This is amazing! AMAZING. Chronic illness does its best to strip you of your dignity, your control, and your identity. This is a great example of how things that might seem trivial to a healthy person, can make all the difference in someones life.
Ahmed also revealed some pieces of Bodhi Rook’s history that never made it onscreen. “Bodhi grew up on Jedha. It’s been a troubled planet for a long time. It’s occupied by Imperial forces, and I was thinking, ‘What makes you want to be a cargo pilot and just fly long distances for the Empire?’ I always imagined he was supporting maybe a single mother.”
In his mind, Bodhi was the only child from a poor family who agreed to work with the Empire because his mother was sick and had no one else to support her. “He’s taking a job, which a lot of people wouldn’t take. They’d think he was a collaborator with the evil forces,” Ahmed says. “He’s in a position of necessity rather than privilege, and I also think the desire to kind of fly and escape is a strong one. He’s someone who’s always kind of dreamed of escaping and leaving his home world behind, which also speaks to his ability to turn away from the political reality of Jedha.”
Then something happens that changes his mind and makes him turn against the Empire and try to help the Rebellion.
“In my mind, I think he would have lost his mother not too long ago, before we meet him, and that, in a weird way, makes him reassess,” Ahmed says. “It liberates him more. What he’s doing with his life, given that we’re only here for a short period of time?”
With his mother gone, there would be no one left in his life for the Empire to punish for his resistance.
okay, i’m just putting this out here because it needs to be said and i’m sick of letting the bullshit train continue when i could help stop – or at least bring attention to – it. i have a friend who is diplegic and therefore uses a manual chair (her twin was also quadriplegic and in a motorized chair) and when we watch movies with wheelchairs in them, we like to critique the designs.
do you know why mcavoy couldn’t/can’t drive his motorized wheelchair? BECAUSE THE FUCKING WHEELS ARE ON THE WRONG WAY. HANK MCCOY, WHO IS SUPPOSEDLY A “GENIUS”, DESIGNED THE WHEELCHAIR SO THE BIG WHEELS ARE ON THE FRONT AND THE SMALL WHEELS ARE ON THE BACK.
LOOK!
LOOK AT THIS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT. DO YOU KNOW WHY HE CAN’T DRIVE IT? THE SMALL WHEELS ARE AT THE FRONT BECAUSE THEY ARE SMALL AND THEREFORE ALLOW FOR LOTS OF FINE CONTROL, AND THE BIG WHEELS ARE AT THE BACK BECAUSE THEY OFFER POWER. WHEN THE BIG WHEELS ARE ON THE FRONT IT IS SO DIFFICULT TO CONTROL WHERE YOU ARE GOING. IT’S LIKE WHEN YOU WALK BACKWARDS ON A BIKE AND TRY TO STEER STILL WITH THE HANDLEBARS. I SAT BACKWARDS ON MY FRIEND’S MANUAL CHAIR AND TRIED TO WHEEL MYSELF. IT WAS LIKE COMPLETELY REWIRING MY MOTOR SKILLS EVERY SECOND I WAS MOVING. IT. IS. BULLSHIT. AND ALL OF CHARLES’ CHAIRS ARE LIKE THIS!!! HANK!!!!! WTF!!!!!!!
ALSO. Charles would have THE WORST backpain from that stiff-ass unnecessary fuckin metal backrest that goes all the way up. YOU KNOW HOW PEOPLE’S BACKS GET UNCOMFORTABLE WHEN SITTING FOR HOURS ON A LONG PLANE OR CAR RIDE???? YOU KNOW THAT FEELING??? THAT FEELING IS THIS CHARLES’ LIFE, OKAY. HIS BACK HAS TO BE UNNATURALLY STRAIGHT ALL THE TIME. THIS CRITIQUE IS TAKEN FROM MY FRIEND’S EXPERIENCE BECAUSE SHE ALSO HAS A HARD BACK CHAIR AND HAS BEEN TOLD SHE’S GOING TO HAVE AWFUL BACK AND SHOULDER PROBLEMS BECAUSE OF IT. YET HARD BACKS ARE STANDARD AND SLING BACKS – LIKE THE ONE I’M GOING TO SHOW YOU IN A SECOND – ARE NOT! THIS IS BECAUSE THE WHEELCHAIR-GETTING SYSTEM IS COMPLETELY BROKEN AND IT’S SOMETHING YOU SHOULD REALLY CARE ABOUT BUT IT IS A RANT FOR ANOTHER DAY). THE POINT IS, CHARLES’ BACK IS ONE HURTIN’ UNIT IN THIS CHAIR I GUARANTEE YOU. HE OBVIOUSLY DOESN’T NEED IT FOR TRUNK CONTROL. HE HAS AMAZINGLY FREE RANGE OF MOVEMENT ABOVE HIS HIPS. THIS CHAIR IS B U L L S H I T. HE CAN’T DRIVE, HE CAN’T SIT UP IN A COMFORTABLE WAY. POOR BABY IS H U R T I N G but right, Hank’s ~~a genius~~
In contrast, look at this chair!
Look at those tiny-ass wheels on the front! The user of this could spin ON A DIME. It’s Nice as Fuck. Look at that back. (Okay I’m not 1000% certain it’s a slingback) but it doesn’t go all the way up the user’s back! That’s some free-range-of-movement-let-your-spine-do-almost-anything-it-wants-shit right there. Since Charles pretty clearly has full use of his trunk in the movies, this would make much more sense. Also, Ann (friend) and I really don’t see why he would want an electric wheelchair when he clearly could have a manual one that allows for even more control.
AND OKAY, all wheelchairs should be specific to their users. Some people need more back support. In Ann’s quadriplegic brother’s chair there was a neck brace and little wing things on the side that came out and clamped around his body. Some people’s foot rests need to go out like Charles’ does (whether or not he requires this is kind of foggy, espc. since the overall design is so. asinine.). Some need their footrests to be more in like the orange chair. Some people get tilted wheels, some people don’t. (Also the process for deciding this is bullshit – on government insurance they will only build your chair with the assumption that you will never leave your house and therefore it’s almost impossible to get ‘add ons’ like sling backs and tilted wheels and under-the-seat brakes WHICH SHOULD BE STANDARD, AGAIN, BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T HAVE THEM YOU COULD HAVE MORE MEDICAL ISSUES DOWN THE ROAD OMG THIS SYSTEM IS SO BROKEN).
But I think we can ALL fucking agree that your wheels should go on the goddamn correct way so you can, you know, steer. And that maybe your chair should be designed more like a mobility assistance device than a fucking 1860′s gentleman’s club wingback for no goddamn earthly reason.
SHIT this stuff gets me riled up.
wow this is really interesting and makes a lot of sense! New headcanon is that Charles only uses the ridiculous X-chair when he’s teaching a class but the second he has spare time he settles into a wheelchair like the one below and just goes “aahhhhhhhh”
@spiftynifty is absolutely right, I was about to criticise his wheelchair as well, but then I noticed that he uses a completely different one when he is actually outside with Hank and Summers brothers (sorry for super bad quality)
Let me reblog this with an addition because YOU SHOULD STILL ABSOLUTELY CRITICIZE HIS WHEELCHAIR. Yes, he uses the manual wheelchair outside. Wanna know why?
Regular motorized wheelchairs are REALLY REALLY heavy. Charles’ motorized chair, even if its a light weight alloy, is made ENTIRELY out of metal. It’s probably too heavy for wheeling through gravel and across the lawn. He would sink. Also, let me re-iterate, ITS WHEELS ARE CONSTRUCTED ENTIRELY TOO POORLY TO HAVE ANY CONTROL WHATSOEVER. THE *WHEELS* ARE GODDAMN METAL, IMAGINE WHEN ITS ICY OUTSIDE. YEAH. YEAH, IT’S NOT GOOD. And when it’s not icy and he’s trying to wheel across the grass with those stupid-ass wheels – into the pond he goes. Also, Hank put the motor like one fucking inch off the goddamn ground so when the HEAVY WHEELCHAIR inevitably SINKS………. Yeah. Charles is up the creek without a paddle.
As for this manual chair, it is also subpar. Although the wheels are mercifully in the right place, it looks too small for him. The wheels need to come up higher so that when he wheels himself, the rim grips are right there. Also, his arms should be able to go back pretty far on the wheels. Where they are now, you can only get a little bit behind your hips (again, speaking from experience). The high back on this chair AGAIN restricts his movement in this aspect. Charles probably will have shoulder pain that may result in surgery down the road with this chair (because it looks SO MUCH like Ann’s chair and that’s exactly what Ann has been told will happen to her).
Second of all: I understand you’re just trying to make canon work and are not being bad people (please believe me, I know this), but absolutely no disabled person should have to switch chairs for mobility purposes multiple times a day. These chairs should be built for every day needs.Is wheeling on carpet a bitch with a manual chair? YOU BETCHA! Easy fix: take away the rugs; it’s Charles’ house. Is it more exhausting to go up hills in a manual? Oh my god, I don’t know how people do it, it is the worst. But maybe that’s a struggle that should be shown, instead of magically having him transfer to a new chair whenever a new problem arises? Think: would you like to cart around 47 different mobility devices that you would have to transfer in and out of just because your house and/or your chair, is not built for your life convenience? Maybe they should just build the chair better.It is a part of Charles and it always will be. BUILD. IT. BETTER.
Charles is lucky enough to be a multimillionare with his own lab/engineer to build chairs for him. Hank is 100% capable of making a chair that would defy any disabled person’s wildest dreams. Except…. it’s apparently more important that we just make the chair “look cool”. Never mind that 1. It doesn’t, 2. WHEELCHAIRS THAT WORK FOR DISABLED PEOPLE ACTUALLY CAN LOOK COOL TOO!! WHAT A CONCEPT.
I am just sick and tired of the way disabled people are portrayed in film and media 99% of the time. Wheelchairs are not sick gadgets to do whatever the fuck you want with. They are actual mobility devices that millions of people use, and truthfully representing the lives of those people is important. And hey, wheelchairs are fucking cool! They don’t need art direction to make them be chill! They just need good design, that again, reflects the ACTUAL LIFE the character lives. These are MOBILITY ASSISTANCE DEVICES. They are their legs. It is completely impractical and inconsiderate to think that a disabled person should just hop from chair to chair whenever the need arises.
Well, that was almost a spiritual experience. Thank you for that, madneto. I learned a ton from your righteous wrath.
Once again, this post provides a handy guide for first-time wheelchair users for what to look for in fit.
Random aside that highlights the individuality of wheelchairs… I absolutely can’t use a manual wheelchair to propel myself because the problem that makes walking difficulty means that repetitive stress on my arms and shoulders is equally problematic. Like it’s easier for me to walk than use a manual wheelchair and that’s not saying much. For me the magic “perfect” chair would have to allow me to be upright or almost fully reclined, while allowing indoors, outdoors and stairs. As it is, I mostly stay home, use electric carts in grocery stores, and if I must travel, we rent a scooter and I end up in pain anyway due to the posture it requires. Thankfully I can still walk short distances, usually. But the right device is the difference between being housebound and being in the world.
‘I like the stealth suit from Cap 2. The dark, navy blue suit from the opening of Winter Soldier when I’m on the Lemurian Star, messing people up on that ship. And in the elevator! That’s my favorite. I have requested it every movie, but the people at Marvel really like a little red. They like a little red in there. Which is fine. It’s Cap; I get it.’ – Chris Evans
“True story: His Name is Robert Downey Jr.” by Dana Reinhardt
I’m willing to go out on a limb here and guess that most stories of kindness do not begin with drug addicted celebrity bad boys.
Mine does.
His name is Robert Downey Jr.
You’ve probably heard of him. You may or may not be a fan, but I am, and I was in the early 90’s when this story takes place.
It was at a garden party for the ACLU of Southern California. My stepmother was the executive director, which is why I was in attendance without having to pay the $150 fee. It’s not that I don’t support the ACLU, it’s that I was barely twenty and had no money to speak of.
I was escorting my grandmother. There isn’t enough room in this essay to explain to you everything she was, I would need volumes, so for the sake of brevity I will tell you that she was beautiful even in her eighties, vain as the day is long, and whip smart, though her particular sort of intelligence did not encompass recognizing young celebrities.
I pointed out Robert Downey Jr. to her when he arrived, in a gorgeous cream-colored linen suit, with Sarah Jessica Parker on his arm. My grandmother shrugged, far more interested in piling her paper plate with various unidentifiable cheeses cut into cubes. He wasn’t Carey Grant or Gregory Peck. What did she care?
The afternoon’s main honoree was Ron Kovic, whose story of his time in the Vietnam War that had left him confined to a wheelchair had recently been immortalized in the Oliver Stone film Born on the Fourth of July.
I mention the wheelchair because it played an unwitting role in what happened next.
We made our way to our folding chairs in the garden with our paper plates and cubed cheeses and we watched my stepmother give one of her eloquent speeches and a plea for donations, and there must have been a few other people who spoke but I can’t remember who, and then Ron Kovic took the podium, and he was mesmerizing, and when it was all over we stood up to leave, and my grandmother tripped.
We’d been sitting in the front row (nepotism has its privileges) and when she tripped she fell smack into the wheelchair ramp that provided Ron Kovic with access to the stage. I didn’t know that wheelchair ramps have sharp edges, but they do, at least this one did, and it sliced her shin right open.
The volume of blood was staggering.
I’d like to be able to tell you that I raced into action; that I quickly took control of the situation, tending to my grandmother and calling for the ambulance that was so obviously needed, but I didn’t. I sat down and put my head between my knees because I thought I was going to faint. Did I mention the blood?
Luckily, somebody did take control of the situation, and that person was Robert Downey Jr.
He ordered someone to call an ambulance. Another to bring a glass of water. Another to fetch a blanket. He took off his gorgeous linen jacket and he rolled up his sleeves and he grabbed hold of my grandmother’s leg, and then he took that jacket that I’d assumed he’d taken off only to it keep out of the way, and he tied it around her wound. I watched the cream colored linen turn scarlet with her blood.
He told her not to worry. He told her it would be alright. He knew, instinctively, how to speak to her, how to distract her, how to play to her vanity. He held onto her calf and he whistled. He told her how stunning her legs were.
She said to him, to my humiliation: “My granddaughter tells me you’re a famous actor but I’ve never heard of you.”
He stayed with her until the ambulance came and then he walked alongside the stretcher holding her hand and telling her she was breaking his heart by leaving the party so early, just as they were getting to know each other. He waved to her as they closed the doors. “Don’t forget to call me, Silvia,” he said. “We’ll do lunch.”
He was a movie star, after all.
Believe it or not, I hurried into the ambulance without saying a word. I was too embarrassed and too shy to thank him.
We all have things we wish we’d said. Moments we’d like to return to and do differently. Rarely do we get that chance to make up for those times that words failed us. But I did. Many years later.
I should mention here that when Robert Downey Jr. was in prison for being a drug addict (which strikes me as absurd and cruel, but that’s the topic for a different essay), I thought of writing to him. Of reminding him of that day when he was humanity personified. When he was the best of what we each can be. When he was the kindest of strangers.
But I didn’t.
Some fifteen years after that garden party, ten years after my grandmother had died and five since he’d been released from prison, I saw him in a restaurant.
I grew up in Los Angeles where celebrity sightings are commonplace and where I was raised to respect people’s privacy and never bother someone while they’re out having a meal, but on this day I decided to abandon the code of the native Angeleno, and my own shyness, and I approached his table.
I said to him, “I don’t have any idea if you remember this…” and I told him the story.
He remembered.
“I just wanted to thank you,” I said. “And I wanted to tell you that it was simply the kindest act I’ve ever witnessed.”
He stood up and he took both of my hands in his and he looked into my eyes and he said, “You have absolutely no idea how much I needed to hear that today.”
Did I fucking ask to start crying tonight. No. No I did not.
😢bless his heart…
Robert. xx
Omg. ❤
Anyone have a tissue?..
I always reblog this story, because as much as it’s about Robert, it’s also just as much about how you can make the choice to be kind, and that you never know just how much those kindnesses make an impact on the recipient of them.
before you ever even consider having a child you should be ready to handle a disabled child, you should be ready to handle twins, you should be ready to handle a gay child or a trans child
because if you’re not ready for your child to be anything other than one straight, cis, able bodied and able minded child, you’re going to end up neglecting and abusing somebody for years to come
and even if your child is all that, you might have a feminine boy or a masculine girl on your hands. so be fucking ready for your child to be a human being and not YOUR PRODUCT or PROPERTY or CREATION
fucking sort your shit out, i am so tired of shitty parental sob stories about how “hard” it is to “raise” (read: beat the divergency out of) an autistic child or whatever. do you know what’s harder? being the divergent child of parents who you’ve already let down by virtue of existing in a way they didn’t ask for. putting up with years of neglect and abuse because you’re just not good enough for them, you weren’t what they were planning for or expecting.
fun fact about the next avengers film being filmed in edinburgh: they’ve blocked off certain areas which is disrupting one specific postal van’s delivery route which is in turn leading to an awkward stand-off at the police station because Marvel Studios might be a billion dollar company but this man really wants to do his job and apparently interfering with the course of the Royal Mail technically counts as treason so they’re at a stalemate
knitting in the dark 