some notes: this is a formal review which will sound different from most of my ramblings
During the post-screening Q&A session, director Sarah Friedland was asked, “Is there a particular reason you decided on the title “Familiar Touch”? To me, it seemed extremely unfamiliar.”
Curiously enough, the person asking this question had a point. Friedland’s debut brings us along with Ruth, an octogenarian who adjusts to a new chapter of her life in Bella Vista, an assisted living facility for the elderly. She moves from her homey, bookshelf-laden Brooklyn house to Level 3 of Bella Vista dubbed “Memory Lane”, very much befitting the ailment that afflicts Ruth and her floormates: dementia.
For the most part, she remains in denial. She recites an in-depth Borscht recipe from memory to her doctor and insists on retaining her independence in Bella Vista to prove she’s still in control of her mental faculties. It does little to reassure those around her, though. She mistakes her son, Steve, for a potential suitor and struggles to list words starting with ‘F’ during her weekly checkups. Sounds like life for Ruth feels pretty unfamiliar, right?
Well, Friedland doesn’t think so. Her conception of the title actually originated with the aforementioned interaction between Ruth and Steve, just through a different lens.
“For many people with memory loss, they might not know who a person is, but sometimes they can sense that someone is unfamiliar or familiar. In the case of Steve, it’s Ruth feeling a kinship with him, even if it’s the wrong type of intimacy she expresses. It’s wanting to honour that closeness, even if it’s the wrong type of closeness.”
Part of it also comes down to the way Friedland portrays the five senses in Familiar Touch (2024), particularly – you guessed it – touch. Though Ruth’s mental decline is inevitable, her inner world remains just as rich. And what she cannot express in words, she compensates for by expressing through movement, through cooking, through interacting with her environment. It’s a reminder that the elderly are more than their conditions and the various stereotypes associated with senility.
Familiar Touch (2024) treats the subject with a lightness and playfulness that is hard to find in most cinematic portrayals of ageing and dementia. It’s sentimental only when it needs to be, and the comedy never feels as if we’re cheaply laughing at Ruth, merely with her.
In many ways, the film portrays a youth that defies its aged characters. Many of its scenes mirror those in teenage slice-of-life films, like when Ruth participates in a speed dating event or runs away from the Bella Vista home. It’s probably not so far-fetched to say that she had similar episodes in her younger days, memories of which were gradually chipped away by her condition. It makes you wonder if perhaps, that’s the beauty in it–being able to experience it all for the first time again.
Friedland reframes the typical narrative of decline into an optimistic coming-of-(old)-age story by embracing the growing pains of ageing, yet refraining from letting them control the narrative. Instead, she breathes life into Ruth’s being and shows us that her joy lies in embracing the present, regardless of the challenges she may face. Plus, Friedland’s past experiences as a caregiver for artists with dementia lend her portrayals some credibility and form part of her motivation to consistently advocate for the elderly and their agency.
However, this empowerment of the aged manifests in many ways beyond the screen alone. Interestingly, Friedland invited residents of the retirement community that served as the movie set to partake in the filmmaking process, where they helped with production design, prop making and editing. “This movie wouldn’t be what it is without them.”
In truth, many things wouldn’t be what they are now without the aged. Imagine our societies without their presence; without centuries of tradition and knowledge passed down by our elders.
Even our lives wouldn’t be the same without this precious period of ageing. Friedland wants to emphasise this: that coming of (old) age is far from something to dread or despise – it’s something to celebrate.
- j