Transfixed

Director: Alon Kol
Release Year: 2014 

Alon Kol’s documentary Transfixed is one of those rare films that remind us how truth can be more layered, intimate, and moving than any fiction could hope to be. It tells the story of Martine Stonehouse and John Gelmon, two middle-aged Canadians living with Asperger syndrome who find companionship and love in one another despite the many obstacles that make their relationship unusual. On the surface, their life seems modest and unremarkable: Martine works as a janitor, John drives a bus, and together they share a small Toronto apartment filled with cats, vintage televisions, and an assortment of old license plates that Martine has collected over the years. Yet beneath that ordinary exterior lies a relationship that challenges conventions of gender, sexuality, and what it means to love someone completely.

 

Martine is a transgender woman who has lived openly as female since the mid-1990s. She is also an activist who once came close to receiving her long-awaited gender confirmation surgery, only to have her hopes dashed when government funding for such procedures was cut. For years, she has felt incomplete, caught in a kind of limbo between her inner truth and her physical reality. John, who also has Asperger’s as well as Tourette’s, loves her deeply but struggles with intimacy, especially the physical kind. His insistence that he will only marry Martine after she undergoes surgery becomes the central conflict of the documentary. It’s not framed as cruelty or conditional love but rather as a window into how both partners grapple with identity, desire, and their shared understanding of what a “proper” couple means.

 

Kol’s direction avoids sensationalism. He does not treat Martine and John as curiosities or subjects of pity but as complex individuals navigating a web of love, insecurity, and bureaucratic barriers. The film’s tone is gentle yet unsparing, capturing small domestic moments that reveal their personalities more deeply than any narration could. Their daily life is portrayed with unflinching honesty, from quiet dinners to awkward silences, from laughter to frustration. It is not about spectacle but about humanity.

 

One of the most striking parts of Transfixed is Martine’s determination to have surgery despite significant medical risks related to her weight. When a Montreal surgeon refuses to operate, she travels to Philadelphia to meet another doctor who offers blunt, sometimes uncomfortable advice. These scenes illustrate the layers of judgment that transgender people face, not only from society but also within the medical system. The doctor’s comments about Martine’s body, his emphasis on how she “should” look more feminine, highlight the persistence of rigid gender expectations. The film uses these encounters to expose how even supposedly supportive institutions can reinforce outdated norms of beauty and gender conformity.

 

Beneath the surface story of surgery and marriage lies a much more universal narrative about self-acceptance and human connection. Martine’s childhood was marked by loss, isolation, and bullying. Her passion for collecting objects seems to fill a void left by those early traumas, giving her control over a world that once rejected her. As she opens up about moments of despair and suicidal thoughts, Kol’s camera stays close but never intrusive. These confessions are not framed for shock value; instead, they unfold as part of a gradual, healing dialogue between Martine and the audience. The more she speaks, the more the viewer sees a woman who has rebuilt herself from the fragments of a painful past.

 

The film’s modest production quality works in its favor. The rough edges and sometimes confusing timeline mirror the chaos of real life rather than detracting from it. There are no glossy transitions or manipulative soundtracks, only the raw rhythm of two people struggling to make sense of their love. Kol understands that intimacy cannot be staged. What he captures instead is an authenticity rarely seen in portrayals of trans lives: the mix of tenderness, humor, awkwardness, and perseverance that defines long-term relationships everywhere.

 

Friendship and community also play crucial roles in Martine’s transformation. Her circle of friends, particularly those from the transgender and autistic communities, provides a foundation of strength and belonging. They remind her that identity is not just about physical change but also about emotional fulfillment and solidarity. With their encouragement and John’s reluctant but evolving support, she finds the courage to pursue the surgery she has waited decades for. Her triumph is not portrayed as a simple happy ending but as a milestone in an ongoing process of self-realization. Transfixed ultimately feels less like a documentary about gender transition and more like a study of human persistence. It challenges viewers to reconsider the boundaries of what love and normality mean. While Martine and John’s life may seem far removed from most people’s experiences, their struggles with communication, body image, and acceptance are profoundly relatable. The film invites empathy without asking for pity, reminding us that everyone is, in some way, searching for completeness.

 

By the end of the film, Martine emerges not only as a woman who has fought for her body but as a symbol of quiet defiance against systems that dictate who deserves happiness. John’s love, though imperfect, becomes part of that defiance, too. Together, they represent the possibility that connection can exist even in the most complicated circumstances. Transfixed is not polished or theatrical, but it does not need to be. Its power lies in its sincerity. Through the eyes of Martine Stonehouse, we see that love, like identity, is something we define for ourselves, often against the odds, and that the search for wholeness is, in the end, what makes us human.

 

via: youtube

cultmtl.com and imdb

Image credits: YouTube