Review: The Reason I Jump (2020)

 

99/100

Let me tell you the reason I jump.

When I moved to a new school to begin my secondary education, it felt like immigrating from Earth to Mars. Leaving something that you've been acclimated to, and that feels like your climate, to a whole new environment with barren landscapes and bringing scarce supplies with you. Some autistic people, after all, struggle with change. Sometimes it's hard for us to process something that we experience for the first time. It felt like a battle between the proton and electron in our brains, and as that battle intensifies, we explode without notice.

Initially, everyone went, The hell? Perhaps not in a demeaning way, and I don't want to assume such, but I felt extremely alien to them. Being in Indonesia, a country where neurological and mental disorders are almost unheard of, I can empathize with them, but it was undeniably a struggle to blend in. Eventually, I found friends and they helped me with learning the social cues in this new school, without them even knowing I am autistic, without even me knowing I was autistic at the time. I begin to slowly engage with the crowd. This is not to say that my autism was quote-unquote "cured"-- surprise, people, no such thing as an Autismethanol-- but where it used to be "I am a Linux in a world designed for Windows", it's now "I am a Linux that the Windows-es learned to understand."

You can't believe it when I say, it was electric to see myself getting my first friends. Literally, they meant the world to me. This is a whole new kind of new. It's a kind of new that you wished for a long time without even knowing. It's the rose amid the expanse of grass, it's the Sun behind the clouds. That, to me, brings immense joy. A joy that may be overwhelming to me, but on a positive note. I may not do it all the time, but there are times when I jump thinking about it. It is a release of joy, or of any emotion, really.

In the documentary The Reason I Jump, for over 80 minutes it felt like I was depicted jumping there. And it felt like I am being understood. Just for that alone, it is a timeless masterpiece.

I'm currently in the making of a poetic documentary about my autism, and considering the immense catalogue of autism films with terrible representation, there really is a drought for good material. However, I am forever grateful for director Jerry Rothwell. Over these few months of production, The Reason I Jump is something that I always go back to. This really is the pinnacle of arthouse accessibility. Not only does it feature actual autistic people and is a good portrayal, but it features everything from scientific education, a visual guide for autism-friendly screenings, and most of all, a sense of consciousness.

Speaking of science: many people have commented on the seeming glorification of the pseudoscientific facilitated communication in the film, but this is not true: the film doesn't stem from it at all, and the scenes involving letter board communications do not fulfill the pseudoscientific criteria that the communicator must be dependent on the facilitator to indicate what they want to say; the people are seen pointing the letters on their own, and the facilitator accurately transcribes it. Just a little clarification, to end this unjust scandal. Anyways.

David Mitchell, the co-translator for the English version of the eponymous book by non-verbal autistic Naoki Higashida, said in the film: "The book felt like an envoy from another world, whose cultures and ideas we don't understand." That sentence obviously is a neurotypical testimony (which is not bad at all!), however, for me, it speaks differently. The film felt like an envoy from another world, whose cultures and ideas I can connect with. This is a film where the experimental genre is profound in a different way: every frame is like a painting of the mind, and when my brain "scans" it, it matches, and I felt astounded. Finally, autistic people can say, "I can see myself in this film." Whether you are non-verbal or not, The Reason I Jump may connect you in some way that you've never seen in cinema.

In such films, the beauty lies in its themes, with the cinematography (an astounding example of evocative cinema) and audio (really immersive with the Dolby Atmos binaural mix) physicalizing those themes. For context: the film features a reenactment of Higashida's childhood memories with voiceovers excerpting the book, and the film connects those excerpts with the lives of several non-verbal autistics, all of whom have unique and poignant stories, showing how all autistics need is loving support from their community. One of the ways these peeps' caregivers provide that appropriate support is by reading Higashida's book. On paper, it sounds off, but in practice, it is transcendental and heartful. This doesn't mean the film won't be appealing to neurotypicals, cause how could it have won awards? By blending the surreal nature of the autistic mind and the realistic nature of the eye, Rothwell has made this collection of first-person testimonies a powerful message picture to the neurotypicals, and an endearing poem to autistics.

Moreover, perhaps The Reason I Jump can be a tutorial for artists who want to try to represent the neurodivergent community, something we've been advocating for throughout the years, despite receiving such insults as Music (2021), which I imagined sparked a loud "OOF" in the Reason I Jump crew group. In the documentary, charm meets seriousness, but Rothwell (or the other crew members) never really tried too hard to meet that criterion, because they did sufficient research (shown through the comprehensiveness of their website) and have understood how to make effective films. After an autistic's mother says that she has improved her treatment of her autistic teen, the teen (who is a real-life artist) is seen reflecting on her works, culminating in a vivid artistic gallery. Just that alone shows me how great the editing was. The film is full of hearts and minds, taking upon a subject that seems hard to represent, and then just filling in those gaps with these relatable, fragile, beautiful moments.

This is not to say that The Reason I Jump is a universal representation of autism. As a spectrum, there can be no media that can portray all of autism. It's also not to say that the film is without its downs: I certainly lament the quick ending. However, for all its flaws, the film has achieved something other filmmakers failed to do: represent the community with a note of understanding. It reinforces the idea of "Nothing about us, without us." It also gives hope that autism can be seen in a more accurate light in cinema, for all the good that it has seen throughout its history. But at its core, it is a really good contemporary classic, and I can imagine many autistics remembering every frame of it for a long, long time.

To watch The Reason I Jump, consult its website.