It’s difficult to distill into words the pure magic and transcendent beauty of writer-director Sian Heder’s CODA, a joyful coming-of-age story and Sundance crowd-pleaser hit, which received rapturous reception and four festival accolades when it premiered there back in January. On paper, it shouldn’t work: the film is littered with the signature narrative flourishes of this genre, or what some may deem as “clichés” (a young female protagonist polarized between her dreams and family, puppy love unfurling into romance, adolescent self-actualization in the midst of adversity, etc.), but Heder works cinematic wonders with this formula, miraculously reshaping it until you swear with every fiber of your rejuvenated soul that what ensues is as fresh and compelling as ever.
Ruby Rossi (Emilia Jones in a mesmerizing star turn) has a voice so angelic that it could reverberate into the heavens if it weren’t for the parents (Marlee Matlin, Troy Kotsur) who always seem to keep her at bay. This situation is born out of a mutual need and love rather than cynicism, though: Ruby is a CODA, or “Child of Deaf Adults,” and as the only hearing individual in her family, she assists her parents and brother Leo (Daniel Durant) in their daily living in Massachusetts, whether that is ordering at restaurants for them or working on the family’s struggling fishing boat at the break of dawn.
However, upon joining her school’s choir, partly to chase a dreamy boy (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo) but primarily to pursue her own passions outside of home, fiery and endearing teacher Mr. V (Eugenio Derbez) senses Ruby’s immense vocal talent and offers her a pathway, a Berkeley tryout, beyond their small town. All her family needs to do is learn to let go of their beloved daughter, defender and confidant, which is understandably strenuous, considering that society often, unfortunately, skews in favor of those without disabilities.
This classic push-pull conflict engagingly propels the simple yet effective plot, but CODA finds its singular vitality in its understated complexity, revitalizing the coming-of-age genre in the process. Heder directs with quiet, subtle pathos and thrilling emotional dexterity, establishing a deeper foundation for the story to bubble and flow as the delicate cinematography illuminates it. While the morning sun scintillates off the serene sea, so does this promising dramatist’s deep-rooted empathy for her characters and subject, filling in her story’s potentially treacherous waters with insurmountable love, candor and even humor. You can practically feel the durable compassion etched into every frame of this film, a rarity in contemporary cinema and one emblematic of a filmmaker who can find majesty in even the most minute details.
CODA‘s fervently throbbing heart could practically fill a room like Ruby’s robust singing pipes. Heder taps into an affectingly warm and authentic vein of humanity in her storytelling, marrying the intricacies of these working-class lives- the sorrows and triumphs of the deaf and their loved ones- with the patient, soulful aesthetic. She isn’t averse to focusing on characters other than Ruby for a scene or two, like the prejudice Leo experiences in a bar or the systemic constraints placed upon the fishing business, but she never illustrates her family as passive or docile. These choices nurture Ruby’s arc with great nuance and paint a broader tapestry of this particular time frame of life. Even the inevitable teen romance and best friend (Amy Forsyth) interactions yield heavier insights into the story, building rich dramatic contrasts.
Like a well-tuned symphony, this incandescent and sincere film moves with meaning and purpose. Ruby has dutifully upheld her familial obligations with so much grace and pride for her clan, but she is eager to forge her own identity. With rigorous specificity that bears utmost universality, CODA assuredly tracks that transition of living life on “Both Sides Now” (that song is profoundly utilized in a finale that punctuates the film’s thesis beautifully): to value the people and places that informed one’s being on a spiritual level while proceeding to cultivate a sense of individuality and passion beyond them. Just how her family must learn to let her go, it is equally crucial that Ruby lets them in during such a pivotal moment in everyone’s lives.
For a vision this earnest and confident, Heder allows her poised ensemble to shine more than any potentially flashy directing choices, a restrained approach for the better. Jones navigates the turmoil of Ruby with reverence and gravitas beyond her years; she’s a star in the making, one whose boisterous, honest and poignant depiction is all the more impressive considering she had to straddle her portrayal between spoken English and American Sign Language. Matlin, Kotsur and Durant, all of whom are real deaf actors, anchor the film in a warranted sentimentality and eclectic dramatic texture, always evading the saccharine. This is simply one of the most splendid casts of the year, one that champions deaf representation just as extensively as the filmmaking.
At its center, this is a groundbreaking story of what it means to be heard and accepted by the ones you hold most dear, a tonic to almost any hardship, brilliantly conceptualized through a unique, faceted coming-of-age story. It’s an utterly jubilant yet incisive slice of life, like a vividly euphonious harmony that rings true no matter how many times it’s played. Heder and company have crafted something so searingly resonant that it could remove even the most indelible thorns from the coldest of hearts, instilling those holes and scars with pristine understanding, buoyancy and tenderness. That might just be the ineffable magic of this incredible film: it begets you to experience the supreme emotional catharsis of seeing one for the first time, the sheer giddiness, exuberance and privilege of actually getting to feel something familiar again in its full capacity.
Grade: A
CODA is now available on Apple TV+.
Photo Credit / Apple TV+
