There are several elements of the film that render the issue of disability essentially meaningless. One example being that neither Pumpkin nor any of his fellow challenged athletes are described as having a specific disorder; they are solely referred to as “disabled,” “special,” “challenged,” and, in some cases, “retarded.” Even when Carolyn talks to the school guidance counselor, she explains that her problem is that she is falling in love with a retarded boy. The counselor notes, “Carolyn, retarded isn’t a medical term,” then inquires “how retarded?” Carolyn replies, “Retarded, retarded.” This exchange obviously serves a comedic function, yet it carries with it certain thematic implications. Discussing the disability in terms of degrees of retardation—after clearly stating that “retarded” is not a medical term—demonstrates the insensitive and unapprised attitude of the counselor and community towards disability. The scene also contributes to the idea that challenged athletes are nothing more specific than “retarded” and dismisses out of hand the true nature of their disabilities and the real-life issues that actual challenged athletes might face.

In the same way that avoids providing real-life, diagnostic labels to any of the disabilities portrayed in the film, the absurd physical and mental transformation Pumpkin undergoes also suggests a divergence from reality. In the beginning of the film, Pumpkin is introduced as an effectively mute, wheel-chair bound individual. By the end of the film, Pumpkin has become relatively articulate in his speech and, more impressively, runs the anchor leg of the team’s relay, sprinting past “Hansi” for the win. While this scene depicts Pumpkin as champion who has overcome his disorder, the scenario may have unintended negative repercussions on its audience, convincing the uninformed that such an unrealistic transformation is actually possible.

In the real world, “overcoming” permanent physical or mental disorders is more about finding new or non-traditional ways to complete various tasks than it is actually ridding oneself of a debilitating condition. Within the film, however, Pumpkin’s triumph and new found love with Carolyn becomes less a lesson about dealing with an actual disability than a fantastic narrative about finding love in the face of steep societal boundaries. The idea of the disability is only employed because it is one of the most taboo issues of today. As Jason Anderson of Eye Weekly notes, “First-time directors Anthony Abrams and Adam Larson Broder want to analyze (and provoke) the feelings of discomfort that "normal" folks may have in their interactions with the mentally challenged.” The idea of a “perfect” sorority girl falling in love with a boy who is mentally disabled would be more uncomfortable for today’s audience, than if Pumpkin were not disabled and simply of a lower social status.

Within the culture of Southern California State, the “cute” Caucasian sorority sisters and all-American athletes are simply considered better than everyone else—whether “everyone else” is defined as people of lower socio-economic standing, individuals with disabilities, or those with imperfect looks. As film critic James Berardinelli writes, “Pumpkin is straightforward in choosing its targets - the "Stepford wife" mentality of sorority sisters, the lack of tolerance amongst supposedly-liberal college students, and society's views of the handicapped as second-rate citizens.”

The directors’ satire works through three explicit metaphors, each of which represents the So-Cal, image-conscious way of life. The first of these three metaphors is the poem written by Carolyn, “Ode to Pasadena,” a poem her teacher asks her to discuss with him during office hours. When he has her read it out loud, she exclaims, before even finishing the poem, “This is [B.S.]!” In this case, the poem has come to symbolize the community and lifestyle of Pasadena as a whole; as Carolyn reads the lyrical description of her hometown, she begins to realize that everything about it is fake and superficial. Having had a chance to connect with an individual very different from herself, Pumpkin, she can now authoritatively say “real life’s not like that.” From this point on, Carolyn’s poetry teacher becomes an important spur to her development and eventual enlightenment, a process of discovery which provides the film with its governing impetus. It is the poetry teacher who first introduced Carolyn to the notion that not everything about life is beautiful, a truth which strikes a chord with a heroine who encountered extreme difficulty in trying to understand the pain endured by her disabled lover.

A second, very closely related metaphor is that of the poetry class itself. We see the class experienced by Carolyn in two different ways. At first she is disillusioned, stating in response to her teacher’s idea that “this is not a class, this is a poetry workshop:” “oh, this is a class, I’m taking it for credit I need to graduate.” Carolyn soon learns that it’s not about the credit; it’s about discovering what’s really important in life, which will require her to gain an understanding of suffering. The symbolic importance of the class becomes apparent near the end of the film, when her teacher begins to discuss some “administrative [B.S.].” He starts talking to the class about the grading of the course, and Carolyn takes exception, stating: “Poetry is supposed to be sacred, how can you grade us on it?” She once again emphatically states, “This is all [B.S.]!” and storms out of the classroom. This scene represents the way her society tends to assign “grades” to individuals, just as her poetry teacher grades poems. Carolyn recognizes that attempting to determine the worth of an individual is unfair and “bullsh-t.”

The third metaphor, the Greek-system, provides the film with its most explicit trope. The sorority is intended as a microcosm for the cross-section of American culture in which Carolyn has grown up. The main goal and sole concern of A-O-Pi is winning sorority of the year, and finally defeating the hated Tri-Omegas. However, there is no substance to the competition; it is simply an image battle to score points with the Greek council. They select the “challenged games” as their project, not because it is the right thing to do, but because it will sound the best on the sorority’s resumé for SOY. Additionally, during the rush process, the goal of the sorority is to attract pledges of diverse ethnic backgrounds, because diversity is socially necessary and essential to attracting the praise of the Greek council—not because they want to be fair. Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times recognizes this satire in a recent review, “Consider the way the sororities compete for the black and Filipino girls who are going through rush, because they want to add ‘diversity,’ and besides, the Filipino ‘looks almost white.’” This is exemplified elsewhere by the way in which the sorority sisters and president continually act condescendingly towards their own sister, Anne Chung. “Even Anne Chung” becomes a veritable catch phrase for the president; while trying to convince Kent to come to their formal with someone other than Carolyn, for instance, she offers up the names of several sisters before throwing in “…even Anne Chung” at the end. By doing so, she suggests that the minority girl is obviously inferior, though necessary to the sorority’s success. Such scenes unequivocally demonstrate the director’s contempt for the Greek system; as Carolyn explains to Kent, “it just seems like a way for some people to feel better than other people, and there’s no good reason for it…” The tone of the film may be primarily tongue-in-cheek, but it is apparent that the directors feel the targets of their satire really deserve being taken down a peg.

While it’s pretty obvious how the directors feel toward their subject matter, what’s not so apparent is their motivation for creating such a film. Some viewers will focus on the film’s comedic tone and conclude that the filmmakers do not possess some vitally important, world-changing agenda, that they are simply trying to create a funny film about the superficial vices of our society. Others may find a different message in the film’s final shot, in which Carolyn—hand-in-hand with her lover—looks back at the camera with a derisive glare. For this viewer, her look of contempt seemed to scorn all those watching the film who adopt such superficial sentiments as those she once possessed, at the same time challenging them to reconsider the ways in which they view and interact with the rest of society.

By Alex Slater
(UNC-CH, class of 2009)

Works Cited

Anderson, Jason. “Pumpkin.” Eye Weekly. 4 July 2002. 9 December 2005. .

Berardinelli, James. “Pumpkin, A Film Review by James Berardinelli.” Reelviews. 10 December 2005. .

Ebert, Roger. “Pumpkin.” Movie Reviews. Copyright 2005, rogerebert.com. 9 December 2005. .

Pumpkin. Dirs. Anthony Abrams, Adam Larson Broder. Perf. Christina Ricci. MGM Home Entertainmet DVD, 2002.