The charm of “Patrice: The Movie” is abundant — which doesn’t mean that this innovative and emotional documentary, directed by Ted Basson, won’t rile people up. Much of the hype will be on behalf of the titular star Patrice Jeter and her fiancé Gary Wickham. Or at least they are He was Get involved if the government’s Supplemental Security Income (SSI) benefits program reflects the evolving moment when it comes to the lives—and loves—of people with disabilities.
The SSI “marriage penalty,” administered by the Social Security Administration, means that if these two lovers marry — or even cohabitate — they will either lose their benefits or have their benefits significantly reduced. Gary will lose his medical insurance. The rule was written in 1972, when the laws enacting it did not envision people with disabilities having a loving, even independent life. It has remained unchanged.
Patrice and Gary met while working and started out as friends. Gary lives with cerebral palsy and uses a wheelchair. One of Patrice’s legs is in a brace. We initially see them together as a couple ice skating and competing for a spot in the Special Olympics.
Early on, Patrice declared: “I’m a totally cool person with a disability. If I see something fun, I’ll do it.” And who are we to question this able-bodied soul who wears long braids and eclectic clothing? Among the activities on her fun list: being a crossing guard; building model trains, which it has done for more than 25 years; fee; And of course spending time with Gary at his or her home. In her home, a small amusement park called “P Town” has pride of place. His home is decorated with Notre Dame and New York Giants memorabilia.
“Gary is only 20 minutes away,” Patrice says in her indelible voice. “But it feels like a long-distance relationship.” After Gary said his parents were bigots, he said: “I’m tired of people telling me who I can share my life with and who I can’t.” Patrice is black and Gary is white, but their being an interracial couple is not otherwise referred to.
The two embark on a commitment ceremony even though it may lead to good trouble. They live on a small, fixed income, and they realize that their gathering must be their own affair. Organizing the party was already a challenge, but when Patrice’s truck broke down, she and Gary faced economic disaster.
He ably weaves legal and legislative challenges into the obstacles Patrice, Gary, and others face daily, weekly, and monthly. We follow the couple and their friend, Elizabeth Decker, as they join protests, consult with disability rights attorneys, and have a meeting with Congressman Jimmy Panetta, sponsor of the Marriage Equality for Disabled Adults Act.
Decker, who suffers from sensory sensitivity issues, was nearly outdone by the film’s central pair. When she starts moving and flapping her hands, she tells the director that people often think these gestures are signs that she’s out of place, but she says, “This is me calming down.” It’s not easy for Decker to organize a “Cans to Van” project to collect and sell aluminum cans. They’re rattling. Their smell. It’s a lot.
Although the director did not mention Patrice’s disability, we came to realize that she had a history of being in and out of institutions because she was unable to find consistent support in her upbringing. Generational trauma is the theme. A poster on the wall of Patrice’s house displays a quote from Abraham Lincoln that sums up Patrice’s point of view: “The best way to envision your future is to create it.”
The film embraces this goal, but also turns it on its head. “The best way to remember past trauma is to recreate it” might sum up the documentary’s wicked — and wrenching — use of re-creation. In vignettes throughout the film, Patrice depicts herself when she was younger among a group of child actors (over 100; some with disabilities) who play people from Patrice’s past in scenes that depict the number of times she has been rejected (intentionally or unintentionally). ) by people and systems. Wearing a wig and glasses, Melanie Maines does a standout job as Lee Jeter, Patrice’s strict and angry mother.
Documentaries are beginning to ask better questions and portray people with disabilities vividly, intelligently, and with a great deal of anger and flaw. Not surprisingly, this ongoing shift is being driven by filmmakers and creatives with disabilities. (Think of Reed Davenport’s “Didn’t See You There,” which was shot from the perspective of his wheelchair.) “Patrice”‘s executive producer is James Lebrecht, who co-directed “Crip Camp” and made more than just a cameo in it: Nicole Newnham’s documentary about how the Americans with Disabilities Act was won, featuring the people who won it.
Patrice resists what some might accuse of “inspiration porn,” where the reality of disability is a reason for the audience to rejoice. Yet her hero, companion, and loving staff remain an inspiration—on their own terms.