Recently, I got a chance to attend a screening of the film Nickel Boys followed by a Q&A and reception featuring RaMell Ross, the director, Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, an Oscar-nominated actress who plays in the film, and other members of the cast and crew. I’ll recount my thoughts on the entire experience here, including a review of the movie. Interestingly enough a reoccurring theme I encountered every step of the way was things left unsaid. Read on to see what I mean. Starting with…
The Trailer
Have you heard of Nickel Boys? Before this screening I certainly hadn’t. While it may have been adapted from bestselling author Colson Whitehead’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel of the same name (I told y’all I don’t read much and I definitely don’t read books like this), everything about this story was news to me. Even the gruesome fact that it was based off a real-life corrupt reform school that just shut down in 2011. I pretty much went into the movie blind, save for checking out the trailer they were initially showing. Here it is:
Now anytime I see black boys in what looks like prison garb, the first thing that comes to mind is this is going to be a sad movie. I do not like sad movies. I do not wish to see sad movies…unless of course, it has a happy ending. But this trailer left things unsaid. So many things that it really could have gone either way. I reasoned that maybe they are going to have this amazing friendship that would help them overcome the horrendous circumstances they were in. I’d read a blurb about there being a friendship in a reform school aspect to the story. But ultimately it was the promise of my favorite – free food – to follow this screening during a reception that made me take a chance.
They’ve since released a second trailer you can view below. This one comes across as even more hopeful than the first. See that white man who cradles the little black boys head in his hand? That may look like a loving gesture to some, but in actuality that is a very bad man.
We’ve seen this type of marketing trickery with other films, in particular with the marketing campaign of the movie It Ends With Us, which gave the impression that it could be your typical rom-com when in fact it was a domestic violence drama. Similarly, this latest Nickel Boys trailer is giving hope and triumph in the midst of the Jim Crow era, without letting on to the tragedy and horror that lies ahead.
The Movie
Set mostly in 1960s Florida, Nickel Boys is the feature film directorial debut of RaMell Ross that centers around two black boys at a reform school. One, Elwood, played by Ethan Herisse, is an optimistic, high-achieving student who landed there by accident. The other, Turner, played by Brandon Wilson is a realist, who I’m not clear why or how he ended up at the school. You see, I kinda arrived at the screening a little late, and by a little I mean around 30 minutes. It’s a long story – just blame it on my hair and LA traffic. Anywho, what is clear is that none of the boys there deserve to suffer the abuse, and in some cases murder, they are subjected to at the Nickel Academy.
After meeting in the lunch room, Elwood and Turner quickly form a friendship that helps sustain them in those harsh conditions as they consider ways of getting out of the school and whether or not that’s even possible.
Okay, that’s all in the way of a description you’re getting from me. I used to write movie reviews in the school paper when I was in college. I look back at those now and realize I basically told the whole movie in my review. Now I think it’s better to keep some things left unsaid. No spoiler alerts needed here — at least I don’t think so.
The Review
Whew, where do I begin? First of all, to give you a better understanding of how I review movies, know that I am not a cinephile. I am not the one who can reference some obscure, arthouse film from 1972 to marvel about its innovation in, I don’t know, name something. Basically, if it hasn’t been shown in my local multiplex or on TV, I most likely haven’t seen it.
Pulling from my mental dossier of films I have seen, I must say this movie is truly like nothing I’ve ever seen before. The director’s style is so singular it’s hard to compare it. But, if I had to, I would say it’s like a cross between a Shawshank Redemption or an Unbroken and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. And when I say Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, I only mean in its atypical style, not substance. Though I could be off the mark on this one given I haven’t seen that movie since it came out in 2004. Likewise, I only mentioned the former two movies due to subject matter, not storytelling, as I think those movies have superb storytelling qualities, an area in which I think Nickel Boys is lacking. Interestingly enough, I was watching Life, starring Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence today on Bounce and there were quite a few similarities between the two movies. I wonder if Whitehead or Ross was inspired by Life in their writing and filmmaking process.
From what I can gather, RaMell Ross is first a photographer obsessed, for a lack of a better word, with images and how they influence how people see themselves, view their place in the world, as well as how other people view them. He seems to be someone who believes a picture is worth a thousand words and there are stories to be told through the images alone that need no further explanation. Perhaps that’s why this film comes across as a live-action collage of sorts.
The most notable departure Nickel Boys makes from your traditional viewing experience is the way it’s shot. Ross and his cinematographer Jomo Fray call it sentient (I had to look that up) or point-of-view (POV) perspective. The purpose being to create an immersive experience where you supplant yourself into the character’s shoes, instead of simply being an observer. What that means is throughout the movie, you often don’t see the main characters faces. You just hear their voices and the camera serves as their eyes, which means your eyes are supposed to serve as their eyes as well.
This shooting style, however, didn’t work for me and I’ll tell you why. Maybe it’s because I went into it not knowing that this was the shooting style they had chosen. When I came in late, the first scene I saw featured Elwood’s grandmother Hattie, played by Ellis-Taylor, talking directly to the camera. It was several scenes later that I realized she was talking to Elwood and not me as an audience member. Since this POV shooing style is only employed with the two main characters, it left me longing to see their faces, their reaction, their disposition as they were experiencing life rather than merely hearing their voices.
I don’t think watching a movie is an immersive experience – it is, by its very nature, observational. No matter how good the acting is or the camera work is, I’m acutely aware that I’m in a seat in a theater with other people, or I’m at home surrounded by my own things. I’m aware that I’m not there. It’s hard to suspend reality for something on a two-dimensional screen.
Instead of feeling like I was more immersed into the scene by this shooting style, I was more aware that the people that I was watching were actors, good actors, but actors nonetheless. Thankfully, when the boys were together, this shooting style wasn’t such a challenge as I could see both of their faces like normal.
What’s more, this film is also peppered with scenes that don’t fit neatly into the overall story line. One thing I’ve learned about screenwriting is that every word, line, scene written in the script is prime real estate. There is no room, time or even budget for the superfluous. Basically, if a movie spends a noticeable amount of time on something, that’s usually a huge indicator that it has meaning that will make sense sooner or later in the movie. Not so in this case. There’s the random appearance of a donkey in the hallway that Turner pets. In another scene we see Turner deep underwater in a pool watching Elwood’s legs dangling in the water while he sits at the pools edge. In yet another scene there’s an alligator that appears in a classroom. None of these scenes had a meaning that was ever inferred or explained. Those are just a few scenes I can remember that were given no meaning, leaving the audience to figure it out on your own or look it up. At least I don’t there was a discernable meaning. I did, after all, nod off a couple times, so it could be I just missed it. But that seems to be Ross’s style. He seems to leave blanks on purpose and want you to fill them in. It’s just another way this movie leaves things unsaid.
Overall, I think the storytelling is the aspect of the film that suffered the most from this avant-garde style of moviemaking. The incorporation of actual news footage from that time period, archival photos from the actual reform school the movie was based on, the insertion of scenes from the 1958 movie The Defiant Ones, along with the POV perspective used to shoot the film, left little room for social and environmental context to develop fluidly, resulting in a patchwork of scenes that were at times not just incongruous, but also unnecessarily mysterious.
Now don’t get me wrong, the movie is art. It is indeed…I’ll even venture to say a masterful work of art. However, it is put together in such a way that you spend so much time looking at or admiring the art of it all or trying to understand the art of it all, that the story can get lost in the fray.
The Q&A and Reception
Here’s a few clips from the Q&A session:
The reception is always my most anticipated and most dreaded part of attending one of these events. It’s the most anticipated because I’m always excited to see what kind of free food they’ll be serving. Sometimes there’s a full-on feast. This one had small bites. But hey, free food is free food. It’s the food that helps me balance out the dreaded part – the part where I’m forced to talk to strangers, all of whom seem to have come in groups or with at least one other person, while I attended alone. Thankfully, I usually attract somebody to talk to. Even if I don’t want their company, I’m still grateful that they’ve filled a void. This time, however, nobody was coming up to me. It was like I was invisible or ostracized. Either way, I remained alone.
To combat the awkwardness, I did my normal routine in these situations. I got a drink at the bar (sparkling water this time, I’m just not that into wine and they always have wine) and kept an eye out for the servers to grab hors d’oeuvres from their trays. After five long minutes or so of nobody talking to me, I realized I would have to be the one to initiate contact this time. With, a drink in one hand, a mini baguette sandwich in the other, I eventually just blurted out, “Did you like the movie?” to a random black woman walking by. There was a solid number of black folks at this event, but we were not the majority. Thankfully, she stopped and answered me, and a conversation ensued.
As we stood there talking, Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor passed by behind the woman. Other people were around her ready to engage in conversation when she tapped the woman on the shoulder before saying, “Thanks for coming” while looking at us both.
“Thank you, Aunjanue,” I replied. She smiled and continued on.
The woman I was talking to turned to her and responded as well. When she turned back to me, her eyes were big and she said, “I can’t believe she touched me.” I wanted to tell her that I’d actually taken a picture with her back in January when I went to a screening of the movie Origin that she starred in. But I thought better of it.
We resumed our conversation about Nickel Boys instead. She liked it, loved it in fact, thought it was beautiful. I couldn’t deny its artistry. I then asked her about the ending. She shared her thoughts. I shared mine before she asked me what I thought of the movie overall. I told her I didn’t like it, and went on to say how I wasn’t into these struggle bus black movies we’ve seen so much of over the last decade or so (not that these films shouldn’t be made, I just think there’s a disproportionate amount of them). I’d rather see more stories about black boy joy, I explained.
Then she was like, “but what about their friendship?”
And I was like, “The friendship was cool, but I’d prefer it in a different setting.”
Then she was like, “Then why did you come to this screening?”
Then I was like, “Because I couldn’t tell how heavy it was from the trailer.”
That she understood.
Sometime during our conversation, I’d noticed that the director had entered the room. He didn’t get far from the exit of the screening room before he was surrounded by people asking him questions. I was about to become one of them. Making my way over to him, I told the woman I was going to ask the director about the ending and we parted ways.
When I arrived at where he was, there were several people standing around him, in particular a tall white man who looked to be in his mid to late fifties and a short Asian woman who looked to be around the same age. The white man was busy talking to him when I showed up, and I stood by quietly listening…or pretending to listen, because truth be told, I really couldn’t hear much of what he was saying. The white man didn’t talk long after I arrived, and the Asian woman quickly took over. Again, I stood quietly, taking in what I could of their conversation, but also taking in the director.
He was much taller than I anticipated. I’m 5’8” which I know is considered tall for a woman. I don’t think it’s that tall, yet I’m often amazed at how often I can see over people’s heads – male and female – in a crowded space, or see all the way to the back of the room at my height. So I guess the fact that I not only couldn’t look over his head, but also had to tilt my eyes up to look at him caught my attention. He had to be around 6’5, 6’6.
As the Asian woman continued on – she talked much longer than the white man – she began to look familiar to me. Then she mentioned something about being a professor. That’s when I chimed in, “at USC.” She said yes. It came back to me that I’d seen her at one of these things before.
“You’re a professor too?” RaMell Ross said to me in that question/statement sort of way. He’s a professor himself at Brown University.
“Oh no, no, no, no,” I said, my insecurity at the thought of me being a professor shining bright with each successive no. Though I’ll have you know, one of my secret dream jobs is to be a professor, even if only a visiting professor for a year or a semester, I’d be happy to do it. The three main characters of the one and only screenplay I’ve ever written so far all teach at a university.
It was sort of loud in that room. The Asian woman was standing closer to him than I was, so I couldn’t fully hear what she was saying. Only bits and pieces made its way to my ears. At some point while waiting, I got nervous, and when the Asian woman sensed that she may have been talking too long, and offered for me to jump in instead, I declined gesturing for her to finish—a move I would later regret. What I could make out is that at one point they were talking about professorial things, the technicalities of moviemaking – not my wheelhouse. Next thing I knew, he brought me into the conversation asking about someone named Kristen Johnson.
“I have no idea who that is.” I had to admit. But the Asian woman said she knew.
“Cameraperson,” he said matter-of-factly, as if that would clarify.
“I’ve never heard of it,” I conceded. Again the Asian woman confirmed her knowledge of this cameraperson business. Later when I got home I googled both Kristen Johnson and Cameraperson.
From there, Ross continued on with his thought, the only difference is now both he and the Asian woman were looking at me as well as each other when they spoke. I had effectively made my way into the conversation though I wasn’t speaking.
And then, their chatter ended. Finally, it was my turn. I gave him a brief description of a scene from the movie’s ending so he would know exactly which part I was talking about, then asked, “what did that mean?”
“What do you think it meant?” he replied.
Just as I was fixing my mouth to tell him my thoughts, a loud, “Hey!” rose up from behind him. He turned around to see who it was and responded in kind. From there, a boisterous conversation filled with familiarity ensued. One involving him and whoever those folks were behind him – not me.
No worries, I initially thought. I’ll just wait. He’ll turn back around eventually. In the meantime, the Asian woman and I started talking. She didn’t remember me and was curious where I had met her before. I told her it was another movie screening. She was a documentarian filmmaker, and like our last encounter, she began telling me about her journey to secure funding for her film. I stood there talking to her…well, like before, mostly her talking to me, for about 20 or 30 minutes. The whole time Ross was still there, just behind us, with his back still to me, talking to the folks that said, hey. I’m not sure how long it was into those 20 or 30 minutes that I realized he wasn’t going to turn back around. That he’d either forgotten about me, just didn’t care to finish our conversation or both.
Perhaps I should have hung around longer, waited until his conversation died down, then approached him again. Afterall, the reception was still going, food was still being passed out, and I had nowhere else to be. There was a good chance I would have gotten another opportunity to talk to him. But I didn’t have the wait in me. And after approaching him once, I wasn’t going to approach him again. It was time for me to leave. I, who usually have a hard time getting away from people I’m talking to in these settings, wrapped up my conversation with the Asian woman and dipped out of the reception with my question unanswered and things left unsaid.
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