Irene (Tessa Thompson) and Clare (Ruth Negga) meet in the restaurant of a chic New York hotel, seeing each other across the room. Irene mistakes Clare for a stranger at first, but as I found out, the women grew up together. But as Irene examines Clare during that meeting, she can hardly believe what she is seeing. Clare is wearing platinum blonde hair and for a moment – just a moment – Irene thought she was white. But both women are black – although they can hide it. Both have fair enough skin so that they can, if they want, pass for whites. It’s something we see Irene do quickly at first – and she doesn’t seem very comfortable doing it, constantly hiding behind her own hat and avoiding eye contact whenever possible. But for Clare, passing has become a way of life. She even has a white husband (Alexander Skarsgard) “It …?” Irene asks, before Clare interrupts, “Do you know?” He does not know.
Rebecca Hallin Passage, adapted from the 1929 novel by Nella Larsen, follows these women in an ever-changing timeline. It is not entirely clear Like a lot of time passes, because Hall allows the days to collide with each other, and we only know that a significant time has passed when the characters throw a line or two signaling something that has changed. This gives the film a dreamlike quality – as well as the wonderful black-and-white (and sometimes almost monochrome) photography of Eduard Grau. When Irene and Clare meet at the hotel’s restaurant, the scene around them is completely white – the walls, the floor, the tablecloths and even Clare and Irene’s clothes are the color of freshly fallen snow.
Dealing with race, gender, identity and sexuality, Passage is a film about characters unable or unwilling to admit who they are. Clare happily lives the life of a white woman and even laughs at her husband’s uncompromising racism (he calls it a dirty word as an endearment in one of the most unbearably tense scenes in the film). And yet, she always talks about returning to Harlem, where Irene lives, to return to live among blacks. Irene, on the other hand, says that she is happy being who she is. Of course she I can pass if she really wants to, but she says she doesn’t want to. In addition, she says she is furious with Clare for her ongoing scam. But whenever Clare shows up, Irene can’t help looking at her longingly. She desires Clare, both sexually and with envy. Clare is free and happy in ways Irene can’t imagine, and there are several times when all Irene can do is look. Look with confusion and passion. At one point, the camera – from Irene’s point of view – lands on Clare’s bare skin when the woman is wearing a backless dress, and Irene is overcome by the sudden desire to reach out and touch her friend’s hand.
Irene is not alone in her desire. Everyone seems to be in love with Clare, including the children of Irene and her husband, Brian (Andre Holland), a doctor who wants to leave America and live abroad, instead of raising his children in such a racist country. It’s the kind of conversation Clare doesn’t want to hear, and when Brian tries to tell his kids about a black man who was lynched, she shuts him up, saying that the boys don’t need to know about that kind of thing right now.
Thompson and Negga are transcendent in their respective roles. Clare de Negga manages to have more fun, and as the film is told entirely from Irene’s point of view, Clare remains a mystery to us, just as she does to Irene – we don’t really know what’s going on in your head. But Negga gives us tips through thoughtful and silent looks that seem to say a lot without saying anything. Thompson, in contrast, is a bundle of nervous energy. She adopts an almost mid-Atlantic accent to make the character seem extra-fitting while playing Irene as someone so strict that she can break. Thompson has continuously presented memorable works, but this may be his best performance so far.
Passage it eventually leads to an ending that seems inevitable and hurried, and the conclusion – albeit emotional and severe – robs the film of its power. It is almost a shrug, as if the story gave up on itself and I wanted a little more. But the film’s dreamlike images and seething passions remained with me.
The types of themes Passage This traffic could easily go wrong on the screen if they were approached in a subtle and cumbersome way. But Hall, who makes her debut as a feature film director and also adapted the script, skillfully balances everything. There are no big explosions or speeches. Everything is just below the surface, boiling. We to know everything can overflow at any moment, and this lends considerable tension to the film. It is as if we are waiting for the other shoe to fall; for something to go wrong in a horrible and irreconcilable way. Hall occasionally gives in to some flourishes that distract from the story she is telling, such as several takes where the characters are deliberately out of focus. And the decision to shoot the movie in 4: 3 aspect ratio sometimes seems like a distraction. For the most part, though, this is a strong debut, proving that Hall is not just a great artist, but is about to become a great filmmaker as well.
/ Movie Rating: 8 out of 10
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