Many people agree that the 1980s was not a particularly strong decade for mainstream film. The Academy Awards reflected this with relatively weak Best Film winners such as Ordinary People, Terms of Endearment and Amadeus and a few frighteningly weak nominees (such as Working Girl and Fatal Attraction).
One of the decade’s most respected films – although not a winner for Best Film – was Children of a Lesser God, a drama about romance between a special needs teacher and an angry deaf woman who resents the way she’s been treated all her life. Based on Mark Medoff’s play, the film is highlighted by a tremendous debut performance (Academy Award winning, in fact) by Marlee Matlin as Sarah, a young woman whose fear and anger over the mistreatment she received growing up deaf makes it difficult for her to stay in a relationship with James Leeds (William Hurt) a sensitive and innovative special needs teacher who arrives at the island school where Sarah works.
Leeds is in a position of power – he’s a teacher, while Sarah is essentially a servant, he’s got no disability, while she’s deaf, and he’s a man. He quickly falls for Sarah after noticing her beauty and her spirit, but she initially rebuffs his advances. Eventually, she gives in and at Leeds’ direction, quits her job and moves in with him. But Sarah’s need to come to terms with herself and establish independence interrupts and fundamentally threatens the relationship.
Children of a Lesser God is a straightforward melodrama that benefits from strong acting, but stands on unsteady moral footing. While Leeds chooses to ‘rescue’ Sarah, telling her, “I’ll take care of you,” he appears to view Sarah’s struggle for independence to be entirely her problem. It only affects him insofar as it separates them. But Sarah’s the one who needs to change; she’s the one who needs to take action. Leeds contributed to her dependence – and ultimately to her need to break free and strengthen herself – yet he doesn’t seem to understand that he’s been part of the problem. Like a well-meaning missionary who’s blind to the truths in the lives of those to whom he preaches, Leeds uses his skills and creativity to make himself a hero at least as much as he helps his deaf students – and Sarah – to become independent.
Does Leeds see that he’s complicit in maintaining this power imbalance? Does he learn anything from his experience with Sarah? The answers aren’t made clear in Children of a Lesser God, as we’re instead treated only to the traditional romantic arc (boy meets girl, boy wins girl, boy loses girl, boy wins back girl), and that’s a disappointment.
We’re left with a romantic melodrama that’s got an interesting surface but insufficient depth – a film blessed with Matlin’s wonderful performance as Sarah, and a darn good one by Hurt, but held back by its inability – or unwillingness – to get to the real root of the issue.
