Every year, you come across films that may not be entirely original or unique, whether in their storylines or the approach they take to the process of narrative or visual construction, but yet still remain rather endearing, even if they’re not entirely brilliant. CODA is one such film, with the story of a young woman who is the only hearing member of a deaf family, being a charming if not inconsequential little comedy that compensates for some heavy-handed emotions with a genuinely sweet disposition that makes it quite special on its own terms. The directorial debut of the promising Sian Heder, who tells a remarkably moving story, CODA is too lovable to entirely dismiss, even when it is at its most overwrought, which is unfortunately a common tendency in these quaint independent dramas that don’t always manage to get the tone or intention entirely right. By no means a major work, but rather one that exists as an enjoyable diversion from reality, Heder has made a truly lovable film that never takes itself too seriously, but does give the appropriate respect to a community that hasn’t often been given such a platform to have their stories told. Intention is what grounds CODA and makes it so wonderful, to the point where we can easily forgive some of its more saccharine aspects in favour of focusing solely on the components that indicate that this is a film driven by heartfulness and empathy more than anything else – and like any small-scale film about the human condition, we need to adjust our expectations so that they’re high enough for us to invest in this story, but not too inflated that we’re disappointed when it becomes a bit too predictable at times.

CODA is a work of undeniable compassion – the reverence the director had for this material was clear from the first moment, where she was aiming to clearly give a platform to those that had not been afforded such a space as commonly as others. The deaf community deserves to have their stories told, especially those that aren’t focused solely on the challenges of being disabled, but rather the impact having a disability has on everyday life. CODA, for all its small flaws, is never condescending, neither to the characters or the audience, which is a welcome departure from films that tend to trivialize disability as some insurmountable obstacle that only the most resilient and resourceful can overcome. This is a film about affording equal time and effort to everyone, with the story centring on celebrating the differences that make everyone unique, rather than exposing the disparity that exists in between the hearing and deaf community, and implying that those with the disability need to aim to fit in. Undeniably, CODA can be quite clumsy with these discussions at times – Heder has slight trouble reconciling the conversation around the fierce independence sought by the deaf characters, and the idea that the world needs to make itself more accessible to those with a disability. However, the film’s heart is absolutely in the right place, and it overcomes some of its more heavy-handed commentary by alternating between very sweet and charming slice-of-life scenarios that showcase the unique dynamic that exists in a family of mixed abilities, and how their plight isn’t something to be pitied, but rather respected and understood.

The film thrives on the performances given by its cast, which is almost uniformly great. Marlee Matlin, arguably one of the most important voices in deaf activism (and a cinematic pioneer in her own right, helping bring deaf stories to the screen consistently throughout her career), is central to the film, playing the role of the mother of a family of mostly deaf people, while Troy Katsur, another well-known actor in the deaf community, plays the patriarch. They are the heart and soul of the film, playing supporting roles that both exist to bolster the main performance, while still leaving an impression, garnered from their own clear dedication to having this story told in a way that is as authentic as possible. However, as tremendous as these veterans may be, the film really relies on the character of Ruby, who serves as our surrogate, the person whose journey we follow. She is a “CODA” (Child of Deaf Adults), who is forced to navigate a world she doesn’t quite understand – despite being hearing, her life is defined by deafness, her entire existence being filtered through being the communicatory channel between her family and the outside world. Emilia Jones is terrific in the part, and stakes her claim as one of the most gifted young actresses working today – for as much as the film can be quite intense in its emotional content, none of the actors go too far in their characterization, always making sure that they develop their characters along more authentic lines. The film has its shortcomings, but the cast grounds it and makes it appear a lot more genuine than we’d expect – and while Matlin and Katsur are impactful, it is Jones who leaves the most indelible impression, driving the film forward and ensuring that she captures all the nuances of a character in her situation.

CODA is a film that requires us to be willing to surrender to the specific constraints of a story that isn’t always particularly interested in details. The film glosses over a number of themes that would’ve made for a more convincing analysis of the lives of these characters, all for the sake of convenience, and because the story itself isn’t too concerned with going too in-depth beyond the surface-level portrayal each one of the central figures receives. However, this doesn’t distract from the fact that it all works to highlight the immense humanity that resides at the heart of the story, which was never going to be the definitive text on the experiences of the deaf community and those surrounding them. The sooner we can abandon the belief that every film focused on disability needs to make profound statements on every aspect of those living with various challenges, the sooner we can see the extent to which the film is actually quite touching, and how even at its most emotionally intense, there is something quite charming about the way Heder tackles these challenging themes. The film often struggles to find a clear and consistent tone, and while it is structured as a very simple comedy, the moments of intense drama can sometimes feel out of place, whether it be the specific position in which they occur, or purely their arbitrary arrival and subsequent departure – but these are all forgivable under the film’s status as a relatively small-scale independent production, where these rougher edges only add to the unique style of the film, and the conversations that are facilitated as a result.

Ultimately, the most pertinent criticisms have been written by those within the community themselves, or those who at least have more experience than me in assessing the validity of the content of such a film – so rather than trying to convince you to the merits and shortcomings of this film’s approach to representation myself based on my own experience, its better to promote the seeking out of the many trusted voices with firsthand knowledge on this subject, since there have been insightful and interesting pieces written on both sides of the spectrum when it comes to unpacking this film and its general message. However, from a purely objective point of view, this film is relatively fine, especially in how it approaches the many themes at the heart of the story. Representation is something contemporary art is constantly trying to promote, with more unique perspectives being garnered through having the experiences of a much wider group of people, who are afforded the chance to have their stories told. CODA may not be the final word on any of these issues, but it at least starts the conversation and opens the door for further discourse that will hopefully continue to be facilitated by those who embrace the fact that there are still a multitude of stories to be told, and people willing to tell them, so as much as it is convenient to criticize a film like CODA for its occasionally clumsy outlook, it’s more helpful to just see it as an essential stepping stone to wider representation in the future.