Tina Kakadelis
The lives of transgender people have become a topic of much conversation in recent years. Unequivocally, trans rights are human rights. Mere days ago, Kansas sent out notices to trans residents that their licenses are now invalid and that the gender on their ID must match their sex at birth. It’s one part of a multi-pronged attack on the rights of trans people that is indefensibly cruel. Told through a collaborative lens, the SXSW-premiering Adam’s Apple is an essential piece of filmmaking about the transgender experience that opens the door to a family’s home in transition.
Adam’s Apple documents more than two decades of Adam’s life, from the time he’s about nine years old to his first day at college. Adam knows from a very young age that he’s a boy, much preferring to be called Harry (from Harry Potter) or Superman rather than his dead name. On his thirteenth birthday, his mother, Amy, who is primarily the one behind the camera, asks him what he wants for his birthday. Adam says that all he wants is for his dad to call him Adam, like everyone else does. Adam’s Apple is a shockingly intimate look at Adam’s adolescence and teenage years and the milestones of his gender transition.
“I’m doing everything I can to just be seen as one of the boys,” Adam says about wanting to fit in with the guys at school. Those who are against trans rights say they’re worried about the children and what happens if a kid starts to transition but regrets it later. Adam’s willingness to have the intimate parts of his life documented is compelling because the viewer gets to hear his story in his own words. There’s so much power in telling your story on a stage like SXSW. Adam has known for years, long before he’d even heard the word transgender, that he wanted to be a boy. How could one argue with that? It’s clear as day that when Adam is perceived in a way that matches how he feels, he’s a million pounds lighter. When he gets his first dose of testosterone, he can’t keep the smile from dancing across his face. What a beautiful thing it is to see Adam find joy as he becomes comfortable with himself.
Adam’s Apple isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. There are moments of strife within the family. Some of it is the typical teenage angst that plagues us all, but other parts are specific to raising a trans kid. If you take the emotional component out of the equation, the paperwork and medical appointments are overwhelming. Obviously, emotions can’t be removed, though, because Adam is the child of Amy and John. They had ideas and plans for their Adam that changed once he was able to vocalize his desires.
What the documentary does so well is show how the mementos from Adam’s childhood mean different things for each of them. A stocking with Adam’s old name on it is a reminder to him of a time when he felt painfully uncomfortable in his body and in the way people viewed him. For his mother, that same stocking is a reminder of Christmas morning and a kid who still believed in Santa and all the childlike wonder of the holidays. The open conversation between the two of them is another layer of understanding of the trans experience that more people need to become privy to. How do they remember Adam’s younger years when doing so hurts the young man they’re trying to remember?
Over the course of Adam’s Apple, the audience gets to watch Adam grow up. We see him go from fiddling around on a guitar to performing at an open mic night. We see his Jaws posters get replaced by Lady Bird and Call Me By Your Name. It’s a film about the passage of time and the way every moment is slipping through our hands as it’s happening. Adam’s Apple is an attempt to capture life’s beautiful, fleeting nature and the changes we all go through to find ourselves.
