Book, film document Superman's recovery

By Bob Minzesheimer
USA Today

'Christopher Reeve: Courageous Steps' 9 tonight, ABC

Reeve smiles faintly at the notion, knowing that won't happen when he turns 50 Sept. 25. But he might perform what he calls his "party trick" — lifting his left index finger on command, the first sign of what he says is an unprecedented recovery.

Cheerfully defiant, he did just that during an interview last week at his home here amid the lush horse farms of northern Westchester County, N.Y., 35 miles north of Manhattan. He's sitting in his office, where prospective screenplays share shelf space with a tome titled "Spinal Cord Medicine."

It has been more than seven years since Reeve was paralyzed from the neck down when he was thrown from his horse in a riding competition in Virginia. In "Nothing Is Impossible: Reflections on a New Life "(Random House, $19.95), released yesterday, the actor and director describes how he has recovered some motion and sense of touch. Today, ABC airs "Christopher Reeve: Courageous Steps," shot over the past 18 months by his 22-year-old son, Matthew.

Four years ago, Reeve, the Superman of four films, was widely quoted as vowing he would walk by his 50th birthday, if not sooner. But, he says, "What I actually said was I hoped to stand to toast everyone who's helped me along the way."

And that, he says, was meant to push the researchers who have been limited by what Reeve, vice chairman of the National Organization on Disability, says is an unfair and politically motivated federal ban on therapeutic cloning, which uses stem cells from unfertilized human eggs.

He says, "Whether or not I stand on that day is less important than the lack of progress due to politics."

In person, Reeve looks older than on the cover of his book. He maintains an actor's interest in how he'll be photographed, requiring his own makeup artist and requesting that all photos be taken straight on or from his left to avoid showing the bar that supports the right side of his head. "It doesn't make for a good photo," he says.

His book, a collection of short essays, is personal and political. It deals with his testimony before Congress as well as his vigorous routine of physical therapy, as much as four hours a day, and the importance of humor.

"When things are really bad, you have to laugh," he writes, repeating a "sick joke" he heard in 1995:

"What's the difference between Christopher Reeve and O.J. Simpson?"

"O.J. walks."

Reeve still relies on a ventilator to breathe and on aides to get him in and out of his wheelchair, feed him and bathe him. He says he gets depressed "but never chronically or clinically. It's never been debilitating. I've found ways to break out of it."

There are many things he can't do, but Reeve has been surprised "to learn over the years how much control I have over myself and my situation." Each day he's supposed to start physical therapy at a low heart rate and finds, "I can do that with mental control. I tilt back in the chair, clear my mind and just chill."

Conventional medical wisdom has it that any recovery from spinal injuries occurs within three years or not at all. Reeve's began five years after his accident and has been linked by his doctor to physical therapy that includes electrically stimulating his muscles.

"Physical therapy is a way to control my future," Reeve says. "I don't want to decay. I don't want to look down at my legs and see toothpicks. That's not vanity. That's self-respect. It's a sign of mental and emotional health."

When he titled the book "Nothing Is Impossible," he didn't mean that "pigs can fly," as he puts it. "It really means we don't know. Scientists don't know, and patients don't know what can be achieved."

When he's not exercising or giving speeches (200 in the past six years), Reeve stays interested in moviemaking. He has directed an HBO movie ("In the Gloaming") and starred in ABC's remake of Alfred Hitchcock's "Rear Window." He also says he has two directing projects in the works but won't go into details.

He says he turned down requests from several award-winning documentary filmmakers, not "wanting the invasion of privacy." But he agreed to let his camera-loving son have unlimited access. "I thought it would help him start his career."

Matthew, the oldest of Reeve's three children, grew up in England with his mother, and the film was a chance to spend time together. Matthew began filming when he was a student at Brown University. As Matthew says, "I needed something to film, and he came to mind."

Reeve figured the result might end up at film festivals or on cable. Instead, Matthew rounded up financial backing and sold it to ABC; 140 hours of footage turned into a 43-minute documentary.

"I tried to be as objective as possible," Matthew says, adding that the work is not intended as a son's tribute to his father. Reeve provides the only narration, looking into the camera at times to explain what he's thinking.

Matthew hates the subtitle "Courageous Steps," but he says it's the "best of the worst" proposed by ABC. "They wanted to call it 'I Will Walk Again' or 'Will He Walk Again?' " which Matthew says he finds "cheesy and inappropriate, but they're the network."

They plan two more documentaries that follow Reeve's recovery. Matthew will start filming the second one at his father's birthday celebration, a benefit at a New York hotel for the Christopher Reeve Paralysis Foundation.

Turning 50 confined to — "but not defined by" — a wheelchair has its consolations, Reeve says. "If I was on my feet, I'd be worrying about becoming a senior citizen or having my tennis serve slow down. But when you've hit rock bottom at 42, when you've had a near-death experience and lived through it and feel you're making progress, 50 doesn't seem so scary."