“Room to Move” is an astonishing documentary by Alexander Hammer about acclaimed choreographer, performer, and educator Jenn Freeman, following her diagnosis of adult autism spectrum disorder (ASD) at age 33. We see Freeman as she experiences the overwhelming ramifications of absorbing such news. “I feel scared,” she tells her therapist. “I didn’t know it was going to be this hard learning all this about myself.” In an extraordinary act of courage and generosity, Freeman allowed Hammer to create an intensely intimate portrait of her process.

“Room to Move” screens on August 8 at the Grange Hall, followed by a discussion with executive producers and seasonal residents Amy Schumer and Chris Fischer, Hammer, and Freeman herself. The documentary begins with what appears to be an ultrasound of a pregnant mother, accompanied by the voice of an anonymous medical professional describing the baby as looking good and “normal.” However, the onscreen transcription of the voice then morphs into the term “neurodivergent,” defining it as “differing in mental or neurological function from what is considered typical or normal. ASD is a complex developmental condition involving ongoing challenges in social interaction, speech, nonverbal communication, and restrictive/repetitive behaviors.”

From that moment on we are immersed in Freeman’s life as she faces a flood of realizations and faces many obstacles along the way. The central theme of the film is Freeman’s understanding that her entire life, which has revolved around dance since she was a toddler, relates to ASD. Her choreography, noteworthy for its precise and often repetitive movements, has been a way for Freeman to cope with a lifetime of sensory overload, social discomfort, pain, and unspoken questions about her perception of the world. Movement has always been Freeman’s language — leaping, spinning, and squirming through a world that often feels too loud, too fast, and simply too much. She says, “When I was little, I loved how it felt when I was dizzy. It made everything disappear, literally.”

Reflecting on her art form, Freeman explains, “It’s my talent and the way I connect with people … But I think I became obsessed with dance possibly just because I’m autistic, that it was helpful for me in ways that I am just now understanding.” She also realizes that dancing has always been a sanctuary where nothing else exists. “But I’m also going to a place of ignoring my needs completely [because] dance has an element of pushing.” And that need to push, push, push ultimately leaves no room for emotions.

Although we are engrossed in Freeman’s stealth-like accuracy and grace when she dances, she has lost the desire to do so.

Although the film is a narrative journey, it is also a stunning work of art. Hammer shuffles candid footage of Freeman during her daily life as she tries to cope with her diagnosis. We see her emotional struggles, powerful role as a dance teacher, candid conversations during therapy, and revealingly honest conversations with her husband, close friends, and family. There are also home movies of Freeman as a child, where, with our growing understanding of her autism, we might be able to detect early signs of ASD.

Hammer knits the disparate pieces with Freeman’s creation of a mesmerizing multimedia dance performance, which she decides to make as a means of self-discovery and to help others. Freeman says, “The way I found out about myself is that someone had the courage to share their story. That’s why I want to make this show.” Later she adds, “I’ve always understood the world around me and my place in it by making dance. I’ve learned so much. I want to share it with the world.”

Hammer also includes clips of Freeman’s project over the three years it takes to come to fruition, all while she deals with debilitating depression, panic attacks, ongoing physical injury, and the realization that her drinking is a problem. At one point, Freeman admits, “I’m happier when I’m moving more, but literally the last thing I want to do is move.” She swings between being utterly paralyzed and incredibly productive. 

As she develops the evening-long performance with Tony Award-winning choreographer Sonya Tayeh, Freeman begins to unearth the memories, sensations, and patterns that have shaped her to create a mesmerizing, innovative work of art. But most important, we witness the truth of what she says: “As a newly diagnosed autistic person, I’m rediscovering myself in real time as the show is coming together.”

Unlike as in most documentaries, Hammer becomes part of his film. Early on he shares his motive for doing so. “This project is different. My whole career is about what performance gives to the audience. I always wanted to explore what performance gives back to the artists themselves.” However, as filming continues, Hammer unexpectedly begins to resonate with Freeman’s journey, prompting him to turn the camera inward and examine his own experiences. What starts as a portrait of an artist gradually unfolds into a deeper, more personal picture of neurodivergence, self-discovery, and the quiet strength that comes from embracing your truth.

“Room to Move” screens at 7:30 pm on August 8 at the Grange Hall, followed by a discussion with executive producers Amy Schumer and Chris Fischer, director Alexander Hammer, and film subject Jenn Freeman. For pay-what-you-can tickets, visit circuitarts.org/roomtomove. For ASD resources visit roomtomovefilm.com/resources.