Outfest Review: From This Day Forward

Documentary filmmakers often, rightfully, try to vanish within their work.  Many nonfiction films are concerned with letting their subjects speak for themselves.  Yes, the director's voice comes through the final edit - no documentary is truly objective - but there's normally some remove so that we don't think of the film as an artificial construct, but rather as an artifact of events, people, places, and cultures that we might not otherwise have opportunity to engage with.  But some documentaries take the exact opposite route, with the filmmaker turning the camera oh her- or himself, resulting in something like a diary.  These films confront us and make us wonder why a director would give up the semblance of safety, privacy, and anonymity that come with staying behind the camera; the invisible hand that guides, shapes, and edits becomes visible and vulnerable.

Sharon Shattuck's From This Day Forward falls squarely into the latter camp.  Like Sarah Polley did with Stories We Tell, Shattuck turns the camera on her family, and herself, as she tries to understand the ties that bind her family - particularly her parents - together.  It's a beautiful film, bubbling over with tenderness and care, as inquisitive as it is careful in how to delve into questions that aren't comfortable to ask, but are perhaps essential to answer.

In recent years, two key demographics of the queer community have been enjoying increased visibility and acceptance: the elderly and the transgender community.  Transparent, Orange is the New Black, Caitlyn Jenner, Joel Grey, and Before You Know It are just some of the pop culture influences that have helped the public to be better informed about communities that have often been overlooked, ignored, or met with disgust.  From This Day Forward offers a vital new addition to this loose, still-forming canon: a portrait of an elderly transgender woman still trying to come to terms with what her identity means to her, her family, and her community.

Trisha, Shattuck's father, is as compelling a subject as one could hope to find.  She's simultaneously candid and thoughtful, giving us insight into the confusion and joy that color her life.  We witness her cognitive dissonance - she feels like she's on the fence between masculinity and femininity, donning the garb and gait of both gender constructs when the occasion calls for either.  She reminisces about telling her wife, Marsha, about her cross-dressing when the two were young and still dating.  She wonders about authenticity when she's manipulating her voice to be higher or choosing what to wear. So often, we're presented with conceptions of transgender individuals who are lauded for fitting preconceived notions of beauty and femininity.  That's great for those individuals, but we need to also celebrate those who don't fit those norms or whose identities are more fluid.  Trisha is a beautiful counter-example to what a fulfilling transgender life can look like, warts and all.

Shattuck delves deep, interviewing her sister, mother, former boss, and other members of the community, coupling the interviews with home videos and photos, and also peppering the film with her own recollections.  The film opens with her recalling when she was thirteen, and Trisha told her that she hoped to wear a dress at her wedding someday.  That memory becomes a driving force in the film as we get closer to the wedding, wondering what Trisha will end up wearing.  Audiences are used to seeing films where the entire world hangs in the balance as superheroes fight massive, powerful threats, but somehow, these stakes feel so much higher.  I won't spoil the scene, but it had me in tears, as did other moments in the film.

While the film is very much about Trisha's gender identity, it's also - as the title suggests - about marriage.  Trisha and Marsha have an unconventional, remarkable marriage.  When they impart advice to Shattuck and her new husband at their wedding, we know it's advice worth hearing, considering everything they've been through.  When one spouse transitions, there's sometimes a longing in the other, a "missing" of the spouse who is changing, even as he or she changes into a more authentic self.  From This Day Forward reveals the power of love to transcend the hurtles and obstacles that come in life, however mundane or exceptional they might be.