Shawn Ryan | Charlie / 2015

christmas miracles

by Douglas Messerli

 

Shawn Ryan (screenwriter and director) Charlie / 2015 [22 minutes]

 

Charlie is a delightful satire on two stereotypes of American family life.

     The seemingly autistic Charlie (Shawn Ryan)—he might be described as hysterically mute— begins this film by riding in the backseat with his mother and step-father in a car headed on a Christmas visit to his uncle’s, his constantly complaining mother Rose Tipton (Andrea Marcovicci)) and her almost entirely silenced husband, Keith (Chris Connor)—evidently her second go-round since Charlie calls him by his first name—in the front.

       Most of her hostility is directed at her son Charlie, who refuses to answer her, let alone engage with the fact that at his age—clearly not as young as he superficially seems—has had a college education but still found no employment. Never mind that as early as 2015, most students, his age had come to realize that having a degree meant little in the work force, a fact that never might have satisfied the bill-paying parents—and presumably, why should it?

     Rose, however, is a kind of monster who no one, Keith included, can stop from berating her favorite victim. She insists, once they arrive at their destination that he talk to his cousin Mark. “Here’s very bright Charlie. Do you know he started his own company in Silicon Valley?” Mark hires bright people for his company, and Rose is insistent that Charlie be nice to him so that she can get back her $184,000 she invested. Thank heaven for the dean who helped her from paying for an 8th year. “Do you think he graduated on his own?”

     Charlie asks Keith to pull over. He’s going to be sick, an obvious digestive reaction to the venom Rose has been pouring into him. He quickly vomits and then, as Rose continues her diatribe (“I told you Charlies not read that book in the car!”), Charlie continues to climb down the mountain into the valley below, as Keith finally reacts to Rose’s vehemence, the two falling into their own verbal battle.

      Finally, realizing they can no longer see him, Keith attempts to phone the missing boy, but realizes he’s not picking up as Rose screams over the cellphone, “Charlie, where the hell have you been?” the boy tossing away his only connection left with his brutalizing mother.

       Only a few frames later Charlie has stumbled into the white picket fence of the Sanderson family, the perfectly loving American family we’ve all heard about and dreamt of being born into. Amanda (Nancy Kimball), a youngish girl, watches him arrive into their front yard and waves hello to him just before the collapses.

     And by the next scene, he finds himself on the couch as Janet Sanderson (Mo Collins) and her husband Max (Jim O’Heir) greet him as their Christmas angel, their young son Walter (Nick Cassidy) carefully watching over the awakening body.

      If Charlie has been primarily mute previously, he now seems to have completely lost his tongue, as he smiles and simply mines his way through their more than friendly reactions to his presence. Max, the son, insists that he can’t speak.

      The Sanderson’s quickly adjust to the situation, planning for a big dinner, midnight mass and gifts in the morning, almost without a beat bringing Charlie into their loving circle.

      In fact, a bit like the angelic figure of Pasolini’s Teorema (1968), Charlie represents some joy for each of the family members. For the adults he clearly represents a perfect addition to their little family. To Amanada he is an older brother to who she can confide. For Walter …we’ll get back to that.

      Janet cuts Charlie’s hair, explaining they’re not really religious, but they’re in the habit of “always doing the right thing,” and they’ve grown accustomed to midnight mass. To Janet Charlies seems like “the grad school type, just so smart.” She’s only gone to cosmetology school. But “I love what I do,” she adds. “I think that’s all that one can ever strive for in life. I love my kids. I love Max. Why complain?” Her gift is a moisturizer that she bought for herself, but she wants him to be the first one to use it.

     In the bathroom Charlie completely shaves on his beard, looking far better than he previously did, looking like a new person.

      Walter brings him a borrowed shirt from his father and gifts him with a pair of newly purchased underwear his mother has bought him as well as a pair of pants. As the two dress and undress sitting on the bed, he also gives him an unexpected kiss, which Charlie not only is perfectly happy to receive but reciprocates, the two falling into a loving embrace that quickly turns into something far more sexual. When Janet, bringing them some tea or coffee, quietly opens the door she spots the two, closes the door silently and, after a second or two, smiles in delight that her son has finally found someone he likes.

       After a few minutes, Walter rises, apologizing for his sudden demonstration of affection. But Charlie simply kisses him again, cementing their relationship with a hug.

       Amanada, talking to him on the front lawn wonders if he can’t talk or he won’t, her young mind probing into the situation of her new “brother.” “You can talk and just choose not to? Wow. Brave.” Her gentleness and acceptance brings Charlie to tears as he begins to sob openly, she holding hand to comfort him for the pain and sorrow he has so long held within. Her Christmas gift to Charlie is obviously understanding and sympathy, something he’s rarely encountered in his life.

 

     Soon after, we see the family returning from the Christmas mass, laughing since Max spent the entire ceremony asleep. “The best hour of sleep I’ve had in years.”

       The family retires for the night, Walter and Charlie joyfully sharing a bed.

     In the morning, as the others open their simple presents from one another, Max hands a special package to Charlie, a pocket watch belonging to his grandfather Charles, “an incredibly brave man.” The watch is inscribed with the words, “To Charles, the bravest man I know.” The recipient is so overwhelmed that he opens his mouth to speak as the film goes black.

       We want to warn him that perhaps it might be better to remain silent. But we also feel that with this family, even if he later tells them what he has gone through and his personal failures, he will be always welcome. He has been given a new life, found a new family, a new home—the one we all, as children and young men and women imagine we truly belonged to instead of the one into which we were born.

 

Los Angeles, May 6, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (May 2024).