Well, it could have been, if not for the guy they chose to do all that running around -- Everts himself. His interactions with the families don't have to be long and wordy because they are honest, human, and beautifully constructed -- and because Everts avoids the traps of this kind of filmmaking -- insipid narration, icky empathy, lingering fadeouts, tears for the sake of tears.

What you get instead are vivid glimpses of high-functioning kids and adults, full-syndrome kids who do or don't respond to various treatments, siblings who are coping or not (the one who really, really wants her sister to stop talking about "dictators" all the time is priceless), tales of bullying and acceptance and all the rest (including the stunning comment from a Muslim mom that a bystander compared her son to a terrorist during a meltdown).

You have to admire the sheer energy and intelligence that shines through -- not just the geographic pace, but the smart decision to whack the daylights out of just about every interview and leave the nubbin, whether it's two or three minutes or two or three sentences.

At one point, Everts arrives in New York City to interview Ezra Susser of the Mailman School of Public Health at Columbia University. Setting up the interview, driving  into New York, getting into the building, setting up the camera, making smalltalk, doing the interview, then doing it all in reverse ... that's a lot of work (and money) for only a minute or so of film.

But it's quite a minute. Here is a guy with gravitas saying that you might be able to discount half of the increase in autism due to better diagnosis, etc., but you're left with a fivefold increase. Fivefold! I might pick at that number, but it's a great thing to get on film and a great person to get it from. You don't have to go on about the epidemic after that; you just know that the people you're meeting in this film had no comparison just a couple of decades ago. Enough said, so to speak.

For me, the best scenes in the movie are Everts' interactions with the kids and their sibs: sword-fighting with them in the living room -- I can hear my mother yell, you could put your eye out with that thing! -- spraying a delighted boy with a garden hose in the driveway, etc. Yes, it's set up to happen, but it comes across as fun, not fake. 

Some of the kids say wise things into his camera, but some are just, well, kids. There's one little boy trying to say what his sibling's autism means for him. "It's like well, it's like, it's like," says the boy, about 10 times. He's just too young to be able to say anything, and the way Everts shakes with laughter is, to me, the best moment in the movie. Autism isn't funny, but life still is.

Everts' appreciation for these families is a mirror of his own life back home in Pennsylvania with Sugey and their severely affected 14-year-old, Tommy. We see an evolution in Everts' approach to his son -- aided by a remarkable family reunion -- that is subtle and unforced but deeply moving.

Oh, and about causation? There was enough for me. Lin Wessels: "I believe Sam's autism was caused by the mercury in vaccines." Thank you, Ma'am! (And thanks for wearing the Age of Autism T-shirt -- so did another parent.) Tim Welsh talks about vaccines, and so does Dan Burton. (Everts went to Washington because he had appointments to see several movers and shakers, all of whom canceled. So let's not hear any whining from the "experts" about who he talked to and who he didn't.)

Sugey said afterwards that more and more screenings are being set up -- the one we went to was sold out, and I can see why. Word of mouth on this movie must be great. She also talked about getting Oscar consideration -- which requires being in a theater for a week each in New York and Los Angeles. Regardless of what happens, I think we'll be hearing -- and seeing -- more from the Everts.

I for one can't wait.

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