An autistic child’s future is up for grabs in ‘Love’
My initial reaction to James J. Christy’s semi-autobiographical “Love and Communication,” a soap-opery tale about the growing rift between parents of an autistic child, was one of disbelief. I had always assumed couples held a united front on matters concerning their offspring. But then I happened upon a 1962 episode of “Ben Casey” in which a very similar scenario was playing out between parents at odds over what’s best for their withdrawn and uncommunicative son.
The mother, played by Jean Hagen, was in denial, convinced it was a brain tumor that was the cause, while her husband, a doctor portrayed by Lee Marvin, thought the kid should be written off and institutionalized. Infidelity and estrangement ensue, just like what occurs in “Love and Communication.”
Thank God the archaic days of locking an autistic child in a mental hospital are in the rearview mirror. But marital divides are still very much in vogue, made abundantly clear in Christy’s flick, which is now streaming on Prime and Apple TV. Rob (Ryan Kennedy) is dead set on using any means necessary to get his little Sammy enrolled at Turning Point, the best alternative school in town. His wife, Megan (Briana Evigan, daughter of Greg from “My Two Dads”), to the contrary, is fully invested in Love and Communication (LAC), a less straightforward treatment based on emotional bonding over rote learning.
One thing the couple agrees upon is that a traditional public school is not the answer, as the state suggests. But it’s the by-the-books bureaucrats who have the final say on little Sammy’s future because whichever treatment Rob and Megan choose must first be OK’d by the state. Otherwise, Sammy’s parents must foot the entire bill.
As Christy presents it, the crisis Rob and Megan face is a nightmare overseen by lawyers, social workers and various other entities who think they know better when it comes to Sammy’s welfare. It’s enough to put a strain on any marriage, more so when the parties are as much at odds as Rob and Megan. They didn’t sign up for this madness. When they exchanged I do’s, they envisioned a white picket fence and a home full of bright, intelligent children who would head to college, marry and have families of their own.
Instead, they’ve been sucked down an administrative rabbit hole from which there is no escape. I would not wish it upon anyone, but in the back of my mind, I kept thinking how fortunate Rob and Megan are to be alive in the 21st century, when diagnostics and treatment of autism have grown exponentially since the days when “Ben Casey” ruled the airwaves. My parents had no such choices when it came to what was best for me.
Heck, I didn’t even know I was on the spectrum until I was 60. And I can’t help being a tad resentful of parents like Rob and Megan, who have opportunities, whereas my parents had none. And neither did I. I keep thinking how much easier my life might have been had I been diagnosed as a child and provided a learning environment more attuned to my needs. But that’s a discussion for another day.
As for the movie, I found Rob and Megan’s dilemma compelling, but I was put off by the sanctimonious spin Kennedy puts on Rob, a rude, arrogant jerk who always thinks he’s smarter than everyone else. It’s as if it never occurred to Kennedy to leave a little room for us to be sympathetic to Rob’s straits. He turns his character into an annoying bully who drops the F-bomb as freely as he drops his pants when under the magnetic influence of Julia (Ellen Adair), the slightly buttoned-up headmistress at the Turning Point school.
Evigan fares much better, rendering Megan highly empathetic, especially when she gets sucked up into a catfishing situation in which the scammer pretends to be LAC architect Dr. Silverman (Lev Gron). The irony, of course, is that it’s not just Sammy having communication issues. It’s everyone around him, with Rob and Megan at the forefront.
Give Christy credit for opening our eyes to the mountains of red tape parents of autistic children must cut through to ensure the best path for their child. It’s heartbreaking. I would have preferred he’d accomplished it with a more subtle approach. These are important issues that deserve a less tawdry setting. But perhaps being bold is what it takes to draw attention to the hoops parents must jump through to provide for their kids.
Christy does make clear that Rob and Megan are not alone, nor are they worse off than others, as we glean by watching a single Black woman (Zinarta) raising her adult ASD son (Joshua T. Crokett) without the cash and clout Rob and Megan possess. More of that and less of Rob behaving like a petulant child would have served the movie well. But kudos to Christy for tackling tough issues, by, as the slogan goes, enabling autism to speak.
Movie review
Love and Communication
Rated: Not rated
Cast: Briana Evigan, Ryan Kennedy, Ellen Adair, Lev Gorn and Ariel Schafer
Director: James J. Christy
Writer: James J. Christy
Runtime: 78 minutes
Where: Now streaming on Prime, Apple TV and other platforms
Grade: C +
