The history of film is one that has often been told by and about powerful groups. Racism, sexism, ableism — as much as this reviewer loves film, these bigotries are embedded in the artform just as much as they are in the United States. Throughout history, though, marginalized peoples have taken control of their own narratives. From the works of Oscar Micheaux and Marlon Riggs to Jamie Babbit and Cheryl Dunye, there is a rich history of filmmakers breaking through to tell their own stories. Within this context, Straighten Up and Fly Right, directed by Steven Tanenbaum and Kristen Abate, provides another breakthrough in marginalized people telling their own stories. In Straighten Up’s case, that story is of Kristen (Abate), a disabled woman living her day-to-day life in New York City and experiencing revelations about herself after meeting Steven (Tanenbaum), another disabled individual.
Both directors masterfully juggle directing, acting, writing, and producing Straighten Up, placing it entirely within the hands of the people it represents. In the hands of a studio, Tanenbaum and Abate’s excellent direction would be lost, as their camera places the audience’s viewpoint at the same level as Kristen’s. Much of the film’s subject matter draws upon Tanenbaum’s experiences, but make no mistake — this is not a Hollywood diversity cash-grab with little heart or soul. This is an honest film that knows representation goes deeper than passing references. Representation is found in front of and behind the camera, and representation behind the camera informs creative choices in incredibly exciting and groundbreaking ways. There is legitimate criticism that Abate herself is not disabled; however, she and Tanenbaum have been close for years, and Tanenbaum trusted her with this portrayal. Of course, that context doesn’t mean that this criticism is invalid; a film like Straighten Up opens itself up to a myriad of discussions, both positive and negative, that are worth having due to its far more honest and heartfelt attempt at disabled representation than what you find in modern blockbusters.
Kristen’s story is one of isolation, loneliness, and melancholy, but it is always realistic and honest. Kristen walks dogs during the day and gets high at night; she faces financial issues and has to move in with Steven; she eventually crushes on the owner of a dog she walks; she writes poetry and journals; she loves to watch classic Hollywood dance routines online. In contrast to Hollywood’s disabled characters, who often fill the role of villain, Kristen is well-rounded and interesting to watch. Though the film is relatively down to earth and mundane, it’s hard to get bored with so many interesting characters, even those that appear for a select few scenes. The writing is particularly strong in creating the verisimilitude of this world, making it feel tangible and engaging. Tanenbaum and Abate refuse to shy away from the lonelier aspects of these characters’ world, but they also provide a grounded hope that is not derived from being “cured” or “healed,” but of accepting and embracing one’s own existence.
Kristen does not have her life together, and often finds herself alone and in need of companionship. At first she finds it through sex with her drug dealer, but he does this for pay and seems more irritated and anxious than willing to spend time with her. As the film progresses, though, a real friendship forms instead between her and Steven, who she at first believed was imitating her disability and was not actually disabled himself. In finding another individual to relate to, both characters are able to lift each other up. Steven’s friends decide to host an open-mic type of event, and, when Steven volunteers Kristen to read her poetry by making sure her name is pulled from the hat of potential performers, we can see that Steven cares just as much about disabled representation as the film does. Kristen finds strength in going on stage, when earlier in the film the stares of strangers ignited a fury within her. Kristen, by the film’s end, takes this mentorship and provides it for their child neighbor, uplifting a young Black girl into the world of acting and performance as well. As marginalized people, sticking together and facing challenges with each other’s help is crucial. Without a strong community, Kristen is isolated and fearful, but within her newfound friends, she is able to find a new kind of happiness.
Straighten Up and Fly Right is as hopeful as it is biting, as Kristen’s own pessimism is dismissed by the film’s end as the aspect ratio expands to show how Kristen’s world has grown. This is not a by-the-numbers, feel-good film, though, and through Kristen’s narration we get a brutal, even rude, perception of the world and those in it. The film fits right in with the current indie scene, creating something kind and angry, fun and depressing, all at once. In one scene, Steven and Kristen finish watching the John Cassavetes classic Gloria (1980), and Kristen is enamored with Gena Rowlands’ tough-as-nails character and performance. With that, the film puts its influence front and center: its characters find strength in independent cinema that breaks norms, subverts Hollywood tropes, and is made by everyday people from a multitude of backgrounds about real, true people. Straighten Up and Fly Right is genuinely funny, brutally honest, and hopeful without ever being overly sweet; a great addition to the history of independent cinema by and for the people.
