British Sign Language in Film
CW: Spoilers
Bluebell Nicholls
Column III
When you google “BSL films”, like most things, you are presented with a Wikipedia article. However, much to my shock and displeasure, this article lists a mere six films. In the final article of my column, I wanted to investigate the representation of deaf characters and British Sign Language (BSL) on-screen. It seems that in the light of staggeringly few suggestions from Wikipedia, the best course of action would be to watch all these films, as opposed to extracting a selection.
The films are
· Four Weddings and a Funeral – the classic 1994 Hugh Grant romcom by Mike Newell.
· It’s All Gone Pete Tong – a 2004 British-Canadian mockumentary drama about a DJ that goes deaf.
· Dear Frankie – a 2004 Shona Auerbach film starring Emily Mortimer and Gerard Butler.
· The Piano – a 1993 period drama by Jane Campion.
· The Silent Child – a short 2017 film written by and starring Rachel Shenton.
· Thursday’s Children – another British short film, from 1954 by Guy Brenton and Lindsay Anderson about The Royal School for the Deaf in Margate.
Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994)
The story follows a group of late 20s/30s London urbanite friends as they traverse the summer wedding scene. Everybody seems to be getting married, except for them. The protagonist Charlie (Hugh Grant) pines after a dazzling American Carrie (Andy MacDowell), who he meets at the first wedding, and their entangled love story takes place over the course of four weddings and a funeral. It’s light-hearted, Hollywood 90s romcom.
6 minutes. I timed it. I don’t know who saw it necessary to add it to Wikipedia’s list but 6 minutes of BSL representation is not enough to warrant calling Four Weddings a ‘BSL film’. As it turns out, this minimal representation is actually pretty typical for a feature film to be classified as a ‘BSL’ film. 6 minutes is generous too, as it is not BSL speaking alone that I timed, but merely the on-screen presence of the deaf character David, the brother of Hugh Grant’s protagonist Charlie. It’s interesting to note that, premiering in 1994, this film came out a year before the 1995 Discrimination Act. Therefore it could be considered ground-breaking that David was included at all, reflecting a growing movement towards representation of deafness on screen.
David along with BSL form one of the many romantic subplots, as various couples get engaged. It’s an endearing plot line; Serena (his romantic interest) learns BSL so that she can communicate with David in a love-at-first-sight-no-barrier-can-stop-our-love story, which is sweet, but stands stark in context to David’s other relationships. I find it striking that within Charlie’s friendship group, that seems to have withstood many years and weddings, Charlie is still the only BSL user. The rest of the group are bewildered whenever David signs anything.
Further interactions between David and Charlie depict the classic ‘lost in translation’ trope. David signs something, perhaps insulting about the third party, but Charlie translates it as a compliment. It’s an easy gag, but it’s still funny, especially as sign language’s visual medium allows for a physical gag. However, the cynic in me feels like the only reason David is included as a character is to humanise Charlie’s character. Charlie is the 1994 equivalent of a f**kboy, let’s be honest. A serial dater who leaves his fiancé at the altar and sleeps with someone else’s fiancé... – I don’t know, maybe I just don’t understand the lifestyle of upper class Londoners in the 90s. But having a deaf brother who he signs with seems to redeem Charlie as a decent bloke. David’s inclusion is a moral anchor to ensure the audience remembers that Charlie is the ‘nice, albeit messy, guy’ and not a total twit.
It’s All Gone Pete Tong (2004)
Frankie Wilde is a Super Hans x Mark Renton hybrid, with Ossy Osbourne levels of fame and disregard for other human beings. He’s at the peak of his career as an Ibiza DJ in the mid-noughties; his triumphs on stage have bought him infamy in the industry, girls, drugs and a seemingly never ending party lifestyle. This all changes when he realises, due to the eleven years of club music and drink and drug abuse, he’s beginning to go deaf. The film follows his journey as he comes to terms with this, as well as the demons of his party lifestyle that had previously gone unchecked, all in a mockumentary style comedy that makes you buy into the mythic legend that Frankie Wilde is.
Whilst deafness is key to the plot, I wouldn’t say the film is about deafness per se. It’s largely about addiction, be that to partying, fame, drink, drugs, or music. Nor would I say that Frankie’s deafness is portrayed as punishment for his hedonistic behaviour. If anything his deafness is the catalyst to making him a somewhat better person (if he is capable of that). At the beginning of the film, Frankie thinks he’s invincible. He abuses his senses via drink, drugs and blaring music. By the end of the film, his hearing’s gone, he knows he’s only human, and that there are more important things in life than sex, drugs and rock and roll. There is a change in his outlook, in his eyes, that’s captured in the Van Gogh style portrait on his wall – newfound vulnerability.
This is typified by Penelope, his deaf girlfriend who he meets at a hearing impaired club. What a great performance by Beatriz Batarda, by the way. All the women in the film pre-Frankie’s deafness are treated as sex objects, including his first wife; it’s pretty gross. When Penelope is on screen and speaking, it’s in the periods that Frankie is trying to change his destructive lifestyle, to improve. For example, when Frankie returns to stardom and his greasy agent Max reappears, Penelope is silenced again – pretty overtly. The constant noise of Max, which is actually meaningless, is juxtaposed to the blunt, honest, succinct few words of Penelope, which are actually worth listening to. Penelope is Frankie’s only relationship that’s not exploitative, unlike his agent, Sonya (his first wife – who leaves Frankie once he goes deaf and the fame stops), or hordes of fans.
I liked the way Frankie’s movements changed when he became deaf. When he could hear, he never engaged with the conversation, like in his radio interview where he’s coked up, skittish and not answering the questions. But once he’s deaf, you can see he’s actually listening to people. He literally has to slow down, to focus and look at people, to concentrate. I also loved the way he just closes his eyes when he doesn’t want to listen to Max (this is exactly what my Grandad does - turning off his hearing aids when he’s tired of listening to people).
The underbelly of show-business exposes attitudes to deafness. Initially it’s hostility; they don’t want to be ‘touched with the deaf stamp’. On the back of Frankie’s success, attitudes appear to improve, but it’s not a genuine change as it’s motivated by the profitability of his disability, similar to the modern corporate commodification of the pride flag. His label rep still calls disabled people “handicaps”, which truly makes you wince. And the way his agent wants to make him a champion of all deaf people reflects how marginalised groups get so little mainstream representation, one successful person can unwittingly become the spokesperson for all.
Overall, I really liked the film, not only for the 00s throwback fashion and the craziness, but the way that deafness was not a hindrance – it ultimately improved every aspect of Frankie’s life, including his music, and showed that true passion is ultimately limitless.
Dear Frankie (2004)
Dear Frankie is set in the coastal rural town of Greenock, West Scotland. It centres around the relationship between Lizzie (Emily Mortimer) and her son Frankie, who is deaf. It’s gradually revealed that Lizzie frequently relocates to avoid her abusive ex-husband, who is also Frankie’s father. Meanwhile, in Frankie’s universe, he yearns to see his father, who he believes is travelling the world as a seaman on container ships. To keep Frankie’s fantasy alive, Lizzie hires “The Stranger” (Gerard Butler) to pretend to be Frankie’s dad, but they end up falling in love.
I don’t think there’s really much I can say about this one. It’s more of a story about love and family than about deafness. I suppose it’s a good thing that Frankie’s (unrelated to It’s All Gone’s Frankie) lack of hearing is only a background feature. There are no issues in how people communicate with him, nor any objections to making allowances for him. It’s just a way of life. It’s well established that Frankie is a bright, confident young boy, such as when he corrects the boy trying to (unsuccessfully) bully him’s spelling mistake in “def boy”. Overall, a sweet film.
The Piano (1993)
Ada McGrath (Holly Hunter) and her daughter Flora (Anna Pacquin) have been shipped off to New Zealand, as Ada’s father has arranged her marriage to frontiersman Alisdair. Ada is an elective mute but expresses herself through her excellent piano skills. She ends up falling in love with a different settler, George, who is less socially accepted by the colonists because of his close relationship with the native Māoris. The film follows the love triangle between these three characters, with their actions centring around Ada’s piano.
This period drama received outstanding reviews. Personally, the genre is not my cup of tea. It’s difficult to comment on the precision of the sign in the film, because there’s no way to assess the accuracy of nineteenth century Scottish sign, nor the attitudes to disability on the colonial front of nineteenth century New Zealand. It could be argued that Ada’s silence is a metaphor for her lack of agency as a woman in the mid-nineteenth century, as all her circumstances are not of her choosing. In the final shots of the film, after she marries George of her own accord, she begins talking again.
The appearances of sign include the translator relationship between Ada and her daughter Flora, as well as scenes of Flora teaching the other migrant women to sign, presumably to be able to talk to Ada. This reflects the development of New Zealand Sign Language, which is etymologically derived from British Sign Language. How this happened is overtly laid out on screen - British migrants colonising under the British Commonwealth, bringing their modes of communication with them, and spreading into the community via word of mouth, or sign of hand, one could say.
The Silent Child (2017)
Rachel Shenton, who you’d recognise from Hollyoaks or White Gold, plays Joanne, a BSL in-house tutor for a family of five. She is hired by the mother, Sue, who is concerned about her deaf daughter Libby’s ability to communicate before she starts primary school. Joanne forms a close relationship with Libby by teaching her BSL. This mutual trust makes Sue envious, which turns into resentment towards Joanne, and thereby BSL. Sue backtracks on Libby’s learning of BSL, forbids Joanne from seeing Libby, and pushes Libby towards speech therapy and a school with no adjustments for deafness. We are left with Libby exactly where she started - isolated and alone.
Well it may have only been 20 minutes long, but this film made me an emotional wreck. Additionally, BSL and deafness are at the centre of the plot and screen, as the film is aimed at raising awareness about such issues.
From the outset, deaf and primary-school aged Libby is presented as ‘other’, compared to her two high-achieving teenage siblings. The parents, we can infer, are high-flying London commuting types, re-entering careers now that their elder children are about to leave home. Her otherness is established physically; Libby sits at the end of the table and she doesn’t leave the house in the morning like the rest of her family. From the beginning, there is an air of her being unwanted, partly suggested by the age gap between Libby and her siblings. When we see the dining table from Libby’s point of view, we understand her isolation via the deafening silence not only in noise, but in attention too. Nobody gives her the slightest glance, making her diminished status in the family blatantly clear. This is emphasised in the contrast between deafness and BSL needing time and attention, but her family always being in a rush, always distracted. Even Joanne gets little of this scarce attention.
The most heart-breaking scene of this film is only fleeting, showing Libby in the classroom. Sue has ignored Joanne’s advice of pushing the school to make accessibility changes, such as providing Libby a BSL interpreter or a U-shaped classroom set up. It sums up the history of deaf education in one shot, continuing to judge a fish on its ability to ride a bicycle. Libby is seated facing backwards on a table of four, as the teacher dictates a spelling test aloud. There is no chance for Libby to lip read because she’s turned away from the teacher, nor can she hear the words being called out, so her page remains blank whilst other children write their answers. Libby’s lack of engagement will be interpreted as disinterest or cognitive impairment, when it’s actually failure on the part of the school and her parents. Joanne emphasises earlier in the film that Libby is a bright kid, she just needs a different method of communication. Whilst opinions in the deaf community may still be divided on the best way to educate deaf children (i.e. speech therapy or BSL), overall the film does well in highlighting how deafness can be falsely perceived as a cognitive disability when students disengage or fall behind, but it is actually a barrier to learning that can and should be addressed. When Joanne looks through the school gates to Libby in the final shots, we see the visual metaphor of a barrier to learning. Joanne, the vehicle of BSL in the film, is barred by the school gates from Libby, leaving Libby unable to communicate.
Furthermore, I think Libby is only subject to this isolation because it fundamentally makes Sue uncomfortable. The relationship between Sue, Joanne, and Libby is tense, because Sue is unwilling to put the time in with Libby and outsources this to Joanne. When Joanne breaks through Libby’s silence with time, effort and BSL, Sue becomes jealous of this relationship. I think this reflects attitudes of some hearing individuals towards BSL; they are either too embarrassed to learn or can’t be bothered to try.
Thursday’s Children (1954)
This is a short documentary about students at the The Royal School for the Deaf in Margate. The footage outlines how roughly ten students are taught and the kind of exercises they do. The documentary shows the school teaching students how to lip read, and what this process entails in the classroom, such as practicing mouth shapes in mirrors, or matching the verb to the mouth shape. Students are depicted as vibrant, happy and engaged in learning. The film takes its title from the rhyme, the full line being “Thursday’s child has far to go”, which reflects the whole tone of the film.
The methods centre around speech therapy and lip reading, which was much the attitude to deaf education at that time. The language used to describe the children is upsetting in a modern context. A phrase sticks out: “...without words there can be no thoughts, only feelings, with nothing to join them together.” It implies that because these children aren’t literate, they’re stupid, which just isn’t the case.
Interestingly, despite it not being a part of the curriculum, signing is still occasionally occurring. The kids are gesturing or acting out the words they have to lip read. I think this shows how fundamental sign is as a method of communication - even the teacher would be lost without being able to point to where students should be focusing their attention. Equally, we can see, in practice, the circular organisation of the classroom that was mentioned in The Silent Child.
Whilst we may consider the content outdated, the fact that this film was made in the first place suggests that the creators wanted to raise awareness about deaf education, which is significant. Ultimately the film carries a positive message, that these kids “must be given strength and devotion from the outside”, thereby encouraging their education, inclusion, and support.
Final Remarks
I was surprised at what the qualifications were for being a film on the ‘BSL film’ list. I expected to see lots of BSL exchanged, but the overwhelming majority of the time, BSL only made a casual appearance. More frequently, deafness in these films is represented by the characters’ struggle with communication. I hope that future filmmakers do not shy away from larger chunks of BSL dialogue in fear of alienating audiences. Many films today include dialogue in foreign languages, occasionally even without subtitles, whereas older films preferred to use English but in a thick foreign accent. More exposure of BSL in the media is needed to increase its visibility, and raise awareness of related issues.
However, some praise is deserved. Amongst these deaf characters there was a noticeable commonality that their deafness or disability was not the limiting factor in their stories. There was a push to portray each character beyond simply being deaf, whether that’s Ada’s desire for love, Frankie’s longing for family, or other Frankie’s addiction and passion for music. The characters aren’t written off as stupid or ignorant and all lead complex and full lives – we need more of such representation to be front and centre.