Words by JANE CROWTHER
Christopher Reeve’s children (from his relationships with Gae Exton and Dana Morosini) open the family scrapbook and video archives to search through their memories of their father that are so entwined with those of an international consciousness. The youngest, Will (now a US broadcaster) is bittersweetly cognizant to his own memory conformity as he was only two when his actor dad, the world’s Superman, fell from a horse in 1995 and was paralysed from the neck down. It was an event that became a cultural one as rolling news documented whether a seemingly invincible man would survive a fall that had he landed one inch differently might have been merely an embarrassing flub. Matthew and Alexandra, teens at the time, recall the trauma of that moment more acutely, but as Reeve’s initial crisis turned into a paraplegic way of life that lasted nine years after the accident, the blended family admit that a father who was loved but fiercely adventurous and often away for work, came more sharply into focus as he was tethered to his home.
In a time-hopping biopic loaded with home videos, photos and personal accounts (from Glenn Close and Whoopi Goldberg to Jeff Daniels and John Kerry), directors Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui unpick the facets of Reeve that made him the perfect Man Of Steel, but also gave him a steely determination when faced with unimaginable odds. It charts the boy who could never impress his father, the Juilliard student who formed a lifelong friendship with his college roommate, Robin Williams, the actor who aced his Superman audition despite a sweaty leotard, strove for artistic relevance outside of DC adaps and became a shining advocate for research and rights for spinal injury sufferers. Unlike Kal-El himself though, Reeve is also presented as entirely human – sometimes too competitive a Dad on the ski slopes, a goofball, a man who walked out on his partner, a self-confessed player for a time and capable of self pity.
Though Reeve was undoubtedly impressive in how he dealt with his difficulties, the heroics of this account are reserved for Reeve’s wife, Dana, whose insistence that he remained the man she loved despite his injury, and care in ensuring he continued to live as full a life as possible seemed to give him the power to outlive his prognosis, instigate change and even begin to regain tiny movement in his fingers. The secret poem found by her children is one of the most moving moments of the film as we realise the sorrow, rage and grief she carried underneath the indomitable spirit. And her story is one that seems particularly cruel in a telling that takes in other deaths, not just Reeve’s.
Interweaving homespun footage with a bombastic score and superhero imagery (Reeve as a titanic statue, cracked and suspended in space, kryptonite weeping from the fissures), directors Bonhôte and Ettedgui also make clever use of Reeve’s film appearances in Rear Window and archive footage to illustrate his voiceover taken from recordings he made in preparation for writing an autobiography. The result is a film about strength in adversity that provokes tears as well as a life-affirming sense of gratitude. Parents and children will be squeezed all the more tightly after watching.
Words by JANE CROWTHER
Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story is in cinemas now
