Tag Archives: Drama

Roma (2018): Gorgeous Visuals with a Humble Story

In a wealthy suburb of Mexico City in the 70s, Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio), a maid and nanny, attends to the affluent doctor’s family that employs her. She lives in a separate apartment with another staff member and spends her days taking care of the four children, husband, wife, elderly grandmother, and pet dog.

The film is shot entirely in black and white. As the much anticipated release from director Alfonso Cuarón, this marks a stark shift from his previous feature Gravity, a $100 million special effects driven thriller. He works on a much more intimate scale here and uses his images to not only set the time period but also to establish the film as a willfully humble story. Cuarón acted as his own director of photography and the visuals are gorgeous. Black and white films often receive unearned praise for their beauty, but that is not the case with Roma. The digital cinematography has incredible detail and the special attention that has gone into use of shadows, reflections, and depth of field show the work of a master visual stylist.

Cuarón has created his own version of an Italian Neorealist film. He is interested in the everyday life of the subjects in his selected microcosm and never shies away from events that could be called mundane. We see Cleo cleaning floors, doing laundry, and dressing the children. None of these actions propels      the plot forward, instead they serve to establish a routine. This is a slice-of-life story and Cuarón embeds the audience in the smallest details of daily patterns. There are a few too many of these scenes, but the film’s greatest success is that most of these banal tasks aren’t boring. The film is on the longer side, but the majority of the additional scenes feel deliberate and necessary to fully comprehend Cleo’s existence.

Cleo’s chores form the bulk of the screentime.

Through her interactions, we see the subtle, but firm, difference between Cleo and her employers. She may technically live in the same house and spend her days with the family, but she is distinctly not one of them. Although the children clearly have affection for her, often saying “I love you” as she tucks them into bed, and the adults care about her well-being when she is in need, they are quick to order her around and occasionally take out their frustrations on her. We never see Cleo do the same to them. No matter what personal struggle she may be facing, she isn’t afforded the luxury of rudeness because she is at the bottom of this social ladder.

There are a few moments that have a sudden impact. Once Cuarón establishes the regular rhythm of Cleo caring for the family, he introduces conflict that creates emotional reactions. These feelings are amplified by Cleo’s subdued body language. Even in the most climactic scenes, her strongest expression is a quiet sob and the resulting effect is that the viewer absorbs the remaining emotions she is unable to exhibit. This can be an incredibly powerful technique and one that Cuarón has used in the past. Unsaid emotions have a greater impact than any dialogue could deliver, but as successful as this method can be, there are too few emotional moments across the runtime and the ones that are present don’t provide a strong enough payoff. Roma is an incredibly well made film that features flashes of emotion, but not enough to take it to the next level.

3/5 stars.

Private Life (2018): Desperation and Conception

After years of unsuccessfully trying different methods, a Manhattan couple in their late forties, Rachel (Kathryn Hahn; Bad Moms) and Richard (Paul Giamatti; Sideways), takes increasingly drastic steps to have a baby of their own. They simultaneously attempt in-vitro fertilization (IVF) and adoption in case either method fails. Writer and director Tamara Jenkins (The Savages) examines the process and the effect it has on their personal well-being, their marriage, and their extended families.

Jenkins contrasts how important the IVF process is to Rachel and Richard with how little it matters to those around them. Some of their friends and extended family treat it like a routine procedure without understanding the gravity of their situation. The medical staff at their hospital are the most grating. The nurses approach the process from a cold, clinical perspective and perform their tasks without sensitivity to the meaning it has for their patients and their main doctor has an inappropriate informality. He nonchalantly compares malfunctioning organs to soda machines and repeats the same corny anecdotes with each visit. These attitudes might seem comical at first but when compared to Rachel and Richard’s long history of attempting to have a child and what it means to them, it seems downright cruel.

Hahn and Giamatti show the cost of the couple’s continued failures.

As a couple pushed to their limits, Hahn and Giamatti portray weary characters. They have spent years attempting various fertilization procedures and adoption methods but to no results and the emotional toll is apparent. Each passing anniversary or nearby family is another reminder that they still don’t have the life they want. Their failure to conceive creates feelings of inadequacy and regret, especially in Rachel. She feels partly to blame for her predicament. Both Rachel and Richard are successful artists that prioritized their career and, in Rachel’s case, she repeatedly chose to delay having kids in favor of completing other career milestones like finishing a play or book.  Hahn and Giamatti show the desperation of a wife and husband exhausted from their efforts. Giamatti, known for his bombastic acting, is subdued here with the gray in his beard and drained expressions showing his lack of energy. Hahn’s performances shows more determination but also more frustration. Her Rachel is fed up with the lack of results and uses a short temper as a defense for the blame she expects to be placed on herself.

Ultimately, Private Life is about family in desperation. In order to pay for the expensive treatments, Rachel and Ricard are depleting their life savings and having to borrow large sums of money from Richard’s brother. They are on the brink of collapse and it has damaged themselves and their relationship as their journey to parenthood has consumed the last years of their lives. Every subsequent failure has deepened their suffering and they feel powerless to do anything about it as they find themselves at the mercy of doctors and adoption specialists. Jenkins has taken a sensitive, sympathetic look at the heartache that comes with failing to participate in a basic part of human existence and being unable to lead the life you so desperately desire.

4/5 stars.

Vox Lux (2018): Diva Drama with a Mediocre Lead

After making national headlines for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, sisters Celeste (Natalie Portman; Black Swan) and Ellie (Stacy Martin; Nymphomaniac) write a song about their encounter that allows Celeste to become a worldwide pop star. In the present, Celeste is releasing a new album and starting a tour while dealing with mental and physical issues and attempting to raise a teenage daughter of her own.

The film is framed with biopic style narration from Willem Dafoe (Spider-Man) that creates an interesting conceit. It makes the film a deliberate retelling of the Celeste’s life rather than simply portraying the actual events and Dafoe’s tone has the perfect level of retrospective regret. The film uses his voiceover to frame Celeste’s adulthood as inevitable given each of her childhood vignettes. With the exception of the final lines, which feature a laughably bad coda, the narration adds a fatalist twist to the story.

Portman’s acting ticks are noticeable, but have limited benefit.

Portman is winning significant praise for her lead role and, by her low standards, she does an adequate job. She plays Celeste as a neurotic, self-absorbed diva that, while aware of her potentially fading stardom, still believes she is the best out there and dismisses the contributions others have made to her success. Portman is an actor that often suffers from what is called mechanical acting. Her gestures, physicality, and the delivery of her lines feel rehearsed so instead of seeing a character onscreen we notice an actor attempting to play a character and the same issue persists here. The noticeable aspects of her performance are her adopted mannerisms, not an intended emotional state. But, compared to Portman’s history of bad to awful acting, this is one of her more tolerable outings. Regardless of the final quality of her acting, she is nothing if not committed. She throws herself into the role, especially in a late dance performance, and this ethic, despite a lack of results, is admirable.

The real star of the film is its direction. Brady Corbet (Childhood of a Leader) uses a bold, grimy style. The story has an explosive opening that establishes the film’s grungy aesthetic. The events onscreen feel like the unfiltered, unpolished version of behind the scenes videos for a concert where the star and their entourage are bickering and getting high instead of collaboratively preparing for the next show. It is this internal drama that is the film’s focus. There has been a lot of advertising about the original songs being composed by pop musician Sia, but, while well-made, they are inconsequential to the narrative. Vox Lux isn’t a story of stardom corrupting an innocent youth, Corbet is interested in how fame released, and continues to grow, an inner version of Celeste that always existed but would never have manifested without the freedom allowed by her global success. This a unique and interesting angle to take on effect of sudden fame, but with a mediocre lead and an embarrassing narrative bookend, Vox Lux isn’t able to maintain the strength of its shocking opening.

3/5 stars.

Sicilian Ghost Story (2018): Innocence and Apathy

In a small Sicilian town, two middle schoolers, Luna (Julia Jedlikowska) and her first boyfriend Giuseppe (Gaetano Fernandez) wander through the woods together as their young love blossoms. One day, to Luna’s dismay, Giuseppe stops showing up to school. Their teachers have no details about where he is and his parents claim that he is simply not well. Unsatisfied with their responses, Luna sneaks into his house only to discover that he isn’t there and that he has been kidnapped as retaliation for his father, a former criminal, acting as a witness against the local mafia. While the adults around her seem unable or even unwilling to help, Luna endeavors to keep Giuseppe’s memory alive and convince others to continue the search for him.

New filmmakers Fabio Grassadonia and Antonio Piazza have created haunting images. They make heavy use of audio design to unnerve the viewer. Everyday sounds like the barking of a dog or debris rattling in the wind are exaggerated to extreme levels to make an unpleasant experience. They also shoot they Sicilian countryside like a fantasy film. Each location, from the towering forests to the mist covered lakes, feels supernatural. Luna’s treks are more like odysseys to dangerous, unknown lands than strolls through the neighboring areas. The settings are shot from a child’s perspective making them seem ominous. The gorgeous landscapes feel like they, similar to the townspeople, are hiding something.

The natural locations feel like twisted settings from a fantasy story.

The film is essentially a fairy-tale. Although the story is inspired by the real abduction of a former mafioso’s son, the narrative exists in a dream-like, heightened reality. It recalls Guillermo de Toro’s Pan Labyrinth. Like that film, Sicilian Ghost Story uses a child’s imagination to interpret the horrors surrounding them. In this case it is the overwhelming influence of the mafia. Luna’s demanding mother disapproves of her relationship with Giuseppe because of his father and when he goes missing other adults and children remark that his kidnapping is what he gets for having a snitch as a father, showing complete disregard towards his innocence. The townspeople view his father’s confessions with more disgust than Giuseppe’s kidnapping or any of the other crimes committed by the mafia. In contrast, Luna shows a sweet innocence. She is unconcerned with anything related to Giuseppe’s father and only cares about his well-being. Even when others move on, she remains devoted to finding him and her commitment grows to unhealthy levels as she is faced with the indifference of those around her.

As a result of its ethereal style, the plot is always a mystery. Unlike a standard thriller, there is no foregone conclusion or reveal that the film is moving towards. The lack of clear narrative direction could be seen as a negative, but here it is actually beneficial. There are several surreal aspects to the narrative and the encounters Luna faces which open up numerous possibilities for what is happening in reality and what could potentially happen next. This does however have the unfortunate effect of making the story feel longer when it seems like the film is about to end only for it to stretch on for another 20 minutes. Pacing issues aside, Sicilian Ghost Story presents haunting, dream-like imagery of a child’s devotion in the face of apathy.

4/5 stars.

Mary Queen of Scots (2018): For Queen and Country

After the death of her husband, Mary Stuart (Saoirse Ronan; Lady Bird), the rightful leader of Scotland, returns home to take her place as queen. Scotland is ruled by the English Queen Elizabeth I (Margot Robbie; The Wolf of Wall Street) and many of the nation’s people want their own independence. Mary, who also has a claim to the English throne, seeks to consolidate power in her homeland while growing her influence across England. It’s a somewhat esoteric story, but no prior knowledge of or personal connection to the historical events is needed to enjoy the film and it may actually be more enjoyable without it.

This is not the stuffy period drama it seems like. The accents are heavy and there is plenty of formality to go around, but the plot is surprisingly involving. Rather than snooty posturing, the film plays out like a great episode of Game of Thrones with all the associated alliances, betrayals, and love lost or gained or used for advancement. Mary, despite her royal status, is surrounded by advisers that seek to undermine or overthrow her. She brings the baggage of having lived in France for many years and being Catholic in a largely Protestant nation. Even her immediate family cannot be trusted, yet she is able to persist. Her ingenuity and resilience in the face of constant opposition is formidable, but not absolute. Ronan balances Mary’s strength with emotions beyond political ambition in scenes where she makes earnest pleas for help to those around her. Elizabeth, the older of the two, bears a different burden. She is an aging queen that has not taken a husband or produced an heir which leads many to doubt her stability. She has to manage Mary’s potential disobedience while planning the succession of the throne. Robbie plays Elizabeth as the weaker opponent of the two. She is less confident and seems to be suffering from some sort of depression surrounding her health and lack of child. Yet, she still shows her own strengths. When needed, Robbie displays Elizabeth’s foresight as she makes decisions based on how they will impact the future of the combined England and Scotland, even if they cause short term difficulties or are not in the interest of her personal political career and lineage.

Mary’s determination and intellect make her an impressive threat.

The underlying reason for the opposition Mary and Elizabeth face is their gender. They are rulers, yes, but also women in a political world otherwise controlled entirely by men who deem them unfit and impulsive at every turn. The male advisers lament that they are being bound by “the whims of women” as they attempt to control their monarchs. In the midst of their rivalry, this shared experience unites the two queens. Regardless of their opposing goals, they are the only ones that can relate to each other’s plight and as a result Mary and Elizabeth refer to each other as “sister” in their correspondence and have mutual respect for the political moves being made. The strange bond that forms is touching and adds a sense of common anguish that heightens the already fascinating maneuvering and makes Mary Queen of Scots an involving political drama.

4/5 stars.

Green Book (2018): Class, Race, and Unexpected Depth

Green Book is a film that immediately raises some red flags. Being released late in the year with a well-worn setup, respected actors, and a positive message about race relations, it, on paper, reeks of Oscar bait. While some of those initial assumptions are not entirely false, the film expands beyond blatant awards pandering. The story could be viewed as a new Driving Miss Daisy with the races swapped, but it has more on its mind to say. Viggo Mortenson (A History of Violence), proving again that he is one of the few actors able to completely lose himself in his roles, plays Tony Lip, a New Yorker who gets a short-term job acting as post a driver and bodyguard for Doc (Mahershala Ali; Moonlight), a pianist, on a concert tour through the Deep South.

As characters, Tony and Doc fall into several stereotypes. Tony is a blue-collar Italian everyman. He works as a bouncer at nightclub, eats spaghetti and meatballs, and feels like he just walked off the set of Goodfellas. Doc is an ultra-posh artist with a doctorate that lives in an expensive penthouse and interviews drivers while sitting on a literal throne. Together they create the required odd couple whose relationship begins as purely professional before gradually developing into a mutual friendship as they drive further into the South and face more racism.

The early impressions quickly give way to Tony and Doc’s deeper emotions. Doc’s mannerisms are, at first, annoyingly haughty. He enunciates his language to a degree that makes him sound pompous and even hold his head titled slightly upwards as if he is too dignified for everyday people and the behavior bothers Tony until Doc’s motivations are revealed. The fact is that no matter how talented, successful, or educated Doc may be, to many of the people he meets in his travels, he is defined by his race and the racist stereotypes they believe in. This crucially recontextualizes his behavior as a defense mechanism, not a sign of arrogance.

Despite the serious subject matter, there is still plenty of humor when Doc and Tony spend time together.

Tony’s realization of the difficulties Doc regularly faces are expected, but the film also sheds light on some of Doc’s unique struggles. Upwards mobility is a core feature of a fair society, but Doc has to suffer the related consequences. His education and success as an artist affords him a luxurious lifestyle, but at the expense of emotional belonging. He spends his nights drinking an entire bottle of hard liquor alone in his hotel room because he no longer fits in with society’s expectations. He is, as he puts it, too white to be black and too black to be white which leaves him in a friendless state. This is an unfortunate result of social climbing that is rarely discussed in media and the film deserves praise for touching on this subject.

The biggest surprise is that the film is directed and co-written by Peter Farrelly. He and his brother Bobby are best known for creating comedies like Dumb and Dumber and There’s Something About Mary which makes Green Book a radical departure. In his first solo outing as director, Farrelly shows the restraint necessary to paint the story with a finer than expected brush. The theme of overcoming societal differences and initial prejudices is predictable, but the performances from Ali and Mortenson and the unexpected depth make Green Book an effective odd couple road trip with a commendable message.

4/5 stars.

If Beale Street Could Talk (2018): Moody but Disjointed

Following up a Best Picture winner is never easy, but Barry Jenkins (Moonlight) makes an admirable effort with his latest film. If Beale Street Could Talk, based on the novel of the same name by James Baldwin, follows a young couple and the difficult situation they find themselves in. Tish (KiKi Layne) and Fonny (Stephan James; Race) have known each other since they were kids. Tish works selling perfume at a department store and Fonny works a day job while sculpting wood at night. As young adults, the two fall in love and make plans to start a future together until Fonny is imprisoned for rape after which Tish realizes she is pregnant.

Visually, Jenkins makes some major strides. Moonlight was heavily influenced by the cinematography, lighting, and pace of Wong Kar-Wai (In the Mood for Love) but Jenkins steps firmly into his own style here. He still continues with the emphasis on mood and textures onscreen, but has additional flourishes. He uses overhead cameras, circling movements with heavy use of contrasting shadows, and uncommon framings. Several scenes have the character’s head centered in the frame directly facing the camera similar to a headshot. This is a composition typically rejected by filmmakers as it breaks the idea that the audience is a fly on the wall observing the plot. Jenkins instead uses it to emphasize intimacy. He reserves these scenes for dialogue that plays like personal confessions between lovers and the effect is penetrating. He places the viewer in the middle of the heated emotions, literally.

The emphasis on mood is the film’s greatest strength. Characters speak in hushed tones often through sad, aching faces and it gives scenes a disarming sincerity. This is especially true of the romance between Tish and Fonny. The tone captures the comfort and safety their bond offers and makes their struggle empathetic. Despite the potentially insurmountable odds and issues of discrimination, the film doesn’t fall into pure gloom. Fonny’s family looks to their love as a guiding force through their hardships and the use of hope rooted in love overcoming adversity tinged with the melancholy of reality strikes a subtle balance.

The tender chemistry between Tish and Fonny gives the film a strong emotional core.

Yet, this subtle approach is undermined by some blunt messaging. It is revealed immediately that Fonny’s incarceration is a result of racial prejudice by the arresting police officer and systemic injustice in the criminal system. As a representation of a greater plight of so many, Tish and Fonny’s story would have been deeply affecting, but when Jenkins explicitly points out, through onscreen text, that the story represents the experience of many others, he cripples the intimacy of the story. It, along some with similarly overt dialogue, makes the film feel colder and didactic when it could have been personal and impactful on a visceral level.

The impact is also lessened by the story structure. The film makes heavy use of flashbacks and constantly cuts back to scenes of Tish and Fonny’s burgeoning relationship. The scenes themselves are fine but the editing style breaks up the flow of the film. It makes it difficult to become invested in events happening in the present when the needed background is being filled in ad hoc instead of being presented early and gradually built upon. While the visuals and general mood of the film are strong, If Beale Street Could Talk’s disjointed editing and unnecessarily blunt messaging prevent it from reaching its otherwise high potential.

3/5 stars.

Everybody Knows (2018): Farhadi Without the Moral Ambiguity

Somehow switching from language to language, despite not being fluent, Asghar Farhadi (A Separation) has made his second non-Iranian and first Spanish feature. The film boasts a powerhouse cast with Penélope Cruz (Volver) as Laura, a Spanish native visiting from Argentina with her daughter for her sister’s wedding, Javier Bardem (No Country for Old Men) as Paco, a family friend who she has a complicated history with, and Ricardo Darin (The Secret in Their Eyes) as Laura’s husband Alejandro. The film begins with a wedding celebration that is interrupted when Laura and Alejandro’s daughter goes missing.

The depth of the family connections are immediate. In a flurry of hugs and kisses, we see siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, and family friends warmly embracing each other in the sunny Spanish countryside. With little exposition, the mutual affection is established and the picturesque setting and upcoming wedding celebration are almost enough to make you forget that this is an Asghar Farhadi film and that something is about to go wrong. Yet, the seeds of future arguments are hinted at early on. Farhadi’s favorite theme of class divide is made apparent as certain characters talk about their financial difficulties in contrast to the relative success of others and more complicated histories appear to exist beneath the exterior of the welcoming smiles.

The happiness of the initial reunion is skilled misdirection for the events that follow.

The kidnapping leads to long buried secrets being revealed. Since the crime happens during a family gathering, the potential suspects are all loved ones. Past relationships, both personal and professional, resurface to complicate matters and the visible strain the search for the culprit puts on the family bonds is effective. Laura is torn between her love for her family and facing the reality that one of them may be using her daughter, their relative, to extort money from her. Each person she would normally turn to for help is a potential suspect and the mystery creates suspense until the true culprit is finally revealed.

Plot-wise, the film is closest to About Elly, but it falls short of that high benchmark. Both stories follow a young woman who goes missing during an otherwise carefree event, but as Farhadi’s signature plot intricacies reveal themselves, there are a few crucial differences. In the best of Farhadi’s works (About Elly, A Separation, and The Past), he takes a familiar situation and injects a conflict with seemingly endless perspectives where each character’s actions are flawed, but their motivations and thought processes are understandable. In Everybody Knows, the conflict is decidedly less complicated. The relationships are still layered and interesting, but the central event is an actual crime – meaning there are clear villains. These characters may have depth to their motivations, but their extreme actions are never forgivable. In previous films, Farhadi would design his plots so that the central conflict and the ensuing consequences were unfortunate outcomes of humanly flawed thinking that put the viewer in a state of nail-biting moral confusion. There was no one to root for when everyone made mistakes. In structuring his newest film as a whodunit, Farhadi has removed the moral ambiguity and weakened the previously gut-wrenching effect of his trademark multilayered relationships and plot reveals.

3/5 stars.

Border (2018): Pointlessly Strange

A peculiar looking woman named Tina (Eva Melander) works as border security in Sweden. She possesses a preternatural sense of smell that allows her to literally sniff out smugglers. She doesn’t just smell food or drinks they might be hiding, she can smell guilt. She lives in a small house in the woods with a man that isn’t her significant other, but also not quite just a roommate either. One day she smells something wrong with a man, Vore (Eero Milonoff), who seems to share her physical features. Eventually she befriends him and offers to let him stay in her guest house. The film is based off a short story by John Ajvide Lindqvist who also wrote the novel Let the Right One In which was later adapted into two successful films. With these two films, Lindqvist has demonstrated his interest in loners and fairy tales. Let the Right One In had an isolated child bonding with a centuries old vampire and in Border we have a woman dismissed for her appearance who discovers that she is a troll – literally.

Initially, Tina’s sense of smell is intriguing. She seems like she might become some type of unconventional superhero a la Unbreakable. A subplot of this story does explore this idea as Tina assists law enforcement with a difficult case and it becomes the most interesting part of the movie. She is shown to be a kind person, despite how she is often treated, and would be an investigator worth rooting for in a crime story. But this is not that kind of film.

Tina and Vore’s romance isn’t the draw that Abbasi wants it to be.

Director Ali Abbasi (Shelley) uses Tina’s appearance to examine an outsider’s perspective. Tina has spent her life believing that she was an ugly person, disregarded by society and loved by only her father. In early scenes, Abbasi frames Tina by herself, gazing into the distance. He quickly establishes her isolation, but too much of the film is spent on these and other slow scenes of little value. It isn’t until Vore enters the picture that Tina realizes she is of another species. Vore explains that everything that made her different, her looks, her sense of smell, and the long scar on her lower back are related to her being a troll raised as a human. This revelation frees her from the negative labels she had absorbed. Her response to being nonhuman is contrasted to Vore’s. Tina hasn’t been treated well, but she harbors no ill will towards others while Vore has a militant pro-troll mindset. Through them we see how people can react to rejection and mistreatment and how these experiences can bind similarly outcast individuals.

Their shared trollhood eventually grows into a romance that, while believable, doesn’t have chemistry. It is touching to see Tina’s behavior change as she feels belonging for the first time, but the actual attraction between her and Vore has problems. Vore has a suspicious, almost predatory edge to him that makes even his kind praises seem dubious, but her attraction to him seems like a foregone conclusion. He is the only other troll so naturally they get together. Abbasi spends a significant amount of time on their relationship, but it, like the film in general, doesn’t have a payoff. The slow pacing and subdued acting make the film drag on until its unsatisfying conclusion. We’re left wondering why all the strangeness and deliberately unconventional plot details were even necessary when the final outcome is nothing special.

2/5 stars.

The Hate U Give (2018): A Message in an Average Film

Whenever movies like this are released, the distinction has to be made between the film and the message the film is trying to communicate. The two exist together but are often, as is the case here, of differing quality. Starr (Amandla Stenberg; Everything, Everything) is a 16 year old black girl that lives a poor, crime-ridden, predominantly black neighborhood, but goes to a private, mostly white high school. When coming home from a party with her childhood friend Khalil (Algee Smith; Detroit), she is stopped by a white police officer. He asks her friend, who was driving, to step outside and stay still while he checks their license plates. Khalil doesn’t listen and is shot dead when reaching for his hairbrush. The shooting and subsequent trial create unrest in the community and divide Starr as she wrestles with her role and the different reactions she receives from her friends at school and her family.

With a clear point to get across, the script wastes no time on subtlety. The characters shown and the way they fit together fall into easy stereotypes. The good kid turned drug dealer to pay for his grandmother’s cancer treatment, the former gangster gone straight to raise his family, the conceited rich kids, and more clichés are stacked together to remove any chance of an audience member having a thought that strays from the film’s goals. With every element of the plot so conspicuous in its intentions, the machinations of the narrative are clear and the artifice of the story becomes apparent. The writing can be manipulative to the point that it prevents the characters and the plot from feeling realistic and lessens the film’s impact.

The supporting characters are too stereotypical to matter.

There are additional problems that stem from the transition from book to film. Angie Thomas’s novel relies heavily on voiceover to show Starr’s inner thoughts. When used to depict the split personality Starr is forced to adopt just to fit in, this device works well. We are able to understand and sympathize with her lack of identity due to the two worlds she inhabits and how it can be exhausting. Sadly, the film doesn’t just limit voiceover to this purpose. It’s often used for exposition dumps. This is especially egregious at the film’s conclusion where Starr’s narration ties up every loose end in an act of blatant telling, rather than showing.

At its heart, the film wants to spread a message against hate. The title come’s from rapper Tupac Shakur’s “THUG LIFE” adage and the story seeks to humanize the frequent news headlines of killings and police brutality. Its greatest weapon are its the actors. Stenberg has an incredibly expressive face and she uses it to believably convey a broad range of emotions. Her father, played by Russell Hornsby (Fences), is a tough but loving patriarch. His strictness comes from learning difficult lessons and wanting to ensure his children never have to do the same. When seen together, Starr and her family create the emotional center director George Tillman Jr. (Barbershop) was likely intending. They show how regular, good people cope when subjected to adversity caused inherent systemic flaws present in their neighborhoods and society as a whole. Had the film carried this humanist angle in the script, it would have been influential without feeling calculated. As it stands, The Hate U Give has strong performances, but a manipulative plot that weakens the effectiveness of its message.

3/5 stars.