If you’re trying to find authentic representations of autism in mainstream cinema, good luck. Some projects nail autistic life in the confines of narrative movies, but they’re the exception rather than the norm. Typically, Hollywood loves caricatured versions of autistic people that don’t have much connection to how autistic folks actually behave. Titles like Music deliver such thoughtless and even downright offensive depictions of existing as an autistic person. Cinema can be used to vividly explore the endless variety of autistic experiences. Instead, most motion pictures settle for Sheldon Cooper clones and call it a day.
Documentaries about autistic people have not been impervious to this shortcoming either. Like narrative films, they too can fall prey to offensive depictions of autistic people. However, some documentaries provide fine glimpses into existing as an autistic individual. Even better, their very existence as documentaries means we’re seeing real autistic lives unfold on the screen. What a welcome contrast to the practice of neurotypical actors “approximating” autism for a fictional role. These kinds of titles may not be in abundance. However, quality documentaries about autistic people are well worth keeping around in any library.
Life, Animated
Arguably the most famous of these documentaries has to be the Oscar-nominated 2016 Roger Ross Williams feature Life, Animated. This production chronicles the life of Owen Suskind. He's an autistic man who finally started to communicate with the larger world through an unusual means: Disney films. Suskind loved these titles, whose stories helped him to develop friendships with others and greater understandings of the wider world. Life, Animated rolls the cameras on a very pivotal point in Suskind’s life, as he prepares to live on his own for the first time.
Life, Animated isn’t the most Earth-shattering documentary in its form. However, it’s a kind-hearted concoction benefiting from the assured direction of Williams. It also (thankfully) doesn’t talk down or condescend to Suskind. Dialogue-free animated segments even bring viewers directly into the mindset of Suskind. These sequences ask viewers to understand the unique visuals and pop culture touchstones Suskind uses to process the world. What a welcome contrast to forcing this man to mold himself to be more “palatable” to neurotypicals.
It's also a welcome sight to see an on-screen depiction of autistic people handling and holding down a job. Such a depiction comes towards the end of Life, Animated as Suskind begins working at a local Regal Cinemas location. There's a rampant infantilization of autistic folks in all of American society. This means autistic moviegoers don’t normally get to see themselves employed in any kind of mainstream pop culture. Life, Animated eschews that trend and other harmful pop culture standards.
Stream Life, Animated on Prime.
The Reason I Jump
There's also The Reason I Jump, a 2021 adaptation of a 2007 Naoki Higashida book of the same name. The primary area of focus here is nonverbal members of the autistic community. Director Jerry Rothwell weaves an expansive scope for The Reason I Jump that travels across multiple continents. With this grand scale, Rothwell effectively communicates how many different forms autistic people can take. There’s endless variety in this community, including in general personalities and interests. The Reason I Jump’s innately quiet atmosphere nonchalantly executes this concept rather than treating the ceaseless malleability of autistic people as some big revelation.
Especially insightful passages from Higashida's text make very memorable appearances throughout The Reason I Jump. Most notably, there's a moment where Higashida breaks down what it's like to be overcome with heightened emotions. He describes that process as "My body belongs to someone else and my brain is controlled by a faulty robot”. There’s a level of consciousness and introspection here that’s totally absent from typical cinematic depictions of autism. Caricatures of autistic folks see members of this community framed as permanent adolescents oblivious to their psychology. The Reason I Jump uses richly lived-in quotes from Higashida and footage of everyday autistic existence to refute that stereotype.
Stream The Reason I Jump on Prime.
Dina
Speaking of subversive, the 2017 documentary Dina also finds fascinating ways to upend conventional depictions of autism on-screen. Helmed by Dan Sickles and Antonio Santini, the feature captures the romance between a pair of autistic adults named Dina Buno and Scott Levin. Focusing on these two figures alone gives Dina an immediate distinctive quality compared to default portrayals of autism in cinema. Autism is typically portrayed exclusively through children or teenagers in cinema. Dina, meanwhile, focuses on a pair of autistic people approaching middle age. This motion picture nonchalantly portrays a concept (autistic adulthood) that many narrative films can’t even comprehend.
Sickles and Santini execute this feature with an observational form. This means Dina eschews characters talking to the camera or narration explaining “What is autism?”. The process of watching Dina is often akin to sitting at a dinner table, nail salon station, or park bench with Dina and Scott. They’re not “subjects” to be studied or othered. Dina simply nonchalantly chronicles their daily exploits, emotional ups and downs, and every other aspect of their nuanced lives. This lack of sensationalism is quite engaging. It also removes the condescension to both the viewer and autistic people that permeates other productions focusing on autistic lives.
The quiet subversiveness of Dina extends to depictions of Dina struggling to get Scott to understand her sexual needs. Autistic folks are rarely allowed to be sexual beings on-screen. This makes it incredibly welcoming that Dina makes room in its runtime to emphasize and normalize Dina’s sexual urges. These aspects of her personality aren’t “perverse”, they’re just another of the endless layers that make up who she is.
Stream Dina on Prime.
These three documentaries alone cover a lot of different ground in the realm of autistic lives. One can begin with the adolescent grappling with autistic experiences in The Way I Jump before switching over to teenage existence in Life, Animated, and finally concluding with middle-aged romance in Dina. Other acclaimed documentaries like Billy the Kid lend further texture to the diaspora of autistic representation in this cinematic domain. Granted, this realm of documentaries is still missing many key fields when it comes to autistic lives. Queer autistic people are sparse in this strain of documentaries, ditto autistic people of color. Meanwhile, it’d be great to see future documentaries about autistic folks realized by autistic filmmakers.
For now, though, we must explore the frustratingly small canon of documentaries about autistic people that do exist. Such titles contain some standout movies worth having in any library or academic collection. Autistic lives come in all shapes and sizes. The wildly varying tones of these documentaries reflect this truth often erased in mainstream cinema depictions of autism.
For more films about autism, check out our article Autism Awareness in Film!