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‘Stronger’ writer digs for the truth behind a hero’s pain and uncovers the love story beneath

“It was clear,” writes John Pollono, “that the only way to do this movie--to avoid everyone I grew up with from hating me for writing a cliched version and screwing up a local tragedy--was to be as raw and honest as possible.”
(Mel Melcon/Los Angeles Times)
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My first big studio job as a screenwriter was to write the story of Jeff Bauman, a Boston local who became an unwitting symbol of hope after losing both legs above the knee in the Boston Marathon bombing. Coincidentally, he is from Chelmsford, Mass., about a half-hour from where I grew up.

Although I had a book to work from (“Stronger,” written by Jeff with Bret Witter soon after the bombing), it was clear that there was a lot more to the story than what was on those pages. It was also clear that the only way to do this movie — to avoid everyone I grew up with from hating me for writing a cliched version and screwing up a local tragedy — was to be as raw and honest as possible. It was clear I needed to meet Jeff and his family and get to know the real people.

As soon as I landed at Logan airport, Jeff texted me to swing by his house to meet some of his friends and family. He was zipping around in his wheelchair, cracking jokes and keeping everyone entertained. He tossed me a beer while his then-girlfriend Erin Hurley moseyed around the kitchen, her pregnant belly stretching against her shirt, as she made me a plate of food.

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“Wahlberg’s not gonna play me, is he?” Jeff asked. “I’m too young, right?”

The next morning, Jeff gave me the tour of his town and at night we hit the local bars. He told me to ask him anything, “Don’t hold back.” But a few hurdles soon became apparent. Jeff is a New Englander — culturally speaking, we don’t naturally open up. And when he did talk, it was to project the version of himself he thought the world (and the script) needed him to be. A wise-cracking, carefree small-town guy’s guy who’s doing OK. It wasn’t hard to see the exhaustion and the pain underneath. Or, in dark flickers, the PTSD. He wasn’t intentionally hiding himself; he knew that his story was important to tell and that it could affect people. It was more like he was sitting on the lid of his suffering, keeping it crammed in, still too terrified to shine a bright light on it.

I wondered if I could learn more about Jeff through his friends and family. Scott Silver, one of the film’s producers and an experienced writer, gave me some valuable advice about interviewing people:

“Buy them lunch.”

I bought a lot of lunches. Hours and hours of recorded interviews, notes, visits. I felt more like a journalist than a writer at times, chasing the elusive truth. It was easy to be around Jeff’s friends and family. As a local, I immediately had their trust.They took me in and took care of me. But Jeff was so good at hiding his pain and struggle, most of them didn’t know the full story either.

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Erin and Jeff’s baby was born while I was in town. When they came home with their new daughter, they asked me to visit (my wife recommended I bring gourmet cupcakes). I sat in the living room, rocking the sleeping baby while Jeff played video games and Erin, tired, in a robe, eating a cupcake, asked how the research was going. I told her that I was having trouble getting to the truth.

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“What kind of truth?”

“The details nobody wanted in the book. The pain, the sadness, the intimacy. The real life stuff that will make the story feel real.”

She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, sighed, then told me about the first time she saw Jeff’s stumps. He usually hid them, but now they were out, almost as if he was testing to see her reaction upon seeing the bone-deep scars, the stitching, the new shape of him. She knew he was watching her closely and that her reaction would define his acceptance of his new body. So she took a moment to really look at the stumps, understand them, then put her hand delicately on what was now the most vulnerable part of him and said this:

“I’m here, Jeff. I’m here.”

In that moment, Erin gave me the heart of the story. Everything suddenly clicked into place. The screenplay became a love story, where Erin is just as much of a hero and a participant as Jeff. In real life, she saved Jeff. She also saved the movie.

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