There is always abundant suspense in the Telluride Film Festival (TFF) lineup; it’s kept secret until the Thursday before the festival. This year, for its 51st edition, TFF’s programming has a heavy emphasis on exposing and exploring some of the extreme realities we’re experiencing politically and socially. Telluride’s curation is extraordinary. I find that the features, year after year, often feel thematically connected, even in small ways, and this year is perhaps the most singular in keeping a common artistic theme: magnificent performances and careful technical execution.
RaMell Ross’s narrative feature debut, “Nickel Boys,” is a methodical movie based on the 2019 book of the same name by Colson Whitehead, who also served as an executive producer on the project. Ross delivers a warm yet uneasy picture that leaves the audience feeling devastated.
Set between the 1950s and the early 2000s, we witness the life of Elwood Curtis (Ethan Herisse), as he grows from a young boy through adolescence into adulthood. The relationship between young Elwood and his Nana, phenomenally played by Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, establishes the viewer’s desire to root for him as he navigates living in the South amidst the Civil Rights Era. Despite excelling in school and testing the waters on going to college, Elwood finds himself in a “wrong place, wrong time” unfolding, and is sent away to Nickel Academy where he must move through the four rankings of behavioral reform in order to earn freedom from the reformatory.
While at Nickel Academy, which is based on the diabolically historical Arthur G. Dozier School for Boys in Florida, Elwood forms a friendship with a Nickel veteran named Turner (Brandon Wilson). Ross uniquely and boldly frames this story exclusively through “point-of-view” shots, toggling back and forth between the eyes of Elwood and Turner. For the audience, the switch in perspectives sometimes takes us through the same scene from different viewpoints; repetition and variance deepen the audience’s attachment to and understanding of these characters. The two become dependent on one another, realizing that their only way out would be to make it together. This first-person perspective may seem formally limiting at first. But it refines the story in a way that allows archival footage and other symbolic imagery to enhance Ross’ vision for the film rather than serving as an arbitrary aesthetic choice.
Although I have not yet read the book, I sensed some elements perhaps did not make it to the adaptation, which left me with a few questions about the overall plot. However, Ross’s choices for visual storytelling are considerate yet complex, and it drives the audience to lock in on what’s in front of them while considering what is consciously omitted. It’s easy to nitpick a film for what it lacks, but I think the ambiguity the audience feels throughout the film enhances the mission Ross is working towards. Coming from the documentary filmmaking world, Ross’s approach to narrative still keeps elements of that style of filmmaking that translate spectacularly into the fictional storytelling space. By turning up the notch on these techniques, he demonstrates his ability to keep the truth at the forefront of his work as a documentarian and narrative director. Ross’ work is creating and contributing to an archive for Black American stories; with “Nickel Boys,” we observe a candid, raw portrayal of two young Black boys as they embark on a journey towards greater possibilities.
Based on the 1987 August Wilson stage production, “The Piano Lesson” is a heartfelt depiction of how an object, specifically a familial heirloom, is much more than its materiality and sentimental value. With the increase in distribution that Black films are receiving, it’s easy, and sometimes lazy, to label them as stories of overcoming generational trauma. In this case, Malcolm Washington’s adaptation of “The Piano Lesson” is an exceptional story of generational power and the protection that family and one’s ancestors provide us. Washington’s full-length feature directorial debut is made easy through his star-studded cast, including brother, John David Washington, Danielle Deadwyler, Samuel L. Jackson, and Ray Fisher; the cast and crew alike seem to have a mutual understanding of the gravity of adapting canonical work such as Wilson’s plays.
Boy Willie (John David Washington) is on a mission to sell a truckload of watermelons and his family’s piano in order to buy the land where his family was once enslaved. When Boy Willie arrives at his sister’s home to take the piano, the family collectively begins to battle ghostly figures from their past, yet they’re befuddled by the cause. This leads to the blame game and the exploration of various solutions. With a standout performance from Deadwyler, who plays Berniece Charles (the sister), there is a distinct difference from the typical August Wilson story where female characters often do not hold a lot of faculty. During a casual conversation with Deadwyler, she and I agreed that despite Berniece’s feminine physique, there is a dominant, fiery nature to her that counters her male family members’ conflicting opinions about what should happen to the piano without being dismissed simply because of her gender.
Through the haunting tribulations, there are spiritual and magical realism elements that stay true to Wilson’s work; while they’re enhanced through cinematic visual effects, the computer-generated images don’t receive the same energy as the set and costume design. I strongly believe many movies would benefit from reverting back to authentic prop and movie magic. For me, “The Piano Lesson”‘s CGI didn’t take away from the film’s cathartic culmination, but those unfamiliar with August Wilson’s work may find it feeling exaggerated.
JDW, who participated in the recently wrapped Broadway production of The Piano Lesson, struggles somewhat to take his performance to the cinematic level. Early in the film, his line readings enable the audience to easily identify that this script was likely adapted from a play. However, his co-stars elevate his performance, and, by the end of the film, both his character and his execution developed significantly. “The Piano Lesson” struck all the right chords, cementing itself as one of my favorites from the festival.
When it comes to the Olympic Games, it seems obvious to proclaim “the whole world is watching,” however, this was a new phenomenon for the 1972 Olympics in Munich, Germany, as it was the first televised edition of the universal competition. “September 5” is a high-intensity narrative feature depicting the ABC Olympics broadcasting crew as they attempt to cover an unfolding crisis when 10 members of the Israeli Olympic team are taken hostage at the Olympic Village. Swiss director Tim Fehlbaum and lead star Peter Sarsgaard come together to tell this story at a time when journalistic integrity has been called into question; not only that, the complexities of this story’s international relations are still relevant.
Despite the entirety of the film taking place in the production studio, the editing, direction, and performances are so superb that it remains dynamic and engaging throughout the 90-minute runtime. “September 5″‘s technical accomplishments are so seamless that it’s easy to look past the single-setting story. Archival footage from the actual 1972 broadcast and the fast-paced nature of the plot keep the audience on their toes.
Early on the morning of September 5, 1972, as the ABC Sports broadcasting crew is finally taking a break and others just starting their shift, they hear gunshots; shortly after, they receive news that hostages have been taken in the Olympic village. Despite not having the necessary ethical experience when it comes to live news, the ABC Sports team is fully aware of their journalistic responsibility in reporting the event.
The film compels its viewers to feel stressed, conflicted, empathetic, and sympathetic; I can only imagine how the over 900 million people watching the broadcast live felt. As Germany attempts to redeem itself from the atrocities of World World II, there are multiple sensitivities that the broadcasting crew must be mindful of; the concept of language and labels are weapons with the capability of making things catastrophic. Just like moviemaking, live television production requires a balance of technical excellence and pacing, prioritizing the order in which plot points are unveiled. “September 5” excels in conveying the integral, considerate role journalists must play.
