THE STORY – Martin Pistorius, a bright 12 year old boy living in South Africa, fell into a mysterious vegetative state as a child. Three years later, he woke up without any memories and unable to communicate. Starting from zero, he began to teach himself about the world and who he was. He was in a very real sense, a living ghost. Unaware that he understood everything happening around him, his caretakers gave him an unobstructed look at the way people act when no one is watching.
THE CAST – Jett Harris
THE TEAM – Rodney Ascher (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 91 Minutes
When most filmmakers set about adapting a memoir, it’s easy to simply tackle the story from the perspective of a straightforward narrative. It’s an easy enough methodology to grapple with and one that is also overly familiar to a general audience that is used to seeing true stories presented in traditional structures. It’s interesting that, when documentaries have the potential to harness a more believable truth, most want to see the events depicted in someone’s life as dramatized by actors interpreting these situations. At least, that’s the sentiment one can take from the medium that utilizes real subjects to tell its story. The landscape isn’t without its own interpretations as well, but it can be just a fertile ground for adapting personal writings as narrative features are. That’s the route taken with “Ghost Boy,” and at times, it’s a marvelous examination of overcoming unbelievable odds.
The center of this tale revolves around Martin Pistorius, a South African man who has garnered global acclaim for his great personal achievements. His story is notable because, at a young age, he was stricken with a debilitating neurological disorder that rendered him nearly immobile. He was once thought to be a lost cause, and his family grew distant, while he spent most of his time in a care facility with minimal support. However, though Martin’s body was severely limited, his mind was very much active. He was still able to observe his world with immense detail while being stricken with the inability to communicate with anyone around him. But such circumstances did not deter him from realizing the potential he had to defy expectations. Over the years, his mind grew stronger, and so did his body, eventually being able to showcase his great intellectualism. Today, with numerous accolades and accommodations to his name, he stands as an example of the immense willpower that can arise when horrible events are stricken upon a life.
While many have strict rules about what a documentary should look like, this piece certainly looks to bend those preconceived notions slightly to create a truly engaging work. Sure, there is the typical address to the camera that the main subject partakes in, but even that element feels altered, given that Martin cannot speak himself. He uses a computer-generated voice assistant on his computer, which describes the extraordinary events in his life while he looks on with a vibrant expression in his eyes. There’s one moment when he’s asked an impromptu question and begins typing his answer. It’s a moment that feels like an eternity as he types away in silence, and the film’s editing does not choose to break from showing this endeavor in real-time. It gives further weight to the challenges this man faces, but also the great emotional insight he possesses once he expresses these descriptive feelings. The portrait of Martin Pistorius is colored through hardship and trauma, and overcoming such adversity is shown to be a continuing challenge.
By far, the most awe-inspiring element of the filmmaking is how it vividly brings to life the internalized world of a mind trapped within a rigid body. The way that director Rodney Ascher imagines these scenarios is admittedly through simple techniques. The recreations are staged on sets with minimal designs, often empty spaces with a few props thrown about while images are projected onto the large backgrounds. It’s a very theatrical presentation but incredibly effective in visualizing this mental state. The vivid colors splash across the screen, and the jumbled editing is another aspect that symbolizes the chaotic mind field that he must navigate. The moments of deep sadness but also triumphant joy are endearing displays. It’s particularly felt in one moment when Martin describes a dream of escape from an especially horrible facility he stayed at. On paper, you can simply imagine him shrinking down to a tiny size, dropping onto the floor, and racing to a toy jet that’s able to carry him out of the building and soar into the clouds. The way it’s realized in the film is one of ingenuity, utilizing crude effects but speaking so directly to that feeling of grand elation. Both the severe isolation and exuberant joy are represented in his life, and Ascher does a fine job of capturing these details in a thoroughly engrossing manner.
To be fair, not every aspect of this exercise is completely riveting. There are breaks from the format that occasionally look beyond the scope of Martin, viewing figures who were in his orbit during this time. The moments we see of his parents and caretakers interrupt the natural flow and halt the momentum. It’s understandable to believe these scenes are necessary to break up the monotony, but these showcases are also stilted and uninteresting. Also, as wonderful as the dramatizations are, there are a couple of instances in which a little bit more acting prowess is required, and that’s when these depictions are far less effective. This section of the film succeeds more on a purely emotional level that flourishes with visual and auditory stimuli. When carried on the backs of actual performance, the limitations become more apparent.
Despite all the tragedy, you know that “Ghost Boy” is going to ultimately have a happy ending. The montage that shows Martin gaining the ability to speak through tireless efforts on his computer, which paved the way for higher education, speaking engagements, and even a family of his own, is presented in a somewhat cheesy way that undercuts the more biting presentation that preceded it. At the same time, it’s a necessary reminder of the light that came from that darkness. The film never feels exploitative in its depictions but honest to the perspective of an active mind that so desperately wanted the world around him to acknowledge his humanity. It’s a fate so many would like to avoid, and it’s realized here with an expressive beauty. There are certain conventions within this narrative, but the blending of real testimonials with creative recreations offers an arresting viewpoint. The story of Martin Pistorius challenges the audience to imagine what it’s like to feel so removed from the outside world while constantly yearning to be a part of it, and it’s a successful effort on that front.
