Short Term 12 *****

Anger. Grief. Victimization. Joy. Hope. Helplessness. Shame. Trust. Outrage. Support. And love.
Love.

Short Term 12 is a movie that moves through the above things with the heart and openness needed to truly get a glimpse into the lives shared in the film. I laughed. I cried. I ached deeply inside at the hurt portrayed so effectively. It’s a hurt I’ve seen first-hand. It’s a hurt I know is out there. And these actors, this fabulous blend of this cast, do a wonderful job of sharing all those things with the audience.

I spent two years working in a psychiatric residential treatment facility. No doubt, that time and that experience color my perception of the movie. (I smiled and sometimes giggled at some of the memories—-“de-escalation”; “We’ve got an AWOL!”; “Yelling at me is not an effective form of communication” (My out-loud laughter at that line surely was inappropriate, as the subject of the conversation between Grace and Jack was anything but funny. My apologies to my fellow movie goers.); the quiet room (which is anything but quiet); charting (charting!); the white board; etc.) But seeing it during its debut here in Jax, I noticed that the audience clapped at the end. (Not an uncommon thing with the movies at Sun Ray, of course.) That applause shows that my adoration of this movie clearly wasn’t only because of my past experiences.

But those past experiences do allow me to share with you just how incredible this movie is. The residents at the facility are so well portrayed. The *need* for a child suffering a history of abuse to be able to scream and run and be angry and physically struggle against arms that won’t inflict pain is real. The shame internalized by child victims cuts deep—literally and figuratively. The heart (oh my stars—yes, the heart!) that direct care staff have in touching these kids’ lives is real. And the pain, the fear, the anger, and somewhere, sometimes deep, but somewhere the hope that a young person can find—that’s all so very real too. This movie depicts these things so beautifully, so warmly, and with such raw realism.

Okay, so sure, the movie turns a few times to places unlikely to happen. But it *is* a movie, after all. And sometimes that sort of unlikeliness is needed to get a point across. Would anyone in Grace’s shoes actually go as far as she does? That’s highly unlikely. But will many of those watching the movie understand a bit more just how deep the pain of abuse is and how long lasting its effects are? That’s quite likely.

I feel so lucky to have revisited that time in my past career that I shared with the kids I worked with. (I’m shocked to realize the youngest I ever worked with is now older than I was when I worked there.) I wonder about some of those kids. My heart *still* aches for many of them and what they experienced. The movie took me there, and it makes me wonder about and reflect on how that experience fed everything that came after.

Without your having those experiences, I cannot expect the movie to do the same for you. But I am certain it will speak to you. Listen to what Grace says when she yells at Jack. Hear her words. Understand Marcus’s anger and reactions. Realize how easy his path could be different. Feel Jayden’s pain and fear and helplessness. See past Luis’s screen of humor. You may live in a pretty world, but watching this movie can be an education that not everyone does. Keep that in mind if you find yourself judging others too quickly.