes
Director: Sían Heder
Quick Impressions:
My daughter has Covid-19 (mild case, knock on wood), so instead of going out, we’re using this week to catch up on potential Oscar contenders we haven’t seen yet on Apple TV. (Time permitting, we’ll check out other streaming platforms, too, but we always forget about Apple TV, and even though the plot’s been spoiled for me, I’m dying to see The Tragedy of Macbeth on Friday). We’ve been hearing people rave about CODA all year, and we finally watched it Tuesday night. I waited until now to finish my review because I wanted time to hear and digest the SAG nominations.
When they were announced, I discovered that I am a bit more emotionally invested in this year’s Oscar race than I led myself to believe. You have no idea how happy it made me that the person left out of Female Actor was not Jessica Chastain. There’s still time for her to be snubbed by the Academy, of course. Her performance in The Eyes of Tammy Faye is so good, though. She deserves a nomination based entirely on the performance’s merit. (I keep thinking that maybe I was too impressed with Tammy Faye because it was my first film back in the theater in over a year. We’ll probably re-watch that film this week, too, and we’ll see. (I want to show it to my daughter, and I’m very curious what my father will think.) Meanwhile, even though I have nothing against Kristen Stewart, it doesn’t bother me that she was left out because I find Spencer’s atmosphere (of sustained tension and anxiety-driven dread) to be its greatest strength, more impressive and remarkable than her performance.
I’m also happy for Andrew Garfield (and everyone else), and I sure hope the SAG awards actually…happen.
I’ll admit that I’m a little sad about the Golden Globes. They’ve always been so reliably entertaining, not just because the show is fun to watch (and looks pretty fun to attend) but because when they make crazy choices (which happens constantly), everyone loves to complain about their weird manipulation of categories, their obvious courting of stars, the fact that they seem corrupt on every level, the ridiculous lack of diversity within their tiny voting body. People have been complaining about this stuff for years, in the same way that sports fans grouse when their team once again does the awful, stupid thing their team is notorious for doing. But, on the other hand, if you really fall in love with a performance, and the Oscars fail to recognize it, you can always console yourself by saying, “Well at least s/he won the Golden Globe!” And it feels like a real consolation. You get to have your cake and eat it too by following the Golden Globes! (And if you’re a star, you get to eat it during the ceremony.) (Plus they usually happen at the Beverly Hilton, so even my not-very-into-any-of-this dad (who used to work for Hilton) gets somewhat engaged (talking about all the times he’s done stuff at the Beverly Hilton).
I just feel sad, not exactly for the Hollywood Foreign Press (who not only did everything they’re being criticized for but have been doing it for decades), but for the rest of us. The Golden Globes were fun. Why can’t anything be fun anymore? (I try to be optimistic, but this is not the greatest awards season. For one thing, it’s not happening. Nobody could watch the Golden Globes. Few people talked about them (for obvious reasons). The Critics Choice Awards have been postponed because of Covid. The Golden Globes tried to happen. They tried as hard as they could. They convinced Snoop Dogg to announce the nominees. They tweeted all those bizarre announcements about the winners. (I read an article (by Emma Roth at The Verge) speculating that the HFPA doesn’t have a Twitter Blue subscription (which would let them edit their tweets). And my immediate thought was, “Did they make their tweets crazy on purpose!? Were they paid by Twitter to do that to bring more attention to Twitter Blue?” So yes, I suppose, the HFPA is in trouble because even I obviously think so little of their integrity that I assume they’re taking random bribes in a year that the Golden Globes didn’t even happen! (Well, I mean, they still gave out awards.) (But will those awards shape the Oscar race like they have in the past?) (I have no idea!) (There’s a large overlap between their winners and the SAG nominees, though.)
But this a review of CODA, an incredibly deserving film, that’s now earned a SAG nomination for ensemble cast, as well as an individual nomination for Troy Kotsur (the film’s most conspicuous standout) for Best Supporting Actor.
The Good:
This is that rare, elusive thing, a feel-good Oscar movie. (It’s not nominated for any Oscars yet, of course, but I would expect it to be.)
I remember when I worked in the University Writing Center at UT. I always half-dreaded working with students on their personal statements for various applications. (But I also half-longed for it because it’s really fun to help someone discover what makes them special.) (These conflicting feelings left me in a constant state of tortured ambivalence, in case you’re wondering. And that’s probably when I do my best work.)
When you’re trying to help someone write about what makes them special to impress some institution, you always hope that they’re like Ruby Rossi (an Oscar-nomination worthy Emilia Jones), the Child of Deaf Adults who devotes most of her time to working in the family fishing business on her father’s boat, yet dreams of singing and has the passion and the pipes to inspire the choir director to believe she should have proper training and a college education. If you’re like me, you read this movie’s premise and think, “Well, that’s a wonderful story already. I’m already sold. And Marlee Matlin’s in it? And the deaf characters are played by deaf actors? And they don’t caption the sign language?” I was convinced the movie would be good before I watched a single scene. (I need to show my daughter Children of a Lesser God. When will we have time to watch all these movies!)
Not captioning the sign language is one of the best decisions writer/director Sian Heder makes. It’s similar to Spielberg and Kushner’s choice not to caption the Spanish (and thereby privilege the English) in the new West Side Story.
For one thing, there’s no need to caption the sign language. (When my daughter found out CODA is an adaptation of the French film La Famille Belier, she decided, “Then it would have been in two languages I don’t know!”) The actors sign demonstratively enough to convey the gist of practically every single signed conversation. (It helps that we know the context of these conversations and what to expect. Plus, Ruby does interpret conversations about fishing and fishing regulations for us. The conversations we’re expected to understand are the ones that take place among the family.)
My husband knows some sign language. I know none. (Unless you count learning to sign my name for extra credit when we read The Miracle Worker in ninth grade. I certainly would recommend against counting that.) Nevertheless, I’m pretty positive I understood exactly what Ruby’s dad (Troy Kotsur) was saying to Miles (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo). (It helps that it’s a common metaphor, and a go-to topic for embarrassing dads interrogating boyfriends.)
Also, the hearing audience feeling a bit like outsiders when we see the sign language with no captions mimics the experience of the deaf characters when they attempt to listen to Ruby sing. (What I honestly didn’t consider until this moment is that the deaf actors portraying those characters must have been having a similar experience making the movie.
I wish I knew more about music. I’m sure the title of this film intentionally plays the fact that the acronym for Child of Deaf Adults (CODA) and the Italian musical term coda are homophones. I would assume that one crucial scene near the end of the movie (the moment I was waiting and waiting for the entire time) is intended to be a late musical flourish most meaningfully performed by the Child of Deaf Adults. (I feel I could make more of this if I understood musical theory better, but that would get all spoilery, anyway, I guess.)
As far as film’s about being deaf go, I found this one much easier to watch than Sound of Metal. (That’s probably because going deaf is stressful but already being deaf is just another way of being.) (Of course, in the end, acceptance and embrace of a still-full life is kind of the point of Sound of Metal. Still, this is a less stressful watch. Maybe it’s partially that Joni Mitchell is just easier listening than metal and punk and hearing aids that don’t work well.) All of the characters are pretty likable (with one notable exception in my daughter’s opinion), and the performances are good.
I watched with my husband, my daughter, my dad, (and occasionally my reluctant little son who mostly just wanted it to be over). We all thought Troy Kotsur (playing Ruby’s scene-stealing, heart-warming father) was the conspicuous standout of the film. But Emilia Jones who plays Ruby is awfully captivating, too. She’s the right age to play the character, and that always helps. She brings the kind of authentic intensity often present as a teen to this passionate girl navigating if not unique circumstances, at least circumstances outside the world of most audience members. And, of course, Marlee Matlin is good. (I’m not sure why her character always looks surprised to me, but I will admit that as teenagers, my sister and I often evoked such reactions from our own mother.)
Best Scene:
From the moment that Mr. Villalobos (Eugenio Derbez) takes an interest in Ruby, there’s a scene we spend the entire movie expecting. When it finally arrives, and unfolds in just the way you would expect, the moment is so satisfying. (When she finally did what I was waiting and waiting for her to do, I was so thrilled that I got up and ran around in the room in excitement.) This isn’t a surprise. It’s the most expected thing that could possibly happen. (Not only is it easy to anticipate—it’s downright formulaic.) But it is so incredibly satisfying.
Best Scene Visually:
The concert at the high school shows how difficult it is for Ruby’s family to understand her passion for music and what an effort they make to show her how much they love her.
Best Action Sequence:
Would you call it action? I like the moment when Ruby and her father sit in the back of his truck together, and he finds a way to listen to her sing.
The Negatives:
My daughter absolutely could not stand Miles. She had no problem with the actor. She just didn’t like the way the character was written. “Oh no!” she wailed. “Why is he the love interest?”
(It’s probably because Ruby doesn’t know anyone else except the girl who is dating her brother. This isn’t the kind of movie that would take a dark turn when she started dating the music teacher.)
“He seems nice,” I protested because he does.
“He’s a stereotype!” my daughter raved, and then went on, as him, “‘Oh no! I’m the quiet boy! I play guitar and come from a hard family!’ I was enjoying this!”
“He doesn’t seem that bad to me,” I said (because from my point of view, what’s important to the story is simply that such a character exists).
“He is in EVERYTHING,” my daughter persisted. “All boys in teen movies and books are like this! He’s just a fantasy.”
She makes a solid point. From my point of view, however, the Miles serves his purpose. The story is not about how falling in love with Miles changes Ruby’s life. It’s about how discovering confidence in her musical ability helps Ruby begin to pull away from her family (in a healthy way), see herself as an individual, and take steps to begin a life that will bring fulfillment to her. (She’s becoming an adult like everyone else, but that journey looks different for all of us.) Miles isn’t really a catalyst in all of this self-discovery. Her openness to a relationship with him is just one of many products of the self-discovery.
“But look at her life!” my daughter said. “She’s such an interesting, fleshed out, multi-dimensional character, and he’s just a stereotype. He’s just nobody.”
“No,” I protested. “The story just isn’t focused on him. For all we know, he has a life that is every bit as fascinating and unique as Ruby’s. We’re just not looking at that right now.”
My daughters still considers Miles an inadequate love interest. (She has a point, though I do not totally agree with her.) She was also affronted by the relationship between Ruby’s brother Leo (Daniel Durant) and Ruby’s friend Gertie (Amy Forsyth). In her opinion, nobody in high school should be dating anyone older. (I’m not sure how old Ruby’s brother is.) My take on that relationship is that it’s there to give the most underdeveloped member of the Rossi Family (Leo) something to do. (It’s also something that makes Ruby realize that if her brother has his own life to a degree, then she can, too.)
For me, the only real negative of the movie (besides its formulaic feel-goodness which is adequately counterbalanced by the deaf cast and real insight the film offers into a non-hearing world) (to say nothing of the fascinating fishing boat culture!) was actually a positive thing. I just felt so impressed with Ruby for being able to work practically twenty-four hours a day, be only eighteen years old, and yet completely figure out how to set boundaries that will enable her to achieve her life goals (even though she loves her family, and they need her). That’s not really a flaw in the film, just in the flaw in teenaged me. Ruby is dauntingly mature for her age.
Overall:
I’m a bit distracted now, wondering if I have Covid-19. My nose is a little stuffy suddenly, and I feel alive with contagion. I’ve noticed a lot of people in our area are sick right now. (The buses aren’t even running.) If like us, you’re stuck inside the house this week, why not watch CODA on Apple TV. It’s not only a good film, but watching it will make you feel good, too. You don’t come across movies like that very often these days.