Cover image: ‘Chess’, an enigmatic dog spirit from The Stimming Room (2024).
Spoiler alert: the following article discusses plot points for The Stimming Pool.
At the Melbourne International Film Festival (MIFF) in August, I had the opportunity to attend a screening of The Stimming Pool, a groundbreaking documentary-fiction hybrid film from the UK co-created with Autistic artists. I attended a sensory-friendly session, which was a first for me as a frequent cinema-goer.
The introduction to the session was informative, with the Advocacy and Partnerships Manager of Australian company Bus Stop Films explaining that the session would run a little differently. There would be sensory differences to the usual cinema-going experience such as the lighting being kept on for the entirety of the film, slightly dimmed (described as airplane lighting), but also the social expectations would be different for the session – people were free to move around, switch seats, and come and go as they please.
Sensory-friendly sessions in cinemas and theatres are becoming more common, in an endeavour to make cinema-going more accessible to guests with autism, sensory difficulties or learning impairments.
The Stimming Pool takes an interesting approach to film production in that it is co-directed by cinematographer Greg Oke (Aftersun) and the Neurocultures Collective, a group of Autistic artists. These artists share in the film’s authorship, and its intention is to create new vantage points to explore how current production models could change to empower neurodiverse artists, audiences and communities.
With more Autistic individuals being included in research contexts (participatory and inclusive research), it is fantastic to see the approach applied within the film world. As stated on the Neurocultures website:
“the project’s co-direction and apprenticeship structure offers opportunity, inclusion and visibility for neurodivergent creatives, who are often obliged to explain their identity to audiences rather than play a central part in how representations are formed.”
The Stimming Pool is a film that takes influence from a variety of sources in the cinema landscape, the group cite influences from Richard Linklater’s Slacker (1990), Jacques Tati’s Playtime (1967), and note that the film in grounded in the concept of social surrealism in the vein of Thai visionary Apichatpong Weerasethakul.
Despite the films experimental approach to storytelling, it doesn’t feel completely inaccessible to neuronormative folk or those that are a little more used to the predictable formulas of Hollywood. But at its core, The Stimming Pool is an experimental film built on the idea of an ‘Autistic camera’. As the films synopsis tells us: “The curiosity of this camera discovers a relay of subjects who stray through the world, revealing environments often hostile to autistic experience, such as a hectic workplace and a crowded pub, and quiet spaces that offer respite from them.”
Despite being experimental in nature, there are narrative strands that flow through the film and connect to each other – it’s a stroll through a world of Autistic perspectives that seamlessly meld into each other.
Characters in the film include a B-movie film club host, an office worker masking through their day, and a dog spirit named ‘Chess’ – which hints at the idea of Autistic superpowers. There’s also a character who talks to themselves and repeats phrases over and over – “Now you’re dead!” – which signals the Autistic trait of monotropic thought. Later we’re given further context into the character, they’re an actor running lines.
Thematically, the film explores many characteristics of autism and the autism community. In one particular scene that stood out to me, a character ‘unmasks’ in the safety of their home after a day at work, beautifully rolling, touching, stroking, stretching their way through each room in the house. It’s presented to us as the audience as somewhere between interpretive dance and a yoga practice.
In another scene, a character is in a clinic waiting room filling out paperwork for an autism diagnosis and reading the questions aloud. They make snide remarks at the diagnostic questions and quip back to themselves,
“Does extremely well with some tasks and not others. Well, what’s the task?” they wonder out loud.
A young girl and her mother sit across from the character. The camera focuses on the eye contact between them, our character offering a meek smile. The girl responds with hands gestures, and a quiet connection forms between the two. It’s implied that the child may be awaiting an early identification diagnosis and that the connection they share is autism.
There’s also a beautiful graphic that runs throughout the film, a visual motif that represents eye-tracking technology. A red dot appears on the screen, then a red line to another red dot, and our eyes as an audience can’t help but follow the pattern. We see a street with people walking, the eye-tracker follows people, and stops on points of interest. Even for me, as somebody who identifies as neurodiverse, it felt like an insight into the world.
As for the sensory-friendly screening experience, it worked well – despite me feeling a little more distracted by what was happening around me due to the lights being on! It’s great that there are sensory-friendly options for Autistic folk to feel more comfortable in a shared viewing experience at the cinema – and most major cinema outlets do them now, so check their websites for session times.
This is a really beautiful film. A special note for a cinematography masterstroke at the end of the film too. The technique that the camera used left me with an incredible feeling of awe and wonder – cinema really can do magical things.
As the tagline for the film suggests, ‘Skip the Test. Drop the Mask. Reclaim the Space,’ and I will add: See the Film.
Authored by Mx Mulligan.
Our author is a film-lover who works at the Olga Tennison Autism Research Centre and based in Melbourne/Naarm.
