I recently had the fortunate opportunity to view the film “C’mon, C’mon” by A24 studios. This impressive, poignant, and beautiful film did a masterful job portraying a family navigating the dynamics of a father struggling with bipolar disorder. The focus of the film was on the relationship between the family members, with lots of attention on the character of the nine-year-old son (Woody Norman) coping with the chaos and confusion of a father with bipolar I disorder.
The film managed to portray this character delicately, balancing the almost adult-like maturity of a precocious child whose parent is mentally ill and has to grow up quicker than his years as a result, and the fact that he’s just nine years old and still very much a child. I could see how some filmmakers would be tempted to over-dramatize the son’s distress with more acting out, but the film’s actual depiction of this character was much more realistic and accurate.
He acted out in subtle ways and tested the adults in his life to make sure they could actually take care of him, unlike his father. The child’s insecurity and need for reassurance by testing adults, cloaked in demonstrations of independence, was heartbreaking and real. As a clinician, I was impressed by the filmmaking decisions around this character.
The narrative choice of this black-and-white arthouse film added to the flow, rawness, and realism of the film. The unpartnered uncle (Joaquin Phoenix) who does not have children takes care of the nine-year-old child and finds himself ill-equipped to handle or understand the behaviors of the child. While the child demonstrates his distress through his actions, it is his mother (Gaby Hoffman) who explains her son’s experience to her brother (the uncle) over phone calls and text messages, as he expresses his confusion and struggle to properly care for the boy.
I found that this narrative choice strengthened the film by showing the vulnerability and distress of all the characters. At the same time, the mother models honesty and straightforward communication with her son, which is both destigmatizing and refreshing. She expresses her own insecurity in her parenting choices and her attempt to be as honest with her son as possible as a means of accepting and coping with her husband’s bipolar disorder.
Adults in the film stumble and stutter in their attempt to support and explain mental illness to a young child, making them real and sympathetic. The filmmakers show how disruptive bipolar I can be on a family’s life and, in doing so, trades stigma and shame for compassion and acceptance. The slightly overblown (at the end) message of “it’s OK to not be OK” when having to cope with difficult things is an important one for all of us, especially youth.
As we navigate the (hopefully) tail end of a global pandemic, the message that it’s OK for us to not be OK and to need extra help and support is a great one. Perhaps my favorite scene in the film is one in which the uncle engages in a scripted (on his end) conversation with his nephew to process and apologize for a difficult incident between them.
The child, obviously no neophyte to therapeutic interventions and interactions, is accepting of and patient with his uncle. As a clinician who focuses on working with children, I loved seeing what I often see in my office play out on the screen.
A final cool detail is that there are interviews with real children (not actors) throughout the film about their challenging life experiences and thoughts about the future. Kudos to Mike Mills (writer/director) and A24 studio for creating this raw, touching film that continues the conversation on mental illness and its impact on families.
Seeing this topic portrayed so directly in mainstream media makes me feel hopeful that we are moving in the right direction as a society in response to mental illness. I highly recommend seeing “C’mon C’mon”!
– Daniela J. Owen, Ph.D.
