Sam’s struggles with autism, manifest in a mild need for routine and a small measure of difficulty completing highly unstructured tasks, do not accurately represent the difficult situation faced by most autistic individuals. Sam’s difficulties are pretty minor. Upon his daughter Lucy’s request, they deviate from their regular Wednesday-at-IHOP date and venture to a new diner. Dismayed that the restaurant does not offer the same textured pancakes that IHOP does, Sam throws an unreasonably loud tantrum that even has Lucy on edge. The director portrays Lucy’s discomfort by showing frequent snapshots of her face amidst the tantrum, focusing on her incredibly wide open eyes and dropped jaw. In another scene, Sam becomes very confused and overwhelmed when promoted to the status of coffee maker, finding it difficult to fill vast assortments of orders at a rapid pace. Rapid and unsteady camera movement, upbeat music, and the frantically impatient voice tones of workers and customers reemphasize Sam’s difficulty. The director relies heavily on these two short scenes as a kind of shorthand intended to portray the extent of Sam’s minor difficulties as he transitions into mainstream society, suggesting to an uniformed audience that the autistic individual has real but mild and infrequent struggles in everyday life.

In other words, these easily correctable and harmless occurrences, while abnormal, fail to show the significant struggles undergone by a vast majority of people diagnosed with autism. The tantrum in the diner only lasts for a matter of seconds and leaves no one feeling violated or significantly offended. The transition that follows Sam’s job promotion does not, admittedly, go smoothly, but neither does Sam’s imperfect performance differ from the mistakes any normal person would make on the first day of a hectic, fast food job. Though Sam transitions back (rather smoothly) to his old janitorial position, the very fact that he was promoted to a more demanding job stretches reality. According to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill’s highly acclaimed Treatment and Education of Autistic and related Communication Handicapped Children (TEACCH) division, nearly all autistic people who are advanced enough to pursue a job usually need to work at a State Autism society enclave with intense and constant supervision, work under the close watch of a “job coach,” or have highly repetitive assembly line type assignments (Laxton). A study conducted at Harvard suggests that “only about 2% can live more or less independently as adults; even they will have limited personal relationships and cannot do work that makes social demands or requires manual skill. Another 15% manage partial independence, but two-thirds are totally dependent on others throughout their lives.

The ease with which Sam independently navigates the complicated bus routes and public transportation systems in an overwhelming city underscores yet another unrealistic element of this portrayal. Sam appears to be extremely adept at coping with fast-paced life in an urban setting by himself, only occasionally seeking assistance from his agoraphobic neighbor and friend Annie. TEACCH confirms that a mere ten percent of autistic people display an unexpected unique skill such as strong communicative or mathematic abilities, while ninety percent do not (Laxton). The presumably autistic Sam’s abilities and independence place him well above even this ten percent: he works a highly unsupervised restaurant job that requires social demands, can navigate and understand bus systems in an urban setting, purchases items, cooks, manages money, and somehow raises a child with no family support. As Jeff Vice of the Salt Lake City Desert News steams, “There's . . . no excuse for this sappy drama to exist; it's one of the least convincing, most manipulative films ever made about the everyday struggles of the developmentally disabled” (Vice). Indeed, Sam’s lifestyle contradicts what most people with autism go through, giving the audience a false impression that people with autism can live lives free of significant, daily hardship. Sam’s overwhelming amount of abilities and independence significantly deviates from what most people with autism experience.

I am Sam’s unrealistic approach also shapes the portrayals of Sam’s mentally handicapped friends. The director portrays Sam’s friends with sugarcoated and overly cute personalities, showing them as having no real struggles other than their developmental disorders. The scene where all the friends ask for balloons at Payless and then cross a crosswalk smiling really big smiles is but one of many that suggests they lead happy go lucky lives. Always supportive and in agreement, the friends never encounter any misunderstandings whatsoever in their relationships with one another. When Sam does not have enough money to pay for Lucy’s shoes at Payless, all of his friends automatically chip in without any second thoughts. Their supportive pact meets nightly having “video night” and “restaurant night.” The film fails to show the unavoidable struggles faced by the families of the developmentally disabled who have to provide their disabled relatives with transportation, supervision, and financial support. These fellows have as much money as they need and come and go as they please—no effort is made at explaining the logistics of their lives.

Most developmentally challenged persons struggle with simple daily tasks and find it very hard to integrate into normal society even to a slight degree. Family members and service workers often take on very heavy sacrifices unseen in these films. If Hollywood hopes to raise the awareness of the general public whose opinions they influence, they have a responsibility to create movies that accurately represent the realistic challenges faced by a majority of the developmentally disabled and their loved ones.

By Kate Lauren Bullock (UNC-CH)