Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to tie a bowtie! Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the family drama “The Piano Lesson,” the creeptastic “Heretic” and the Cillian Murphy in “Small Things Like These.”
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SYNOPSIS: A story of legacy and spirituality, in “The Piano Lesson,” starring Samuel L. Jackson, John David Washington and Danielle Deadwyler, and now playing in theatres, a treasured heirloom reveals a family’s past and possibly its future.
CAST: August Wilson, Samuel L. Jackson, John David Washington, Ray Fisher, Michael Potts, Erykah Badu, Skylar Aleece Smith, Danielle Deadwyler, and Corey Hawkins. Directed by Malcolm Washington.
REVIEW: “The Piano Lesson,” based on the 1987 stage play by August Wilson, isn’t about practicing scales or learning to read music. It’s a story about honoring ancestors, generational trauma, self-determination and facing the ghosts that haunt.
The story begins in 1911 Mississippi with the Charles Brothers and the theft of an ornate upright piano from the home of former slave owners, the Sutter family. Decorated with carvings on the front and sides, we later learn that the piano’s art is a history of the Charles family, carved by an enslaved relative.
Cut to 1936 Pittsburgh. The piano now rests in the front room of the home of Doaker Charles (Samuel L. Jackson), his niece Berniece (Danielle Deadwyler), her young daughter Maretha (Skylar Aleece Smith), and a ghost Berniece is convinced lives upstairs.
The relative calm of their lives is upended when Berniece ‘s brother Boy Willie (John David Washington) arrives from Mississippi with Lymon (Ray Fisher) with a plan to make money to buy the land where his family had once been enslaved. Trouble is, his plan involves selling the piano and Berniece will not hear of it.
The story is layered, and crisply complex, a tangle of emotion, the paranormal and family dynamics. In his directorial debut Malcolm Washington opens up the story with some brief flashbacks to Mississippi and some outside scenes, but the action here mostly takes place in the Charles house. It lends a stage bound feel to the film, and yet, the topflight performances and dialogue never allow “The Piano Lesson” to become overly theatrical in its claustrophobic setting.
It’s about the words, the ideas, and characters so carefully written each and every one of them could be the star of their own story. As it is, it’s an ensemble, that spreads the wealth, allowing each actor to shine. As the easy-going Lymon, Fisher has a playful moment when he buys a suit and some ill-fitting shoes from Wining Boy (a great Michael Potts). Washington is all kinetic energy and dreams for the future, but it is Deadwyler whose presence captivates. As a grieving widow and single mother, her character is the film’s beating heart and has the widest arc, leading up to an intense crescendo in the film’s final moments.
“The Piano Lesson” is a period piece, but the topics raised by Wilson’s script remain powerful and timely.
In “Rustin,” a new reverential historical drama now streaming on Netflix, Emmy Award winner Colman Domingo plays Bayard Rustin, a gay Black man whose vision and tenacity had an outsized effect on the Civil Rights Movement. He’s been largely forgotten by history but “Rustin,” produced by Barack and Michelle Obama’s production company Higher Ground, serves as a potent reminder of his activist legacy.
The story of the run-up to 1963’s March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom and the famous “I Have a Dream” speech, “Rustin” sets the stage with harrowing images of 1950s segregation.
Cut to 1960 and a plan between Rustin and Reverend Martin Luther King Jr’s. (Aml Ameen) to launch a protest march on the Democratic National Convention. The plan is thwarted by U.S. Congressman Adam Clayton Powell Jr’s. (Jeffrey Wright) threat of a misinformation campaign, linking the two men romantically. Powell’s allegation, while untrue, causes a rift between the two men that sees Rustin kicked to the curb.
Three years later Rustin hatches another plan, a massive, non-violent march on Washington to pressure the Kennedy administration to initiate a strong federal civil rights bill in Congress.
With little to no support from DC’s power base, due to racism, his former communist membership and his sexuality—“When it comes to the old guard,” he says, “I’m considered a pariah.”—Rustin seeks support from his estranged friend King. “Do this Dr. King,” he says. “Own your power.”
The next eight tumultuous weeks find Rustin balancing his personal life—an affair with married preacher Elias (Johnny Ramey)—and his work with King and their band of “angelic troublemakers” as they arrange one of the largest political rallies for human rights in United States history. “On August 28,” he says, “Black, white, young, old, rich, working-class, poor will descend on Washington, DC.”
“Rustin” tells the story of a landmark moment in the battle for Civil Rights, but this isn’t just a history lesson. It’s really is a character study of the charming, driven man who made it happen.
The movie itself is stagey and straightforward, prone to grandstanding with an over-reliance on exposition, but it comes alive whenever the charismatic Domingo is on screen.
As portrayed in the film, Rustin is a powerhouse, a man predisposed to challenging authority, to giving voice to hard truths, to never backing down. Domingo inhabits him, embracing the strength to never apologize for who he is or his quest for justice and equality. “On the day I was born Black, I was also born homosexual. They either believe in justice and freedom for all, or they do not,” he rails against his detractors. It’s a muscular, timely performance that makes up for the film’s other shortcomings.
By times, “Rustin” feels rushed. Several scenes end prematurely and without explanation, giving the film an odd rhythm. But, the final moments as the march comes to life, are moving, empowering and pack an emotional punch, as does the portrait of a behind the scenes trailblazer and hero.
It’s hard not to watch “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” the vibrant adaptation of August Wilson’s play of the same name, now streaming on Netflix, without feeling a sense of loss. It’s Chadwick Boseman’s last performance and the life he brings to the role of ambitious trumpet player Levee acts as a poignant reminder of a career cut tragically short.
Set in the roaring 1920’s Chicago, Viola Davis plays the titular character, a real-life musical trailblazer known as “Mother of the Blues.” On a sweltering day in a dank basement recording studio, the band, pianist Toledo (Glynn Turman), trombonist Cutler (Colman Domingo), and string bassist Slow Drag (Michael Potts) and Levee, rehearse as they wait for the fashionably late Ma to arrive.
The heat, claustrophobia, frayed egos and twitchy Levee’s insistence on changing tried-and-true musical arrangements, fuel a war of words and wills as they attempt to put Ma’s signature “Black Bottom” song to disc.
“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” theatrical roots are very much on display in director George C. Wolfe (a five-time Tony winner) and screenwriter Ruben Santiago-Hudson’s adaptation. The presentation is energetic but simple; a showcase for the performances. Like bandleader Cutler says, “a-one, a-two, a-you know what to do.”
And they sure do. The core cast is uniformly excellent.
Domingo is understated but powerful as the bandleader, heading off interpersonal crisis with a few well-chosen words. Turman, recently seen as the stately Doctor Senator, consigliere to Chris Rock’s crime boss, on “Fargo,” is the sage of the group, gives Toledo’s monologues gravitas as he speaks of racial pride and personal sovereignty.
Davis is flamboyant, a diva who uses her demands to maintain control over her band and respect from her white producers (Jeremy Shamos and Jonny Coyne). “They don’t care nothin’ about me,” she says. “All they want is my voice. I learned that and they are going to treat me the way I want to be treated no matter how much it hurts them.” It’s a bravura performance that’s almost as loud and proud as the garish make Ma has slathered on her face.
Ma Rainey’s name may be on the marquee but the most memorable character is Boseman’s Levee. Ambitious, he wants to leave behind the sideman gigs and form his own band, Levee Green and His Foot Stompers, but his bluster hides a deep well of pain that overflows during the steamy afternoon recording session. Levee is a tragic character, a classically flawed man straining against the weight of personal trauma, hoping that his talent will bring him the respect he needs to survive. The distressing effects of racial discrimination are written large on Boseman’s expressive face, informing every twist and turn in his character’s journey. It’s a skillful and heartbreaking performance that doesn’t just hint at his great talent, but lays it bare. It’s the kind of performance, filled with fury and frustration, that makes you hungry for more. Sadly, it’s his swan song.
Although set in the 1920s and written in the 1980s, the ideas and the anger in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” feels of the moment and indispensable. The dialogue crackles and the context resonates because Wilson’s source material has not only stood the test of time, but transcends it.
