‘Deaf President Now!’ Review: Spirited Doc Communicates Why a Turning Point for Deaf Rights Still Matters

by

The phrase “Deaf President Now!” signifies the second week of March 1988, specifically. During this time, students at Gallaudet University in Washington D.C., staged a protest against the board’s decision to appoint a hearing individual as the school’s leader. Despite the passage of time, the spirit of activism depicted remains applicable to contemporary identity-based struggles. For 124 years prior, the institution had been governed under ableist beliefs, viewing deaf and hard-of-hearing individuals as requiring assistance from condescending outsiders. However, within these seven days, the students seized control, demonstrating to their elders – and anyone who would listen – that they should not be underestimated.

Nyle DiMarco, a deaf actor-advocate, partners with director Davis Guggenheim of “An Inconvenient Truth” fame, to create a compelling non-fiction narrative. This story is as inspiring as any scripted film, bringing together the four alumni of Gallaudet University who spearheaded the movement, allowing them to recount events in their own words – words filled with passion, skillfully interpreted and spoken by unseen actors. The production smartly employs and occasionally omits sound, acknowledging that the Deaf community will perceive it differently, sometimes giving them an edge (such as a muted TV interview only comprehensible to lip readers).

The movie debuted at Sundance, a festival that welcomes the deaf community and also premiered another new documentary titled “Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore.” Interestingly, despite Marlee Matlin playing a significant role in an important scene depicted in “Deaf President Now!” (where she actually appeared with Gallaudet student body president Greg Hlibok on the “Nightline” episode that sparked nationwide attention), she is curiously absent from this narrative.

Rather than concentrating on the overall group, the narrative zeroes in on the four key figures — Hlibok, Jerry Covell, Bridgetta Bourne-Firl, and Tim Rarus — who spearheaded the movement, following the revelation on a Sunday evening that Elisabeth Zinser was chosen by the board of trustees from among three candidates (two of whom were deaf men). It was Covell, a tall, captivating young man, who stirred the crowd that had congregated near the university’s main entrance to learn about the board’s decision, which was printed on leaflets and circulated among them.

The filmmakers adopt an approach similar to Errol Morris in their recreations, amplifying key moments with intense visuals – blinking lights, thumping drums, a student ripping open a stack of flyers without a face – to evoke the thrill of that night from a deaf perspective. Enhanced by post-production techniques, the crowd’s noise resonates in this scene, as a crescendo swells among the deaf attendees. Some were prepared with banners, while others ignited the leaflets. Editor Michael Harte recreates this scene using historical photographs and newsreels, preferring mobile cameras and dramatic angles.

Luckily, the media covered the event that night, recording the protest, which later proved useful for those in charge. The cameras were capturing everything when Covell told the crowd to sit down, while simultaneously signing and shouting loudly overhead. Such a film often needs a villain, and one appeared that night in the form of board chair Jane Bassett Spilman, a haughty New England aristocrat who was dining in an upscale hotel at the time the decision was made. She seemed puzzled by the crowd of upset students, yet dismissively unconcerned about their viewpoint, and was reported to have said, “Deaf people are not prepared for life in a hearing world.

Regardless of whether Spilman actually said those words, this new generation of deaf young people were not just prepared, but they felt that audist perspectives had suppressed them for too long – a sentiment reinforced during a meeting on Monday at Gallaudet Field House, where a fire alarm was triggered. “It’s incredibly challenging to speak over such a loud noise,” Spilman remarked through the microphones, highlighting both her prejudice and an unexpected lack of skill in sign language. Naturally, the deaf students could effortlessly communicate under such conditions.

At the heart of the students’ argument was the point that neither Spilman nor Zinser (alongside many on the board) lacked personal experience with deafness, hence struggling to comprehend their unique perspective. Throughout the movie, there are enlightening perspectives on how medical professionals and researchers have interacted with deaf individuals over the years. Many of these figures – such as Alexander Graham Bell, who was connected to deafness through his wife and mother – viewed deafness as something to be corrected, promoting devices to help deaf children hear and educational methods aimed at fostering speech.

In the movie, Zinser, a previous nurse and secondary adversary, is depicted as embodying outdated ableist views. On the other hand, the students advocated for I. King Jordan, a Gallaudet alumnus who was then dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. However, Jordan, who fluently communicates through both signing and speaking during his film interview, wasn’t born deaf. This led some to view him as an outsider, adding complexity to the documentary’s portrayal of the events.

Instead of portraying the four students as a single unit, the movie-makers emphasize their varying viewpoints by giving each student a chance to comment on the others. Voice actor Tim Blake Nelson voices these comments, while the real interviewees have distinct communication styles, prompting viewers to interpret their interactions more deeply.

Or:

The filmmakers don’t depict the four students as a cohesive group but rather showcase their differing opinions by having each student respond to the others. Tim Blake Nelson voices these responses, while the actual interviewees communicate differently, encouraging viewers to analyze their interactions closely.

Covell expresses himself through large, energetic movements, while Hlibok and Rarus were trained to sign in a more confined space (coincidentally, Hlibok’s son Charlton portrays him in a dramatic recreation of the “Dateline” interview). Bourne-Firl, the sole woman interviewed, was once a cheerleader with a vibrant character. Initially, her loyalties were divided between her advocacy for her deaf peers and the symbolic victory of a woman being appointed to head the university.

In this movie, an energetic soundtrack heightens the suspense for both deaf and hearing viewers, with one track, “Mr. Blue Sky” by ELO, encapsulating the optimistic spirit of a movement that’s been growing stronger over time. I find myself moved by it.

Read More

2025-02-03 22:17