White Bird, currently in theatres (or just departed, depending on where you live), spins off from surprisingly well-done Wonder. However, the true 2024 heir to the warm and unusually honest 2017 family film arrives on Disney+ this week in the form of Out of My Mind.
The “kids with a chronic condition” genre is challenging to navigate. Too far to one side and the work mires itself in cliché while elevating the lead to something like sainthood. Too far in the other direction, it becomes cruel, unpleasant, cynical, and possibly devoid of empathy. It is a credit to Out of My Mind that it navigates that tightrope without visible strain. Directed by Amber Sealey from a script by Daniel Stiepleman, it does right by the tart Sharon M. Draper novel without simply being an airless recreation. There are some stumbles regarding the villains and the film’s final note, but overall, it is a quick-on-its-feet family film that doesn’t wince away from the hardships of disability and being 12.
It’s clear from the early moments that plenty of thought has gone into the feature. Because Melody’s (Phoebe-Rae Taylor) cerebral palsy affects her muscle control, including that of her tongue, she cannot communicate via her voice. She still has an inner monologue and, as she points out, can give that any voice she wants. So who does she choose? Who any 12-year-old girl in 2002 would. Jennifer Aniston, of course. And see Rachel Green herself gives Melody (and the film) her voice.
But there’s more to it than just the time/pop culture-based logic. If you listen to Aniston and then listen to Melody’s mom Diane’s (Rosemarie DeWitt) voice, they are strikingly similar. So not only does Melody select the voice of her favorite TV character, she chooses the voice of her favorite TV character that sounds a lot like one of her biggest, loudest advocates. The film never makes a deal about it, never even comments on it. Just that bit of extra thought Out of My Mind seems to apply throughout.
While the voice proves a good way to give Melody as much of a voice as in the novel, Taylor is more than capable of conveying the joys, frustrations, and sadnesses of being a tween with cerebral palsy. Her eyes and mouth reveal plenty about her emotions, a reality that furthers one of the film’s central tenets. Melody is saying plenty, but the world and people around her are frequently too busy, uncomfortable, or dismissive to look at her face more than fleetingly.
An early scene involving her fish—the one pet she’s allowed—and her father captures it well. It all comes in for a doozy of a callback when Melody receives a voice assistance machine. Less successful is a similar moment later when she tries to warn her mom while they’re backing up. While taken directly from the book, the scene never feels justified here and only serves to underline a point already effectively argued.
Initially saddled with what seems like that stick-in-the-mud part, DeWitt does well adding texture to that cliché. Dad Chuck (Luke Kirby), as the softer and more hopeful parent, grows tougher and more brittle over the course of the film. It suggests he’s becoming more involved and discovering what Diane already learned. Mrs. V (Judith Light), the family’s loud and flamboyant neighbor who encourages the girl to seek the independence she craves, and Dr. Katherine Post (Courtney Taylor), a visiting admin in Melody’s school system who advocates for mainstreaming, round out Melody’s brigade. This critic is particularly fond of Light’s turn, giving a subtle steel spine and sweet heart to a pretty stock role.
The number of helpful, kind, and smart people of all kinds in Melody’s life is part of a generally upbeat tapestry. Life isn’t easy for her. There’s plenty that makes her angry and sad. But the character—and Taylor’s interpretation her—is frequently fun and funny. The film is realistic but never dour. Bad things happen, lousy people exist, but it maintains a fundamentally upbeat vibe. Out of my Mind never forgets that life with cerebral palsy is a life of crushes, academic successes, fun costumes, and star gazing. This isn’t an exercise in bleakness.
The villains, unfortunately, do not fare as well. Mr. Dimming (Michael Chernus), her history teacher and advisor to the Whiz Kids Quiz Team, comes out the most well-drawn of them. His choices feel honest, if unpleasant. He’s more motivated by expediency and fueled by ignorant assumptions than cruelty. You get how he could be everyone’s favorite “good” teacher and still do so badly by Melody.
The principal (Catherine McNally), on the other hand, slots neatly into cartoonishness. Her performance caps off with scolding Dr. Post for helping Melody. Why? Because if Melody’s mainstreaming proves successful, it will make the district attractive to other special ed students stranded in classes that only engage with their disability, not their intellect.
The trio of mean girls feel similarly two-dimensional but at least you can excuse them as being middle schoolers, an era of life where cruelty is the norm. Melody’s one class friend, Rose (Maria Nash), fares worse. For most of the film, she captures a realistic mix of friendliness, pity, well-meaning cluelessness, and discomfort. Even her turn towards pure meanness is understandable in context and, again, middle school. Where her character is left, however, feels too pat. Nash seems to have the chops to sell the final turn, but neither the script nor the edit gives her the chance. Instead, the movie strands her—and indeed everyone—in the one moment where it feels like the film is taking the easy way out.
Still, it’s understandable why Out of My Mind blinks. The book’s ending, by contrast, is acidic in a righteously indignant and satisfying way. There’s nothing especially feel-good about it. One can see why the movie would want to meet Melody’s confrontation of her class with something a little sweeter. It leaves viewers with that artificial sweetener aftertaste as credits role. That’s disappointing.
On the other hand, it does deliver 90 minutes of honest empathy—not pity—before the conclusion. In addition to shining a light on how people treat youth with cerebral palsy, it also makes note of institutional racism—Katherine’s Doctor title is consistently undercut and explained away—and the shortcomings of special education. In this subgenre, that kind of commitment to reality is worth celebrating.
Out of My Mind buzzes in on Disney+ November 22.