Last year I found a recommendation at Christianity Today Movies for a documentary called Stevie. It was praised so highly that I knew I had to rent it. I finally did and after watching it last night, I haven’t thought about much else since. Stevie is a study of a young man who has lived in a kind of hell all of his life, and he bears the scars. The consequences are heartbreaking. Yet the film is not without hope. In the middle of this human wreckage, we see glimpses of the grace that might make a difference for people like Stevie.
“Stevie” is Stephen Fielding, a man from southern Illinois who is 23 when the film begins. The movie’s director is Steve James (Hoop Dreams) who served as a volunteer “big brother” to Stephen Fielding in the early 80s when James was in college and Fielding was a child. After college, James moved to Chicago and on to a career and family, while Stevie lived through years of sexual abuse, foster homes, and juvenile detention centers. Steve James decided to reconnect with Stevie after ten years, thinking he might produce a thirty-minute update on Stevie’s progress. Instead Stevie is a 140 minute foray into a torpedoed soul.
Shortly after the film begins, Stevie is accused of an appalling crime. The backdrop of the movie becomes Stevie’s slow walk through the justice system. But in the foreground is Stevie’s family, nearly all of whom have failed him in every way, and continue to do so, on camera. You get the sense that Stevie’s present pain is just an ugly repetition of his mother’s and grandmother’s before him. Both women appear in the film in all their wounded bitterness.
Why watch a movie like this? Because of the window it gives us into the damaged souls of many around us. This film pulls the viewer to within understanding distance of Stevie, but it doesn’t ask you to take his side. I thought about the painful ending for a long time and finally decided that there was no other way to deal with Stevie.
But more than this, watch Stevie for the grace. There is true grace in the way his fiancee Tonya loves him with a simple, unconditional love. She’s an angel in this story, almost untouched by the repulsive world surrounding her. (There is a startling five-minute sequence where Tonya sits by the bedside of her best friend Patricia and listens while Patricia speaks through her cerebral palsy a message of amazing courage, truth and love). There is grace in the way Stevie is received and loved unconditionally by a former foster couple. One wonders how different his life might have been had he been raised in their home. And there is grace in the way Stevie is treated by the director himself. Steve James comes to the sad conclusion that he can’t fix Stevie or his problems, yet James decides that he can at least continue to be Stevie’s friend.
In the end, all of this grace is too little or too late to save Stevie (at least for now). But it is clear in this film that this persistent, unrelenting grace is the only hope for Stevie or for any of us.
One scene rises above the others for me. Judy James, the director’s wife and a counselor, looks Stevie straight in the eye and tells him that she knows him for who he is and what he has done, and that she bears no illusions that everything is OK with him - yet she says that she cares about him anyway and is willing to help him find the power to change. That’s the gospel.
Stevie is rated R for rough language and descriptions of abuse.
Roger Ebert on Stevie
Interview with director Steve James