Life After

Distributed by Good DocsProduced by Colleen Cassingham and Lyntoria NewtonDirected by Reid Davenport2025, Streaming, 99 mins "Her body was like a battlefield." This quote from Life After describes disabled activist Elizabeth Bouvia, who made headlines in the early 1980s when she took a California hospital to court in order to get legal grounds to force them to assist in her suicide. Elizabeth, almost completely dependent on others to live due to a body crippled by cerebral palsy and degenerative arthritis, no longer wanted to be alive. The judge ruled against Elizabeth, who became a sudden and involuntary Right to Die activist, forcing her to continue to live an existence she found painful, humiliating, and depressing. The question, "What does it cost for Elizabeth to be alive?" is hauntingly answered by her with "Nearly $150,000 a year (as of 1997), much of it coming from state and federally funded agencies. I just feel that this is a burden to society." That final sentence encapsulates so much of the central theme in this film of the struggle of disabled bodies to function in a society not built for them, the financial ramifications that being disabled brings, the lack of accessible and affordable healthcare, and the othering of people with disabilities by a largely unsympathetic able-bodied population. The film explores this theme through several interweaving storylines—first, that of Elizabeth Bouvia, of whom almost nothing was heard after her loss in the California Courts. The film's director, Reid Davenport, himself living with a physical, mobility-related disability, sets off on a quest to find out what happened to Elizabeth Bouvia after she left the spotlight, and hopefully speak to her himself. Another thread of the film is a look into Right to Die legislation in Canada, specifically MAID (Medical Assistance in Dying) legislation that allows people with disabilities who meet the specified criteria to go through with physician-assisted suicide. Initially, this seems like a win. After all, Elizabeth's own bodily autonomy and choice were taken away from her, so it feels as though progress is being made. However, the more the film looks into MAID and interviews disabled people considering physician assisted suicide, the more disturbing questions arise. One interviewee, whose mother was his lifelong caretaker, thinks to himself during her slow death from cancer, "I'm going to die shortly after." His lack of access to home help, especially during the Covid-19 pandemic, leads him to realize his only options are either to go into care, which he views—somewhat justifiably—as a prison sentence, or choosing to go through MAID. He doesn't want to die but feels it's his only option. In discussing a Canadian bill, C-7, disability activists point out their concern with MAID, that people with disabilities could be pressured by physicians and society to access MAID instead of receiving more costly supports and services. And that, at its heart, is where Life After truly shines, in pointing out uncomfortable truths about how society views people with disabilities, as people whose quality of life is greatly or entirely diminished, no matter what they themselves say, and as drains on resources that others might better benefit from. Davenport is an excellent person to raise and navigate these questions, and seeing the world through his eyes and his experiences is critical to truly understanding the questions that viewing this film provokes. What value do we place on different human lives? Who has a right to resources? And what options do we offer those whose bodies don't function as others' do? While heavy, these questions need to be asked and discussed, and Life After will leave you pondering these thoughts long after the film ends. Awards:U.S. Documentary Special Jury Award, Sundance Film Festival