Code of the Freaks

Just about everyone in the disability community knows that the quickest way to an Oscar is to play a disabled character. Even my hairdresser observed this just the other day as we were discussing Joaquin Phoenix’s recent win for Joker. While the Academy and Hollywood audiences may find these movies and their lead actors worthy of the highest artistic honors, many in the disability community feel they can tell more accurate stories about how society, media and government view and treat disabled people—and for them, these stories are generally not so celebratory.

These are the stories we capture in Code of the Freaks. More than a decade in the making, the film grew out of writer-producer Susan Nussbaum’s desire to spark a conversation in the disability community about the portrayal of disabled characters in Hollywood movies. Years before, as a young woman, Susan became disabled suddenly as the result of an accident. At the time, she knew nothing about disability and had no models except those she’d seen in the movies, like Quasimodo, Baby Jane, and Tiny Tim. Fortunately, Susan soon discovered the disability rights movement and met real disabled people. Yet she continued to witness and experience the harmful effects of media representation of disability. When together we made a series of short documentaries with disabled girls, I came to understand how dual consciousness – the conflict between how others saw them and how they saw themselves –affected their self-image.

To launch our conversation, the group that was to become the Code of the Freaks’ creative team hosted a salon series in community settings around Chicago, presenting montages of Hollywood clips featuring disabled characters organized in themes – blind men and women, magical creatures, the kill or cure option – and filmed the discussions. The impassioned reactions of our audiences encouraged us to develop this film.

We wanted to make a movie that would give viewers tools to better understand what they’re watching. We called upon disabled artists, writers, scholars and activists to confront the dilemma of the disabled body onscreen, and present real-life alternatives to the stock characters and tired plots that exoticize, idealize, ridicule or demonize disabled characters.

Movies have the power to shape the beliefs and behaviors of non-disabled people toward people with disabilities, and of disabled people toward themselves. Movies build astonishing fictional worlds where they hold us captive on two-hour journeys, worming their way into our psyches. They shape our expectations in ways we’re not always aware of – especially in cases where the films provide our only references for unfamiliar experiences. We love movies and it’s a powerful love that can be mesmerizing. But the consequences can be toxic.