LOS ANGELES — It is pronounced “human.” Yet writer-director Siân Heder readily acknowledges that the unusual spelling of the title of her new movie, “Being Heumann,” is something audiences might give a puzzled second look. Viewers might find themselves momentarily unsure of how to say it, or worse, dismissing it altogether.
Which, the more she sat with it, made it the perfect title for a cinematic portrait of real-life disability rights activist Judy Heumann. A lifelong wheelchair user, Heumann lived a life that made her utterly undismissable.
More specifically, Heder’s film zeroes in on a pivotal chapter of modern civil rights history: the historic 1977 protest where Heumann led a coalition in a grueling 26-day sit-in at a federal office building in San Francisco. The demonstration continued relentlessly until the federal government finally agreed to enforce Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973—marking the very first federal law that formally recognized disability as a protected civil rights category.
“The fact that her last name was ‘human’ has so many beautiful layers of meaning,” Heder reflected during a recent interview in Los Angeles. “I think Judy was asking for the world to see disabled people as human beings who were worthy of rights and being looked at and being included.”
Following a high-profile world premiere as the opening-night selection of the Toronto International Film Festival in September, “Being Heumann” is slated to hit theaters on Nov. 6 before making its streaming debut on Apple TV on Nov. 13. Crucially, the project also marks Heder’s first feature film since her 2021 triumph, “CODA.” That bittersweet drama followed a hearing teenager in a Deaf family—with the title functioning as an acronym for “child of Deaf adults”—and went on to capture three Academy Awards, including best picture and a screenplay win for Heder herself.
In Heumann, who began using a wheelchair after contracting polio as a child, Heder found a subject navigating a profound personal evolution: discovering herself as a leader, learning the delicate balance of holding firm to her convictions, and understanding when to cede ground in order to empower others. For a filmmaker grappling with the dizzying, unexpected fallout of massive international success, that internal journey felt deeply familiar.
“I think I was making a movie about myself, honestly,” Heder said. “When you’re moving forward on a massive project or a movement or anything, there’s a necessary drive and ambition and focus that is needed. And if you look at any major change that’s happened in human history, it takes a certain kind of person to push that through. I’m not identifying myself with great leaders of the civil rights movement, but directing a movie is a similar thing.”
Life After the Oscars and Finding a New Path Forward
Heder spoke from a quiet corner of a busy coffee shop in Los Angeles’s Eagle Rock neighborhood, where she has lived for years. Amidst the interview, she was in the middle of moving from one historic house to an even older one just a few blocks away. Determined not to disrupt the education of her two young children, ages 10 and 12, and deeply rooted in the local community, leaving the neighborhood was never an option.
Community is a concept that surfaces frequently in conversation with Heder, who carries herself with a warm demeanor and quiet self-possession. Though “CODA” propelled her into global prominence, she was far from a newcomer when she helmed the film. She previously earned a Peabody Award as a writer on the television series “Men of a Certain Age” and served as a writer, director, and producer on the critically acclaimed Netflix series “Orange Is the New Black.” Earlier in her career, she expanded her 2006 short film “Mother” into her feature directorial debut, “Tallulah,” which premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in 2016.
Winning an Oscar, however, triggered a cascade of changes, both monumental and mundane. At first, Heder placed the coveted statuette on her home desk, but she eventually had to move it because she began to feel the golden figure’s crossed arms quietly judging her as she worked. When she drove herself to the Spirit Awards the year after “CODA’s” historic sweep and spontaneously offered a ride to an after-party to fellow industry heavyweights Maggie Gyllenhaal and Ebon Moss-Bachrach, Heder realized her reliable, 10-year-old Subaru was no longer going to cut it.
“I have a nicer car now,” she laughed, recalling the memory. “It’s baby steps.”
The day after the Oscars, Heder recalls being overwhelmed by emotion, unable to stop crying as months of intense campaigning, press events, and post-screening Q&As finally caught up with her, releasing a massive build-up of pressure.
She notes that two distinct shifts occurred almost immediately after her victory. The first was an overwhelming sense of heightened expectation—an internal pressure to make the most of whatever doors the moment might open.
“This was not a part of my plans,” she said. “I didn’t ever intend to have so many eyeballs turn to me and go, ‘What are you doing now?’”
The second change was a sudden, staggering influx of material and incoming career opportunities. Heder revealed that she met with Marvel representatives “so many times” regarding various high-profile properties, but none of them felt creatively aligned with her artistic voice. As an independent filmmaker, she explains, you are accustomed to “always pushing against the no,” driving projects forward against seemingly impossible odds. Suddenly, however, she had to become the resistance—the person tasked with asking whether a prospective venture was genuinely worthwhile.
“Suddenly there are a lot of voices chiming in too because your reps have an idea of what you should do next and the industry has an idea of what you should do next,” Heder noted. “And it was really important for me to center myself back in a feeling of: I’ve always been drawn to stories because they move me. And that hasn’t changed.”
Her Oscars triumph also coincided with the infamous night of the Will Smith and Chris Rock on-stage altercation, an incident that dominated subsequent media coverage. Fully tuned into internet culture, Heder is well aware that some cynical film fans might want to place an asterisk next to “CODA’s” historic wins, attributing its success to a COVID-era anomaly or viewing it as the first streaming service film to capture Hollywood’s top prize with a grain of salt.
“There’s definitely an element of: ‘She manipulated everyone with that movie. She made us all cry and that’s why she won,’” Heder said, her voice carrying an edge of quiet defiance. “I was an indie filmmaker that was compelled to tell that story. And then audiences embraced that story and that story took off in a way that was unexpected and surprising even for me.”
Bringing Judy Heumann’s Legacy to the Screen
Heder had actually begun developing “Being Heumann” long before “CODA” ever premiered. After a friend urged her to watch the acclaimed 2020 documentary “Crip Camp,” which prominently features Heumann, the filmmaker was so deeply moved that she immediately followed up by reading Heumann’s 2020 memoir.
She sent Heumann a cold email expressing passionate interest in securing the adaptation rights. As fate would have it, Heumann was in the process of deciding who should helm the cinematic adaptation of her life story that very day. Handed a last-minute opportunity to pitch herself, Heder promised that she would authentically cast performers with disabilities, mirroring the casting philosophy she championed on “CODA.” That commitment secured her the job.
Heder spent two rigorous years researching and developing the project alongside Heumann, conducting in-depth interviews with dozens of individuals who participated in the actual Carter-era federal protests. When Heumann passed away unexpectedly in 2023, Heder initially doubted whether she could emotionally continue the work. It was “Crip Camp” co-director James LeBrecht who ultimately convinced her to press on.
“I think Judy’s death, which was sudden—it made me feel like she had left her legacy in my hands,” Heder remembered.
After developing several other post-Oscar scripts that failed to materialize as her immediate follow-up feature, Heder suddenly found herself in the enviable, if stressful, position of having two major projects greenlit simultaneously: “Being Heumann” at Apple and an adaptation of Gabrielle Zevin’s bestselling novel “Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow” at Paramount.
Grappling with how to choose between them, she attended a meeting regarding the relaunch of the Village Theater in Westwood, where she found herself sharing coffee with legendary filmmaker Guillermo del Toro. She asked him how he navigated deciding between multiple promising projects.
“And he said, ‘Make the movie that can’t get made without you,’” she recalled. “And that was very clarifying for me. When you are the element that gets that story told, it takes on an importance and urgency.”
Confirming instincts she already felt, Del Toro’s advice solidified her resolve to push forward with “Being Heumann.” She is currently actively prepping her adaptation of “Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow,” ensuring there will not be another five-year hiatus between her directorial releases.
“I was having a rare moment of power in the industry to push something forward,” Heder said, “and it felt like there was a path to go make a big paycheck and have that kind of jump up, or I could use that moment of power and success to try to push through the hardest project I could think of. It was in that moment, after ‘CODA,’ where I really realized: I could make this incredibly difficult movie that no one might make.”
Following what Heder playfully describes as “the casting Olympics,” the production ultimately cast BAFTA-nominated actor Ruth Madeley, a wheelchair user, to anchor the film in the lead role. Principal photography for “Being Heumann” took place in Toronto, utilizing a meticulously constructed soundstage designed to replicate the San Francisco federal office building where the historic sit-in unfolded.
“Hollywood might be the least accessible industry out there,” Heder observed, detailing the extensive accommodations required to support a cast and crew featuring performers with a wide array of disabilities. Custom-built trailers were engineered, and production sets had to be retrofitted for accessibility in ways standard filming locations rarely are. An dedicated accessibility team oversaw everything from large-scale logistical planning to the individual personal needs of background actors.
Rather than structuring the film as a conventional biographical sweep, Heder deliberately focused the narrative on the specific narrative arc of the 504 sit-in, building out a rich ensemble cast of characters to surround Heumann.
“I said, it’s almost like ‘Bad News Bears’ and ‘Dog Day Afternoon’ together,” Heder explained. “There’s an underdog-sports-team feeling and bank-heist-gone-wrong.”
When a filmmaker friend jokingly asked if making films centered on disability was now becoming her signature “thing,” it was a question Heder had already weighed herself.
“Of course it was on my mind if it starts to feel like: Oh, is Siân Heder a social justice warrior who’s just out to try to make these movies that have some kind of message behind them,” she said preemptively. “But I think this is just a great story. Outside of disability, outside of anything else, it is a great story.”
Heder remains deeply drawn to narratives exploring outsiders, class dynamics, and individuals routinely ignored or pushed to the fringes of society. Maintaining a genuine connection to a broader community remains vital to both her personal life and her artistic output.
Recalling a recent conversation with her daughter, Heder smiled. “My daughter said to me the other day, ‘Mom, I think you’re the right kind of famous because you are important to people who know who you are, but you can still just be in the world and be anonymous. And I think there’s something true about that.’”
That perspective suggests her daughter has inherited her mother’s deep well of empathy—one far more concerned with bringing unseen, necessary stories to the screen than with pursuing superficial fame or industry clout.
“‘Earnest’ has become a dirty word,” Heder reflected. “And what earnest actually means is direct and truthful.”
© 2026 Los Angeles Times. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.
