For most actors, winning an Academy Award is the crowning achievement of their careers—a defining moment etched in gold. For Marlee Matlin, however, her historic Oscar win at the age of 21 was as much a moment of fear as it was of glory. The youngest winner in the Best Actress category and the first deaf actor to ever receive an Oscar, Matlin took home the coveted statue for her groundbreaking performance in 1986’s Children of a Lesser God. But behind the scenes, her victory came at a cost.
In the new documentary Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore, now playing in select theaters, the actress opens up like never before. The film peels back the public veneer to reveal the layered pain, triumph, and resilience that define Matlin’s decades-long career in Hollywood—and her personal life beyond the spotlight.
At the Oscars ceremony in 1987, Matlin stood before the world accepting her award from then-boyfriend and co-star William Hurt. But beneath her poised exterior, she was reeling. In the documentary, first-time director Shoshannah Stern slows down archival footage to highlight Matlin’s unease as she approaches the stage—hesitant, uncertain, even afraid. That moment, long buried beneath applause and media praise, is finally revisited with honesty.
“I’ve been waiting for so many years for the truth to come out about that moment,” Matlin tells USA TODAY through a sign language interpreter. “When I saw it on the screen, it was shocking to me. If I had talked about it without doing this documentary so people could see me, I don’t think anybody would’ve believed me.”
Her hesitation wasn’t just stage fright. Years later, Matlin would go on to accuse Hurt of physical and sexual abuse, and in the context of those accusations, her Oscar night takes on an entirely different meaning. The statue represented validation, yes—but it also symbolized the start of a struggle for independence, voice, and survival.
Not Alone Anymore isn’t just about Matlin’s past traumas. It’s an unflinching portrait of a woman who has wrestled with fame, isolation, addiction, and identity—both as an individual and as a public figure representing an entire community. After her Oscar win, Matlin’s career soared, but so did the pressures. She became a figurehead for the Deaf community, a responsibility that soon became overwhelming.
Perhaps no moment encapsulated that tension more than the 1988 Oscars, when Matlin chose to both speak and sign during her presentation. While some hailed the gesture as inclusive, others in the Deaf community saw it as a betrayal of their culture. The backlash was swift and sharp.
“That’s when I realized it was time to just step away from the public discussion and let the heat of the moment die down,” Matlin reflects. “Meanwhile, I focused on my career and having a family.”
The divide between Matlin and her community grew wider over time. For years, she avoided Deaf events out of fear of judgment. It wasn’t until fellow Deaf actor and friend John Maucere reached out that Matlin began the slow process of reconnecting. “I said, ‘Why?’ Because I was terrified of the community. I didn’t want to approach them because they decided to define me in a certain way. I didn’t get any real explanation as to what I did,” she says.
This emotional distance eventually began to heal, particularly during her work on the 2011–2017 ABC Family series Switched at Birth, which featured a large number of deaf characters and themes central to the Deaf experience. Matlin used this time to re-establish ties, listening, learning, and rebuilding a sense of mutual understanding. “I cut myself off, and then I brought myself back. I just needed to know how to solve the impasse.”
The documentary also touches on another deeply personal moment in Matlin’s life: learning of William Hurt’s death in 2022. She found out while in the back of a car en route to an awards ceremony for CODA, the critically acclaimed 2021 film that brought renewed attention to Deaf representation in Hollywood.
“I was alone in the back of a car,” she recalls. “I was aware that he was ill but I didn’t realize that he was close to death—I just happened to look at my Twitter feed at the time. I felt such sadness and very mixed emotions, knowing that a lot of questions would never be answered.”
Her first thought wasn’t of her own trauma but of his son, Alex Hurt, with whom she’s maintained a respectful relationship. “I texted him right away with my deepest apologies because he lost his father.”
But the show had to go on. “Then I got to the red carpet, and the mood was … I don’t know how to put it. I was in shock.”
Despite a legendary resume—Seinfeld, The West Wing, The Practice, and of course, CODA—Matlin remains candid about the ongoing challenges she faces as a deaf actress in an industry that still operates on exclusion. She praises creators like Larry David, Aaron Sorkin, and David E. Kelley for crafting roles with her in mind, but acknowledges that such inclusivity is rare.
“If there were more people like them, I’d probably be getting more work,” she says bluntly. “I’ve been around for almost 40 years, and all the work I’ve done has been great, don’t get me wrong. But every day, I have to hustle as if I’m somehow reinventing myself every time.”
While some argue that rejection is part of the business for every actor, Matlin pushes back: “They say, ‘Well, hearing actors have the same problem.’ And I say, ‘Eh, not necessarily.’ I can’t go into any audition for any character that interests me. It’s almost like they have to create these special circumstances for me to be in a movie.”
The 2021 Oscar win for CODA seemed to promise a new era of representation. But for Matlin, the wave hasn’t lasted. “I haven’t worked since CODA as an actor,” she admits. “I’ve gotten to experience directing on Accused, which was on Fox. But that’s all I’ve done since 2021.”
The frustration in her voice is clear. “There are so many stories I could be in, and I’m tired of having to keep talking about that. I want to be able to just talk about developing a new character and being on a set with my fellow actors. Why do I have to keep talking about the hardships for me as a person, who happens to be deaf, to get work? It’s ridiculous in 2025.”
One of the most tender revelations in Not Alone Anymore is Matlin’s hope for her granddaughter. Although she used both voice and sign with her own children, she now wishes she had approached things differently. “Unfortunately, I didn’t sign with my kids as I would’ve wanted to. I didn’t know that you should start signing right away and not use your voice.”
Now, with a second chance as a grandmother, she’s determined to correct that path. “When my granddaughter was born, I thought, ‘I’m going to fix that.’ It’s about her understanding my identity, more than anything else.”
This decision speaks volumes about Matlin’s enduring commitment to not just her craft or her cause, but to her legacy.
What Not Alone Anymore ultimately reveals is that Matlin’s story isn’t about a single Oscar night or a string of acting credits. It’s about persistence. It’s about rising from trauma without letting it define you. It’s about redefining what it means to be a trailblazer—not just for a community, but for oneself.
Stern, the film’s director and a deaf woman herself, captures this complexity with a nuanced lens. “She fights not just for herself, but for the people around her,” Stern says. “I would never have had the opportunity to direct if she hadn’t pushed for me so hard.”
Their bond—two deaf women standing together in an industry that too often pits marginalized people against each other—is more than symbolic. “Every time I see a picture of us together when we’ve been out promoting the film, I get goosebumps,” Stern shares. “There’s just something about seeing two deaf women together in the face of what society has done to pit us against each other.”
Marlee Matlin is not done. Not by a long shot. She continues to show up, speak out, and fight for the stories that matter—not just hers, but those of countless others still waiting in the wings.
In 2025, the industry still hasn’t caught up to her. But the world is watching, and with this new documentary, perhaps it will finally start to listen.