FILM REVIEWS

More black and brown storytellers are influencing which stories are told and how than ever before. Whether those storytellers carry their power responsibly or not, they have the means to influence the way we see ourselves and one another. Their work is needed to help us see where we’ve come from, where we are, and where we need to go. Kasi Lemmons’ film Harriet invites us to analyze, reconsider, and re-approach our relationships with our national heroes. In this instance, our attention is drawn to Harriet Tubman. 

As a runaway slave who pursued her freedom by fleeing North alone, Harriet Tubman represented and continue to represent a light amidst enduring darkness. A conductor on the Underground Railroad, she led over fifty slaves to freedom and spearheaded a special operation in the South that helped free 300 more. A vessel, she believed herself to be in communication with God, who not only answered her prayers but also owned her life and granted her necessary strength and faith to carry out her liberation work. A semi-mythical and unconventional hero, she’s now being conjured as a film character in Harriet.

Harriet (Cynthia Erivo) is introduced as a troublemaking slave on the Brodas plantation. Zealous wife of John Tubman (Zachary Momoh), a free black man eager to see his wife live as a free black woman - free to own her life and destiny, and ensure the freedom of her future descendants. Daughter of Rit, a black woman cheated and tricked into remaining bound to the Brodas’ plantation long after age 45 when she and her children should’ve been freed. Loving sister of Rachel, Robert, Junyah, and Henry, who, like Harriet, are owned by Mr. Brodas and have no control over their freedom nor their destiny.

Harriet’s tumultuous and unpredictable life, as she (slave, wife, daughter, sister) is trapped within a time and place that are not favorable to the black body, is vividly crafted for our consumption. The instabilities, uncertainties, and cruelties that accompany chattel slavery mold her into a faithful and confident person. Harriett transforms into someone who can see things no one else can, speak to God, dream of freedom, and move towards materializing a different tomorrow for herself and her family.

In this rendering of Harriet’s tale, Kasi Lemmons portrays the typical hero’s triumphant journey against all odds, by constantly playing with the juxtaposition of good and evil. This juxtaposition adds to Harriet Tubman’s mythical portrayal and discredits the film’s weight as a valid and trustworthy historical narrative. The craft and pace of the film defeat Lemmons’ attempt at breathing more fullness and dimension into Harriet as both a film character and a historical figure. Many key elements of Harriet’s life that would’ve provided context for why and how she became who she is are completely omitted or glossed over. We do not witness  the evolution of Harriet’s relationship with God nor how she met John Tubman. Lastly, fictional elements that do not align with Harriet Tubman’s story (i.e: black slave catchers) are featured in the film. Lemmons’ decision to cast the slave catcher(s) as a black man/as black men points to a concerning disregard for the necessity to hold white people accountable for the historical injustices they have committed.

Lemmons’ film invites a much needed dialogue on the following topics:

How accountable should we hold our storytellers when they choose to recreate characters based on historical figures?

In the process of creating a character based on the historical characterization of a person, how much of that person’s humanity gets erased for the sake of storytelling or shaping a narrative that fits a particular motive or agenda?

Those questions are challenging and the answers are complex. But perhaps moving forward those questions can inform the way we remember important figures in our communities.

When it comes to backing new-age coming-of-age dramas, A24, the American independent entertainment company founded in 2012, is king. Some of the studios’ most critically acclaimed films, Moonlight (2016), Lady Bird (2017), Mid90s (2018), and The Farewell (2019) all have a similar theme in common: Young people trying to find themselves and their place in the world. Waves, which opened in theaters on November 15th, follows suit. You may find similarities between Waves and the HBO series Euphoria, about the modern challenges of teen life in a social-media age. Kevin Turen serves as a producer on both and each offers the portrayal of teenage love, sex, and drug abuse in lucid color. Actress Alexia Demie is a muse in both and the pop-culture website Vulture has crowned her A24’s First Lady for having appeared in two A24 films now, Mid90s and Waves. In Euphoria, Demie plays Maddy; a popular cheerleader who uses sex to get what she wants out of men, and eventually her boyfriend Nate, until Nate becomes abusive. Like so many other victims and survivors of domestic abuse, Maddy is embarrassed, confuses abuse for love, and does her best to absolve Nate from blame. In Waves Demie plays Alexis, a popular cheerleader in a sweet relationship with her wrestler boyfriend, Tyler, a captivating and charismatic Kelvin Harrison Jr. The chemistry Tyler and Alexis have is palpable. Director and writer Trey Edward Shults fools us into believing their love will last the test of shirtless-selfies-and-awkward-texts-time when Tyler lifts Alexis up and kisses her within the waves of the ocean. But the existential dread - like the film’s eclectic soundtrack - is never too far away. Shults frames these teenage lives with a camera that is just a frenetic as its subjects. A dizzying carousel-like shot portrays teenage bliss during car rides in each act. Cinematographer Drew Daniels’ dramatic cool lens leans on many of Euphoria’s signature visual motifs: seizure-inducing strobe lights narrate weed-and-alcohol-filled parties, slow-motion close ups illustrate the gradual come-down from a high, and moody melodic color waves engulf the screen to mark key tonal transitions. Tyler’s life seems picture perfect, he is afforded the luxury of a beautiful home in a nice neighborhood, success on the mat, and a girlfriend who carefully dies the waves in his hair bleach blonde. But like many other A24 film protagonists, that doesn’t mean he’s immune to effects of past trauma, societal pressures, addiction, and mistakes and Shultz makes sure that we swim through this journey with Tyler during the first wave of the film. Tyler’s suffering from a severe shoulder injury and is doing his best to hide it so he can continue to wrestle. Tyler’s father Ronald, an over bearing taskmaster played by a fantastic Sterling K. Brown; takes the tough love approach with his son, waking him up at 5 am to run, pushing his pain-tolerance during workouts, and knocking his pride down a notch in a diner scene that quickly turns from humorous to uncomfortable. And then a huge wave crashes down when Alexis tells Tyler she’s pregnant. Alexis knows Tyler is “under a lot of pressure right now” from his father and coaches, but she wants to keep the baby. Tyler wants her to get an abortion. What makes Alexis different than Euhoria’s Maddy is that Alexis is quicker to cut her relationship off when things turn volatile. Soon it all becomes too much for Tyler to stay afloat, he drowns himself in alcohol and pills, and makes a devastating mistake. Then, like a flash flood, we’re thrust into the film’s second act - where like The Place Beyond the Pines - one character’s tidal wave causes irreparable damage to everyone around them, and their loved ones are left to deal with the ripples. Rounding out the stellar cast is Tyler’s step-mom, Catharine, played by an affectionate Renée Elise Goldsberry, Tyler’s sister; Emily, played by the scene-stealing Taylor Russell, and Lucas Hedges, another A24 alumni, playing Luke. Hedges is cast again as an angst-filled teen and he has a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameo in act one only to rule act two with a larger more confident role. The two-hour and fifteen-minute run time may have been served by cutting some montages short but this is a film where the characters need room to breathe and the audience needs room to exhale. Waves is beautiful and soul-crushing at the same time. Ultimately, it’s about how the universe is indifferent, that success and money does not guarantee happiness, and a successful black family still needs to be twice as good to get half. “We are not afforded the luxury of being average,” Ronald tells his son, and in Waves, no character is afforded the luxury of floating without passing through a storm.

Art activism is defined as by the Center for Artistic Activism as a “dynamic practice combining the creative power of the arts to move us emotionally with the strategic planning of activism necessary to bring about social change”. Activism “moves the material world, while art moves the heart, body and soul” (Ibid). Lena Waithe and Melina Matsoukas employ their creative gifts in Queen and Slim to bring awareness to the lynching of black folks by the police; underscore the power and significance of love for the black community; and highlight the stiffling effects of being trapped in a history that has never valued black life, freedom, or love. The film centers on Queen (Jodie Turner-Smith) and Slim’s (Daniel Kaluuya) drive across a few southern states after Slim fatally shot a white cop during a traffic stop. The audience is turned into the third wheel companion/intruder as Queen and Slim drive from one point to the next, trying to devise a plan that will help them evade death. The two characters spend most of the film driving/riding in cars. The confined spaces they share forces them to discover each other, and allows us to learn about who they are. We also get to see and feel their mutual attraction evolve. Waithe and Matsoukas rely heavily on dialogue to develop the characters and the narrative. Unfortunately, the conversations Queen and Slim share often come across as badly rehearsed, theatrical voice-overs that lack depth and emotion. The dialogue leaves the characters underdeveloped and punctures the plot with holes that neither the cinematography nor the acting can fix. In addition to the underwhelming dialogue, the sound design falls flat. The soundtrack chops up the film, giving many scenes a music video feel. Perhaps this is a result of Matsoukas’ background as a music video and commercial video director, or maybe it’s intentional. Although the cinematography cannot fill the plot holes of the narrative, it is so well crafted that it makes the film seem better than it is. The quality, composition, texture, and framing are simply excellent. Blackness (specifically black skin) has never looked this stunning on screen. As for the acting itself, Jodie Turner-Smith and Daniel Kaluuya give us their best performance when they aren’t talking. The most powerful scene is the final one where Queen and Slim barely speak. The few words they exchange take us back to their journey across state lines. The silence forces us to rely on our imaginations to evoke sorrow and empathy for what could’ve been if the circumstances were different. As an art activism piece, despite the very important ideas and themes the film evokes, the directors’ aim isn’t clear. We are taken along for a ride that begins and ends violently. The characters’ burgeoning love is doomed by their circumstances. The traumas many black people have experienced because of police brutality and complicity are revisited without telling the audience why or what to do next. Aside from what we already know about the killing of innocent black men and women by cops, what are Waithe and Matsoukas asking us to think about right now? If they are not inspiring us to think in new ways, what are they asking us to do? Queen and Slim is a visually compelling film, but aesthetics aren’t enough when activism is at the forefront. We need substance. We need art that adds something to the conversations we’re already having. We need more.

The trailers for QUEEN AND SLIM give you the idea that you may be seeing a mix of “Bonnie And Clyde”, “DB Cooper”  and “Sweetback’s Badass Song”, and that is not at all the case. It’s an original story that takes the audience on a bit of an unexpected journey. You know there will be danger and tragedy early on in the film, what you don’t expect is the light-hearted, truly human moments leading to laughter. You expect a couple on the run to have a strong relationship, but these two are basically strangers on a bad first date that turns into a life altering disaster. Worst date ever! The filmmakers are genius at controlling our emotions throughout with full spectrum: laughter, fear, hope, resignation, love, wisdom, plenty of “don’t go there” and “uh-oh” along with “whew!”

The story begins with two people in a diner on a Tinder first date that isn’t going well. We see Queen roll her eyes as Slim prays over his food. We note her disdain as he accepts receiving the wrong food order. They each judge the other harshly. In their lives each of them works to make their world a better place, he mentions that he chose the diner because it’s Black owned and forgives the waitress because she’s a hardworking single mother, while she is a lawyer who is distraught over the execution that day of her client. After the meal they argue over music in the car and then are pulled over by the flashing lights of a police car. The policeman says he pulled him over because he didn’t signal when changing lanes (flashback of Sandra Bland for many of us in the audience). The policeman is disrespectful and aggressive from the start. Things escalate as the policeman orders Slim out of the car and Queen protests the excessive mistreatment and takes our her cellphone to record. The policeman shoots her and Slim knocks him down and shoots the policeman in self defense. He wants to stay and turn himself in, but she says he will never get justice and they must run. Thus begins our story and our couple’s journey.

Daniel Kaluuya (“Get Out”, “Black Panther”) and Jodie Turner-Smith (SyFy’s “Nightflyers”, this is her first feature film role) play Queen and Slim (although they are never called those names in the film). They are talented actors who easily bring you along on their emotional journey. You look to them to give you clues about which characters you can trust, love, fear and suspect and they are not always correct. Most of the characters are fully nuanced, such as Bokeem Woodbine as an emotionally troubled and violent Uncle Earl who may provide refuge or may betray them, we are always on the edge of our seats with anyone offering help. Indya Moore (“Pose”) shows the powerful essence of sisterhood and loyalty in a role that at first seems to be the stereotypical downtrodden sex worker and expands into wisdom and strength with her moving speech. There is a depth in many of the secondary characters that makes me want to see a film of their individual stories. While on the run, we are always cognizant of the danger and, yet, see the passionate embrace of much of the community who understand their plight and reach out to help. One wonders would I be part of the “underground railroad” helping this couple or would I turn a blind eye to their struggle? Time and again humor is used in service of the story while keeping us on edge and aware of the danger. Some of the most powerful moments, one that stays with me, are not actually involving Queen and Slim, while some of the most humorous moments (that also stay with me) are about their misalignment as a couple. Things that get on your nerves with a date, we all can name our pet peeves. We never for get that they are human or that this story is tragically real in our world. It could be any of us.

I wondered how writer, Lena Waithe, and director, Melina Matsoukas,  developed this story. Did she write a compelling dramatic story of two innocent people on the run constantly in fear for their lives and then sprinkle the story with jokes, lighter moments and human foibles? Did she write a story about a couple on a first date and then follow a “what if” series of events and situations? Did it all come together naturally as she was writing, story, characters and situations blending in a natural progression? Was it a team effort or did everyone come together around one person’s plan? Lena Waite has said that the idea came from writer, James Frey, who approached her at a party with an idea for a story that he said he couldn’t write: A Black Man and a Black woman are on a first date, on their way home a police officer pulls them over, things escalate and they kill him in self defense, then get in the car and go. Lena told Frey that he was correct in stating that he couldn’t write that film. She had final cut and complete autonomy in making this film, it was not put through a white filter. She created protest art, one of her goals is “humanizing Black people so much that maybe they’ll stop killing us”. She said, “we are in a war we didn’t start”, “it’s open season on Black bodies” and believes if two Black people killed a police officer, they would instantly become heroes. Lena believes her job is to ask questions not give answers.

This film was a spiritual and loving tribute to Black people as fully nuanced, rather than the usual stereotypes that you see in so many films. It leads to thought provoking discussion and questions about some of the unexpected occurrences. I highly recommend seeing this film more than once.