I could not watch The Fighter until a family member who was depicted in the film gave me permission. Rational or not, I feel guilty if I knowingly watch a film about someone’s life if there is dramatization that may depict them negatively. I thought Dina was a fictional movie when I saw the previews, but it was only as I watched the film in theaters that I realized it was a documentary. The film never depicts its subjects negatively, but I was plagued by concerns of consent. Dina and Scott, her fiancé, have disabilities. They behave naturally as if the camera is not there, and we are privy to discussions about their sex life, finances and other intimate details of their life. It is a testament to their character that in that environment, they leave a favorable impression in comparison to people without disabilities on reality shows that generally cause irreparable damage to their reputation under the glare of the spotlight.
All of us, disabled or not, are consumers and influenced by what we consume. We believe that certain milestones in our life should be celebrated in certain ways, and most of us are not savvy enough or take the time to reflect on whether we really want something or have been manipulated into buying into an image and placing ourselves in that commercial context because we think that is how things are supposed to be. Considering that Dina loved reality shows about the Kardassians and Caitlyn Jenner and did not view them negatively, which is fine, I wondered if she was so eager to be the star as a celebration of her life, but she was unaware of how vulnerable she was actually making herself by participating. Unlike them, she has no media training and is being herself whereas they use these shows as products to earn money and buy a certain level of comfort in exchange for an appearance of vulnerability, but is likely a highly cultivated image of openness to the public.
Dina’s delight in I Am Cait chronicling every detail of Jenner coming out as trans and considering then dismissing that it should be private suggests that she eagerly sees her story in a similar fashion. She sees the documentary as a necessary public act and a beacon of hope to other disabled people or women who have survived great tragedy. She wants to be celebrated and not be quiet about her past. On one hand, it is laudable that an ordinary woman sees these media images and believes that she deserves equal attention instead of comparing herself to them and hurting her self-esteem. On the other hand, she seems completely oblivious that a great number of people view the genre negatively, not just her mother.
This dynamic made me hyper aware of how the wedding and sex industry exploits this idea of what the whole process should look like. Dina is a sexual being, and she knows what she likes. She is not shy about it, which is terrific, and unlike most media depictions of women, she starts discussions about what she wants instead of being reticent to express her needs. Still that sexuality is expressed through consumerism: the stripper, the sex shops, the lingerie. None of this is innately negative, but in a sense, she has so cosigned the commercialization of sex that it becomes a chicken and egg scenario. How much of it is because she thinks that is how one should be and how much of it is because the product is actually something that she was looking for? I think that whatever anyone decides to do is fine, but if you think that there is no difference between sexual expression and the commercialization of sex, then there is a problem. Also since I live in a world where women with mental disabilities are sexually exploited, even though they hired the stripper, I could not stop forgetting how many stories I hear about a mentally disabled woman enthusiastically consenting because she enjoys sex, but there is a disconnect between enjoyment and full comprehension of what she is consenting to. It made me cringe slightly.
When I watched Detroit, there was a disabled man there. The audience was all white except for me. I always wonder if our reasons for being there are different, and if we drew the same conclusions after watching the movie. Were they there for an action film? Torture porn? History lessons? I have no idea. After hearing how people want to classify Get Out as a comedy instead of a documentary, we learn that the perfect score on Rotten Tomatoes means different things to different people who insist that their interpretation is correct even if it is contrary to what the filmmaker actually says. Watching Dina made me hyper aware of straight consumerism with no reflection or critique of what they are consuming and allow it to dictate how to live. It scares me a little, but when the couple’s conversation turns to politics, and we still landed in the same place, it also reassured me. They did not buy into The Apprentice, which would have been consistent with their tastes. So I think that my concerns are unwarranted and too paternalistic. Maybe they did reflect on the images and chose which ones they wanted.
Antonio Santini and Dan Sickles did an amazing job with Dina. The documentary is really crafted as if it is a fictional movie. The composition of every shot, particularly the relationship between the couple and their surroundings, reminded me of Columbus, a movie that I adored. They may not be the central focus of their shot, but our eye is always invested in looking for their entry or exit point in every long shot. The editing is brilliant, and using Dina’s repetitive tale of past tragedies created a tension that they judiciously and respectfully released at strategic points in the film when we had absorbed these details in her life and are now rewarded with video or audio of the past to see what she is talking about. The simple, still long shot on the bench with the lighting slowly changing as we hear what she survived as she and Scott exit the shot and the camera stays behind not only evokes how far she came, but also her absence if she did not survive. It is a poignant pause and a decorous moment that distinguishes Dina as empowering and not exploitive like a reality show. Her self-esteem is rooted in reality. Dina and Twenty Two are two documentaries that show how to address a horrible event without making that single albeit pivotal moment define that person.
Despite my concerns, a lot of people could learn a lot from Dina and Scott. The way that they interact with each other is so respectful, loving and honest. They openly express their insecurities to each other and their friends. Everyone takes turns in being the strong one to help the insecure one from plunging into a negative place. They don’t take each other for granted and constantly express appreciation for the other. Their sexual dynamic is refreshingly countercultural. He is more concerned about romance and body image, and she is the dominant partner. He loves to dance and shows a refreshing freedom of movement that hopefully bodes well for their physical relationship. I cosign their love of cats and Boston Market, but I need Queer Eye for the Straight Guy to briefly meet up with Scott. I shielded my eyes whenever he shaved. I don’t do that during horror movies.
Dina may be one of the greatest crafted documentaries of all time, but some may not find it as absorbing as I did if you are not as interested in the couple as I was. You may feel some discomfort at getting such an intimate look at their lives, but overall if Dina and Scott want us to celebrate them, let’s do it.