Know Someone with Autism? You Need to See ‘Ezra’
Hollywood has a chequered history with neurodivergence — but this authentic and loving family dramedy is a big step in the right direction.
If you’ve encountered the tongue-in-cheek term “neurospicy” on the socials lately, you’ll have the sense that we’re getting more open (and more light-hearted) about our unique mental makeup than ever. Aussie sociologist Judy Singer actually coined the term “neurodiversity” in 1998, needing a catch-all term for ways of experiencing the world that are, well, spicier than a ‘typical’ take. Here, in Australia, that’s nearly 20% of us. Think autism, ADHD, bipolar and dyslexia.
And like every other facet of human life, stories with neurodivergent characters have hit our screens over the decades with all kinds of success (or lack thereof). Some of the winners, like The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Silver Linings Playbook and Everything Everywhere All at Once, resonated with millions thanks to their vivid and insightful representation. Others… *cough*… NOT SO MUCH ( the reviews for Sia’s “doomed fiasco” Music make for wince-inducing reading).
What links these films is that their neurodivergent characters are adults or teens, whereas Tony Goldwyn’s new family drama features an 11-year-old boy on the autism spectrum. It’s a film that shows us what childhood autism genuinely looks like (and how it affects Ezra’s family). More importantly, it’s invested in giving the wider community reasons to soften our own judgement towards those whose brains simply process information differently.
For those who AREN’T neurodivergent, Ezra poses plenty to ponder without feeling like a lecture on empathy. It gently asks questions like, could parenting (or grandparenting) a “neurospicy” child help adults come to terms with the complexion of their own mental health? Are there simple adjustments we could all make to help make life a little easier for those on the spectrum? What does the balance look like between empathy that’s helpful, versus holding people back?
Behind the scenes, Ezra’s authenticity stems from lived experience: the film’s producer Alex Plank and lead actor, William A. Fitzgerald, are both autistic. So is the adult son of the film’s writer, Tony Spiridakis. Which raises another, more promising question: 35 years after the motion picture Academy virtue-signalled as Best Picture (a film whose plot hinged on Dustin Hoffman’s autistic savant outsmarting a Las Vegas casino) — is Hollywood getting better at genuine representation for those on the autism spectrum?
What is Ezra about?
Ezra (William A. Fitzgerald) is a sharp, charismatic kid whose autism diagnosis is a bigger deal for his parents than it is for him (exhibit A: he loves to pee straight onto the therapy card “A boy pees into the bowl!” that his Mum taped to the bathroom wall). “Ezzie” says and does pretty much exactly what he’s thinking, which leads to near-constant havoc at school and home. After the latest disruption (leading his whole class out onto a busy New York street), it looks like expulsion — and a therapist’s recommendation to a school for “special kids”.
That’s not an option though for Ezra’s Dad Max (Bobby Cannavale), a comedy writer starting over as an angsty stand-up, who’s losing the battle for Ezra NOT to be shoved into a box for kids who don’t fit the mould. “Did you know Autism comes from a Greek word? It means ‘in their own world’”, Max exclaims to his own father Stan (Robert De Niro). “I don’t want him in his own world. I want him in THIS world!”
That’s a noble goal, but Max might take things a touch TOO far when, in the middle of the night, he scrambles up the fire escape of his ex-wife, Jenna (Rose Byrne) and bundles a bleary-eyed Ezra into Stan’s car. Where are they headed? He’s still working it out. Why whisk his son away? He’s desperate to protect him: from a school where he’s miserable and from a string of specialists who want to medicate him.
Cue the classic “getting to know you” movie trope: the road trip. For a child who builds their safety and worldview around the familiar, tripping cross-country creates a red-alert of new stresses (and a friction point for Max, who’s juggling his own mental health awakening). But there’s moments of quiet connection, love and safety on this journey too. As the miles roll past, father and son soon start to figure out each other’s unusual patterns — and, since we’re along for the ride, so do we.
How does Ezra show us the reality of autism?
It’s obvious there’s lived experience flowing through Tony Spiridakis’ warm script like a heartbeat. He includes small touches in Ezra’s behaviour that range from funny to life-threatening, all of which colour in Ezra’s character as a real, three-dimensional kid. As producer William Horberg described the screenplay, “It was very unique in the way it completely avoided treating autism in an ‘othering’ or magical way.”
On the lighter side, Spiridakis demos how those with autism often say exactly what they’re thinking (“Are you sad because you’re bald?” Ezra asks one of his Dad’s comedy colleagues). It’s a “no filter” approach that can seem blunt — but as Ezra points out, “I was just asking a question.” Then there’s the physical habits, like how Ezra’s disturbed by the feeling of metal utensils in his mouth, or his panicked aversion to bananas (which come with the oatmeal at a highway truckstop).
“It took a long while for that lightbulb to go off in my head, similar to Max, that as a father I wasn’t supposed to ‘find a solution’ to this — that my son was just wired differently and in a wonderful way.”
~ Tony Spiridakis, writer
Max asks his son why he freaks out about bananas. They know he’s not allergic, they’ve had Ezra tested. His reply gives us an insight into Ezra’s mind: “I gag and feel like I can’t breathe.” He’s not being fussy or precious — a slice of banana feels genuinely life-threatening for Ezra. That’s a lot to deal with at 11 years old. Even more dangerous is a motel scene where Max finds Ezra sitting in the bath with the water running scalding hot: he just doesn’t realise the temperature is a risk to him. “When you see steam, it’s too hot!” Max half-yells, with the kind of frightened exasperation of a parent that’s just saved their kid from serious harm.
Ezra’s autism also means he struggles with nuance and metaphors. In a pivotal scene, he overhears his stepdad joking with his Mum that they should “have Max killed” to make their lives easier. But Ezra takes it literally, and dashes from the house to go warn his Dad. Running in the dark across the busy streets of New York, Ezra’s almost hit by a car.
That’s scary enough as a parent, but then a witness suggests that Ezra ran in front of the car on purpose. Cue specialists asking, Is Ezra a danger to himself? and hinting, to his parents’ horror, at a possible stay on a psychiatric ward. It’s easy to see how, when a child doesn’t necessarily have the language to explain his motivations, a situation where well-meaning adults are weighing up “what’s best for Ezra” can quickly spiral out of control.
How does Ezra explore the impact of autism on families?
It’s a clever touch to have Ezra’s Dad perform as a working stand-up. Through his stream of consciousness sets — which aren’t always played for laughs — we get an immediate insight into what it’s like for Max to navigate his son’s neurodivergence. Max’s frustration and emotional pain is clear, even if he can’t always convey it clearly: a bottled-up trait he gets from his own father (and one he’s working to break free of — more on that below).
Ezra shows how, for Max and his ex-wife Jenna, part of that emotional pain is coming to terms with their son’s aversion to physical touch. He shrieks and pulls away from hugs (we see what it means to Max to finally hug his son when he steals one from Ezra while he’s sleeping: it’s like actual oxygen filling his lungs). The most Ezra will tolerate is his Mum rubbing his earlobes as a calming tactic — something Jenna suggests to Max, but he brushes it off, saying “that’s your thing.” It speaks to their different approaches at raising a neurodivergent son, and throughout the film, there’s hints at how those differences created the divide that likely led to their divorce.
“We developed a network of people we could ask, ‘What are we getting wrong, what are we missing?’ about life with autism. We showed a first cut to people in the community, including young people, to give us their candid thoughts. I remember one kid coming up to me and saying, ‘This is my life in that movie’.”
~ Tony Goldwyn, director
It might not be easy, but the film points out that, by parenting a child on the spectrum, Max is actually starting to work through understanding his OWN mental struggles. “I’m a kid like him!” Max argues with his Dad, Stan (in the strongest hint yet that Max has an undiagnosed spectrum disorder of his own). “We need to be with all kinds of kids.” It’s emblematic of Max’s Catch-22: he wants to shield Ezra from feeling “othered”, but doesn’t want him siloed off from a regular childhood experience.
The road trip is his rash solution to breaking Ezra out of that pathway, but of course, that opens up further cans of worms: Jenna is panicked and angry that Max’s “solution” is so different to hers. Stan is unhappy that his son may be repeating some of his own fathering mistakes. And Ezra is confused by his Dad’s sudden attempts to “solve” his life, and what might be Max’s over-insistence on normalising Ezra’s autism. “Why did you take me if you don’t know how to help me?!” Ezra cries in one key scene. “I’m not your superhero, I’m your son!”
It’s a fascinating point: can a parent try TOO hard to take their child’s neurodivergence in their stride? By normalising the situation too much, is Max underselling the fact that autism makes Ezra’s life — AND his family’s lives — bloody hard sometimes?
What does Ezra have to say about a newer understanding of autism?
Here’s what Ezra does wonderfully: show audiences who perhaps aren’t in touch with autism, the relatively simple things they can do to make life more comfy for people like Ezra. Take the sweet dinner scene at the farmhouse of an old friend, when Max is upset that Ezra can’t be even a TINY bit flexible on his metal cutlery rule. Ezra’s frustration collides with Max’s pent-up anger, threatening to disrupt everything… until the friends casually start eating their lasagna with their fingers. Sure, it’s not elegant — but in the moment, it’s a light-hearted example of a group making a call to give up on “rules” and do something that doesn’t really affect them at all, but makes a huge difference to someone they love who’s on the spectrum.
Pivotally, Ezra also looks at how each generation is willing to accept autism in increasingly open-minded ways by putting three generations at the heart of the story. Ezra is openly navigating his neurodivergence, and his father Max is juggling it with hope and affection, while his father Stan won’t even SAY the word “autism.”
Without coming right out and “labelling” Max or Stan, the film acknowledges the shame that some fathers can feel about their own DNA possibly putting their child on the spectrum. On their own road trip to find Ezra, Stan tells Jenna that he knows she thinks Ezra “gets it” from Max. “I never said that!”, Jenna exclaims to her former father-in-law. Stan’s reply? “You didn’t have to.” It’s a short response that speaks volumes.
“It mattered greatly to me that the writing never made light of this family’s situation. I’ve seen how good stories can spark important conversations, and out of those conversations comes awareness.”
~ Tony Spiridakis, writer
As a society, we’re still navigating getting the balance right between understanding and adaptation — that goes for those both on and off the spectrum. Ezra illustrates a newer acceptance of autism when Ruby, the daughter of one of Max’s old flames, gives Ezra a tour of their farm. She teaches him how to approach and stroke a horse — a key bonding moment — and even shares some ice-cream which Ezra bravely tastes from, yep — a METAL spoon.
Maybe a year or two older than Ezra, Ruby doesn’t treat him with kid gloves; just a welcome aura that meets Ezra, and sees him, right at his level. As a result, he grows. The look on Max’s face is priceless when Ruby gives Ezra a sudden hug goodbye — and his startled son (who probably has a crush for life by now) gingerly hugs her back.
So what’s the takeaway from Ezra?
Ezra is a simple story at heart. But then again, is anything ever ‘simple’ with families — whether autism is a part of their lives or not? As director Goldwyn says, “I hope people of all kinds will find a part of themselves inside this story and be moved by its emotional honesty. It can be a messy business trying to be a family but that’s also the beauty and joy of it.”
What the film does best is let us think about autism in the micro and macro at the same time. We’re given the intimacy of being let into two father-son relationships, to see what that direct experience is like — while also getting insights about how society tries to “deal with” those on the neurodivergence spectrum.
Ultimately, though, Ezra is a breath of fresh air for autism on screen. We can see a LOT of parents exhaling with relief and cheering with recognition at this story. As Anne Borden King writes online for The Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism, “As an autistic person, I carry a lot of hope into every film or show I watch with an autistic character. Yet media representations have often been heartbreakingly off-key. Ezra continues in [a] new tradition, showing that when autistic people are creatively involved it strengthens not only representation, but the very quality of a film itself.”
Originally published at https://good.film.
