Review: 'Parenthood' - 03/09/2010

I have a 21-year-old nephew who is profoundly autistic. He's not another "Rainman," he doesn't have some magical mathematical talent like you see portrayed in so many Hollywood stories. He's a three-year-old trapped in a man's body. He's never going to live on his own, or hold a job or enjoy the simple things that so many of us take for granted. His life is defined by a few TV shows, a couple of trusted teachers and the family home he'll probably live in until my brother and his wife grow too old to care for him.

I understand in the abstract that autism probably doesn't have a direct genetic link. But when my son Sam was born nearly five years ago, I worried that some aspect of autism would show up in his behavior. When he was diagnosed with Celiac disease, it was a problem I could work with. A life without wheat or barley is not nearly as tough as it used to be. And when he began having some delays in speech, my wife and I worked with him to improve. Because it was a definable challenge that responded well to predictable exercises.

But by the time Sam was three, it was clear that he faced some other challenge. He just seemed "off" in a way that was difficult to define. He didn't react the way you might expect when faced with an unknown social situation. He sometimes stared off in an oddly lost way even when he was in a crowd. When we had him screened by the local school district, they suspected he had a milder form of Autism called Asperger’s Syndrome. Not classic autism exactly, but he would face a childhood filled with social and personal challenges.

I stayed strong throughout the day, assuring my wife and everyone else that Sam would be fine. Then I would sit on the floor at night next to his bed and cry. Not because I feared Sam wouldn't have a normal life. Because odds are that he'll be independent and social and successful. I cried because I thought it was my fault. I cried because I wanted to protect him from the world and the pain I knew he would suffer as he learned to conquer his problems.

Having a child with Asperger's is knowing that your life will be filled with equal parts of joy and sadness. You'll embrace the small victories and concentrate on the days when things go just perfectly. Then there are the days when your child is overwhelmed or moody over some problem you can't decipher. You learn patience and force yourself to not cling too tightly to your child. You try and explain his condition to friends and family who just can't seem to grasp the situation. You live each day as fully as you can. But you never forget that tomorrow may bring some challenge you won't even see coming.

I held off writing about NBC's new drama Parenthood because one of the core story lines involves a couple slowly realizing that their son has Asperger's. I held off watching the pilot for weeks, then when I did I wasn't sure that I could figure out a way to properly review it.

I'll leave it to others to talk about the show in general. Although I will say that it's a wonderfully written and acted series. But what I can speak to more than most is the portrayal of young Max Braverman (played by Max Burkholder, Brother and Sisters).

I could quibble about some of the details of his story. For instance, it's difficult to believe that he could be in grade school and not have been screened at some point for Autism. But putting aside those issues, the character of Max is written in a way that is instantly recognizable to any parent facing these same issues.

There is a scene towards the end of the first episode when Max and his father Adam (Peter Krause, Six Feet Under) are standing outside of a recital being given by a family member. Max is happily splashing in the mud and Adam's hard-ass father Zeek (Craig T. Nelson) comes outside to ask why Adam and Max aren't inside watching the show.

Adam explains that Max can't go in because there are candles inside. And Max won't walk past candles. Zeek just can't comprehend the problem--it sounds childish and silly. He keeps making comments until Adam turns to him with tears in his eyes. And he says "Dad...there's something wrong with Max....There's something wrong and I'm going to need your help."

My wife and I have been there. Those moments when everything is wrong with the world and it all seems so unfair. But that episode of Parenthood ends with another moment that any parent who has a child with Asperger's would recognize. Max unexpectedly asks to play baseball and rejoin "his team." It's those moments of surprise and normalcy that make it all worthwhile.

In tonight's episode, Max's parents are faced with the official diagnosis of Asperger's and I won't ruin the plot twists and turns. But I will say that it's another example of the painful joy that my wife and I have experienced in the past several years.

Jason Katims is an executive producer and the showrunner of Parenthood and he has a child with Asperger's. In interviews, he has said that he wanted to portray Asperger's in as accurate a light as possible. If the first two episodes are any indication, he has succeeded completely.

Parenthood isn't easy for me to watch. But there's something comforting in being reminded that my wife and I aren't alone in this. Other families have gotten through this and we will too.

I don't want to make Parenthood sound self-important or stuffy. For the majority of viewers, it's going to be nothing more than a well-made drama that's worth watching every week. But "Parenthood" also offers viewers a small window into the world of Asperger's. When you see those scenes, know that there are a lot of families out there living out these moments in real life.