By Yasna Muratovic
Most Americans’ lives are influenced by television. In the same vein, many American lives are shaped around their disabilities, and yet, the representation of disability on streaming programs is limited. Countless disabled people would challenge the idea that disability is something unworthy of being included in films, and still, disability is hidden by ableists in film who find it grueling to include complex disabled characters in their productions. Even so, films and television shows with disability representation are not impossible to find. Television shows Atypical and Special, both available on Netflix, portray the dynamics of disability similarly. From a psychological point of view, language analysis can be used as a tool to understand how people may perceive themselves and how others may perceive them. Upon watching the pilot episodes of both shows, I was inclined to focus on the disabled protagonists’ self-talk and also how the supporting characters referenced them. With this, we may analyze how producers depict the characters, their disabilities, and their dispositions at the onset.
Sam, the main character in “Atypical,” is an autistic young adult who begins to navigate the idea of dating in the pilot episode. Sam’s mother, Elsa, is concerned about rejection and heartbreak, despite his therapist’s confidence that he is perfectly capable of managing a relationship. Amusingly, Sam deals with both of his mother’s worries in just the first episode. We get a glimpse of his introspection as he pushes a girl off of him when they try to become intimate with each other, at which point she degrades and disrespects Sam. Sam has a shameful demeanor as he puts his hoodie on and lowers his gaze walking home. He finds his sister, Casey, and her friend hanging out on his front porch. As they sit together Sam says, “Sometimes, I wish I was normal” (“Atypical” 31:40), an obvious result of the humiliation inflicted upon him by the girl he was looking forward to being intimate with. If this encounter never happened, it is likely that these negative thoughts wouldn’t have come from Sam at all. We can imagine how this experience may taint the way Sam feels about pursuing other sexual desires in the future. This self-talk allows us to see into Sam’s character development and read into some of his internal feelings as the protagonist in the show. More notably, it becomes clear that the main character’s interactions with the speech of those who surround them have an impact on the way they perceive themselves.
In fact, the language Sam’s immediate family uses to talk about him when he is not around is arguably more negative than the thoughts Sam has about himself. This is surprising, as one would anticipate support from the parents of a disabled person. Instead, Sam’s dad, Doug, insists that Sam’s new venture into dating is good because then, he and his wife could “get back to where they were before all of this” (“Atypical” 8:22). This gives us insight that Doug feels a certain hindrance has been caused in his life due to his son’s autism. Consequently, he feels they need to strive toward getting back to their version of a “normal” life. Such language is not only demeaning for the person with the disability to hear, but is a direct effect of the way society today has painted disability out to be an infection that families need to recover from. What is more concerning is that these ideas are held by those closest to Sam, indicating that they too must agree that Sam’s autism is something that needs to be dialed down in order for life to be pleasurable. This rings to be true as Sam’s mom reminds his therapist that “relationships are hard enough for neurotypicals” (“Atypical” 10:20), suggesting that Sam’s neurodivergence makes his ability for a relationship unrealistic, and the idea of it impossible. Rather, the opposite is true; Sam’s autism does not make his natural desire for intimacy any less valid or feasible. The language Sam’s family uses to speak about him and his disability is particularly degrading to Sam’s character, and while this may be the case in many family circumstances, it isn’t always.
Alternatively, the Netflix series “Special” stars Ryan, a 29 year-old man with cerebral palsy. In the pilot episode, he navigates a new internship which serves as a token experience where he struggles to manage his workload and new coworkers who do not fully grasp his disability. Throughout, the supporting characters are uninhibited in speaking about Ryan and his disability. Ryan’s therapist reassures, “You’re lucky. You’re privileged” when Ryan feels able in some ways and disabled in others (“Special” 2:21). He questions whether he should label himself as disabled, considering he may be perceived as able bodied at first glance, but still possesses disabilities which impact his daily life. Although Ryan’s therapist serves as a source of comfort for him, his coworkers are not so spirited. Specifically, his boss, Olivia, says that Ryan’s “inability to open mail [and his] sad limp” all make sense after Ryan admits he’s been hit by a car (“Special” 11:55), which is true but not the cause of his disability. Her shaming language toward Ryan shows the able-bodied assumptions that disabled people are weak. In our society today, people with disabilities are measured on a scale of how much of an inconvenience they are. In this case, Olivia sees Ryan as a person to pity because of his struggle to do some tasks which mildly affect her. While this is only a glimpse of Olivia’s ableist language, it is enough to capture the nature of discourse regarding disability at Ryan’s workplace. In “Special,” the language of the supporting characters is demeaning for Ryan, and yet it does not trigger an immediate reaction as it does for Sam in “Atypical.”
The ableism Ryan experiences was manifested similarly for Ryan as it did for Sam. After having trouble with the letter opener at work, Ryan takes it upon himself to practice at home. Ryan becomes frustrated with his difficulty and says, “my boss already thinks something’s wrong with me, because I can’t do basic shit like open mail” (“Special” 9:59). This is related to Sam’s sexual experience in which he feels less-than and humiliated when he feels he cannot fulfill a certain agenda. Their self-deprecating language following the incident shows that these negative comments can stick with a person. It also makes me wonder: how would the narrative change if it was the letter opener that was ineffective, not the person using it? Who gets to decide what a simple task is and what is not? So much of our world consists of people with disabilities, diagnosed or undiagnosed, who are capable of something that the next person may not be capable of. It is by the same token that in “Special,” Ryan may not be skilled in using the letter opener but he could be the best at pitching article ideas, which is what his internship was truly about. Due to his disability, he did not get the chance to do so as he was shooed into a category of incapability the moment he couldn’t fulfill a certain task. Ryan’s moment of self doubt is fueled by the opinions of his coworkers who make him out to be a pitiful inconvenience, thus hindering his ability to flourish and reach his full potential.
In both “Special” and “Atypical,” we see main characters Sam and Ryan perceiving themselves in similar ways as a result of degrading encounters with able-bodied characters, whose language captured the ableist environment created by filmmakers in both shows. Ryan and Sam become insecure about their disabilities when they compare themselves to the able-bodied people who surround them. The language they use to refer to themselves is harmful to their ego and may taint the experiences to come as they face conflicts in the show. Evidently, there lies a connection between the introspection of the main characters and the language of the people in their lives. While the characters talked about themselves in a similar way, the supporting characters’ attitude toward them differed. In Sam’s case, his family sees his disability as a hurdle to overcome, which becomes transparent as his dad wants to “get back to normal” and his mom doubts his capability of being in a relationship. In “Special,” Ryan’s boss Olivia takes pity on him when he has trouble with insignificant clerical tasks. For her, his disability is not something to be repaired but rather dismissed. The dynamics of language and relationships sculpt the plot of both television shows which are different as a result.
Disability creates a large minority in our world today, and it leads to people who are valued and respected less by society. The discourse surrounding those with disabilities should be a source of empowerment, not shame. Sam and Ryan view themselves similarly as a result of the language of those around them, which differed between the two television shows. Despite the complexities of “Atypical” and “Special,” the shows send a message: creating media productions with intricate disabled characters is possible, and although it may not be perfect, the representation is what matters. There is still work to be done in film and television regarding the inclusivity of actors and characters with disabilities, but shows like “Atypical” and “Special” prove that it can be done. As I have picked apart the language of the characters in both productions, this analysis allowed me to do my own introspection. I was able to reflect on my own inherent ableism and consider the language I use regarding disability. I have a greater recognition for the power of words and as I pursue a career in both psychology and language studies, I look forward to implementing disability activism in both fields.
Works Cited
“Antarctica.” Atypical, created by Robia Rashid, Season 1, Episode 1, Sony Pictures Television, 2017.
“Chapter One: Cerebral LOLzy.” Special, created by Ryan O’Connell, Season 1, Episode 1, Warner Bros Television, 2019.
