The two were roommates at Juilliard, before Reeve became the world’s biggest movie star as Superman at 24, before Williams became Mork from Mork & Mindy. It was Williams who encouraged a desperate Reeves, who, at the height of his agony, whispered to his wife Dana: “Maybe we should let me go.” It was Williams and his second wife, Marsha, who bought Reeve’s family a special truck that was retrofitted so he could appear at the Oscars 10 months after the accident. Williams joined the board of directors of what later became the Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation and became a disability advocate himself. At Reeve’s funeral, Williams called his brother and said that Reeve had been a steady rock for Williams, “and I was a mess to him,” but Reeve liked that.
“I always felt that if Chris had still been around, Robin would still be alive,” Glenn Close says in the film, in just one of the moments that might make you catch your breath.
In that first performance, sighs and voices constantly echoed throughout the theater. “I lost five pounds of tears,” one male audience member said, adding that he kept having to use moments when the screen went black to discreetly wipe his face. The film, directed by Ian Bonhot and Peter Ettedgi (“McQueen,” “Rising Phoenix,” about the Paralympic movement), remains without distribution, but seems certain to find a buyer.
This year marks 20 years since Reeve died, aged 52, from an infection, and Matthew Reeve, his eldest son, told the audience it seemed like the right time to do something like this. They thought Bonhôte and Ettedgui could make something that felt more like narrative, more like poetry—and they delivered their archive of home videos. Reeve had three children. Two, Matthew and Alexandra, were raised largely in England after his split from his partner Guy Exton, a former modeling agent whom he never married. His youngest son, Will, was born after he met his wife Dana, an actress and singer who devoted herself entirely to Christopher’s care, as well as their advocacy work, after the accident.
The three children give tough and vulnerable interviews, as Exton does; Dana died of lung cancer just 18 months after her husband’s death. “From that moment on, I was alone,” Will says in the film.
Unlike “Still: A Michael J. Fox Movie,” two of the film’s main characters, Christopher and Dana, aren’t there to speak for themselves, so the filmmakers use narration from interviews, as well as audio from Christopher’s accident after the accident. Memoir “I’m Still Me”. He also reads from his mother’s diary, which he does every March, the month of her birthday and also the month of her death. “It’s good to get to know what she was going through in a really tough time,” he told the audience.
This is not a traditional documentary, but in many ways it is a meditation on life, with a structure that jumps back and forth in time from Christopher’s tense days playing Superman to his final nine years in a wheelchair. Everywhere there are artistic flourishes, such as a computer-generated bronze statue of Reeve that develops cracks and begins to sprout what look like shards of green glass after the accident as his body deteriorates. But the film also delves into the controversy in the disability community over Reeve’s quest for treatment, to get out of the chair. Because of this cry, the organization now has two branches: today’s care and tomorrow’s treatment.
“I’m glad they showed some backlash from the disabled community, because I feel like that too, a cry for people to say, ‘Love me for who I am and how I am,’” said Stephanie Victor, a four-time Paralympic alpine skiing medalist, who loved the film and was The only audience member in a wheelchair: “I’ll never be able to walk again.” She was moved to tears as she told Reeve’s children how much their father meant to her; she was in a car accident that cost her both her legs just six months after Reeve’s accident, and her friends gave her his memoirs While recovering in the hospital. She said her reading made her follow her dreams of becoming an athlete. She also met Williams several times when he was staying all day at the Challenged Athletes Foundation’s annual fundraising triathlon. “Robin didn’t just show up. “He competed in every triathlon,” she said.
The film suggests that it was only after his accident that Reeve truly went from playing a superhero to becoming himself, both as a parent and as a leader of an organization that is now a lifeline for 300 million people with disabilities. “It’s really a movie for us, about family and love at its core,” Bonhot said.
Offstage, Reeves was happy to think about what Williams and their father meant to each other. “Their friendship was a beautiful thing,” Will said. “They complemented each other so well, they were two young kids who had a passion for their craft and found each other and then had great success and stayed true to who they were.”