There's something rather glorious about Roleplay, an untidy doc about messy people tackling a difficult to talk about subject with surprising candor and a commitment to hard truths. 

I loved the film, though it feels a little weird to say that I loved a film dealing with sexual violence. 

But, there you go. I did. 

I'm a paraplegic/double amputee in my 50's. I've lived far longer than anyone expected in a body that has experienced more than its share of violence including that of a sexual nature. It is not inaccurate to say that my body has been raped far more than it has been loved. 

I fully expect that one day I will die that way. 

It's just the way it is. 

I found myself drawn to Roleplay rather intensely. In the film, a group of Tulane University students spend a year creating an immersive play from their real-life experiences. Faced with rampant sexual violence on their college campus, these young adults build characters and scenes based on the sexual politics of their campus. 

The result? Mesmerizing. Disturbing. Urgent. Powerful. Vulnerable. 

Roleplay explores our roles - those that hinder us, those that heal us, those that knock us down, those that build us back up, those that perpetuate cycles, and those that break cycles. 

Roleplay triggered me. However, it didn't trigger me in the ways you might expect. I mean, sure, Roleplay triggered memories of my abuse and more than a little grief borne out of an early life filled with immense trauma. However, Roleplay also brought to the forefront of my mind those precarious initial steps toward healing, claiming a different identity, breaking the codes of silence, telling secrets, learning how to love my body scars and all, and figuring out love in a body that was damaged enough to be a constant reminder of the past. 

Community was essential to my healing. Community, especially through my activism, is still essential to my healing. I have a feeling that Roleplay director Katie Mathews would understand this as would, quite likely, those who participated in this creative, communal journey that created opportunities for healing and redefining of culture. 

The film was a collaboration between college students, members of Goat in the Road theater company, and others both in front of and behind the camera. 

Yet, the brilliance of Roleplay is very likely the same reason some won't resonate with it. The stories that come to life here are messy and true, less black-and-white and more filled with kaleidoscopic grays. 

I very recently completed a 150-mile wheelchair journey, a one-year post-cancer survivor's journey that was both celebration and grief ritual. It was a reminder of my body's life journey and the norms, not just those of sexual violence but also of being someone with significant disabilities, that I've lived with and that I've spent most of my life working to reverse. At one point, one of my road support people became aware that my urostomy, which I acquired last year as part of my cancer journey, needed support and in a remarkable act of tenderness offered the needed support. 

Less than a month later, I remain deeply moved by this simple gesture of kindness and gentleness and care. It reminded me, perhaps, that while in many ways my body feels as if it has been defined by sexual violence that perhaps, at least in fleeting moments, this is not true. 

I have no doubt that Roleplay, for those who experience it, will lead to reflection, remembrance, conversation, and, perhaps most importantly, common ground. Easily one of my favorite docs in 2024, Roleplay is in the midst of its Midwest premiere at the 2024 Heartland International Film Festival in Indianapolis. Here's hoping the unforgettable doc finds the audience it deserves. 

Written by Richard Propes
The Independent Critic