Directed By Rebecca Hall

Starring – Tessa Thompson, Ruth Negga, Andre Holland

The Plot – Mixed-race childhood friends reunite in middle class adulthood and become increasingly involved in each other’s lives and insecurities. While Irene (Thompson) identifies as African-American and is married to a Black doctor, Clare (Negga) “passes” as white and has married a prejudiced, wealthy white man.

Rated PG-13 for thematic material, some racial slurs and smoking

Passing | Official Trailer | Netflix – YouTube

POSITIVES

– Hall of fame. As a first time storyteller behind the lens, Rebecca Hall provides much psychology and nuance deposited to a little-known subject matter that actually hangs quite closely to the heart of the acclaimed actor turned director. Hall, who herself is part African-American, but typically cast in white roles, took on the story as an exploration of the history that many bi-racial people, including her grandfather, faced for the particular time period, using it as a way to link family matters in a way she’s never had access to. Almost immediately with the evocative imagery involving an aerodynamic use of shadows, mirrors, or the scenic New York City landscapes at her disposal, Rebecca conjures an impactful style to counteract the abundance of provocative substance, injecting with it the kind of heart and respect necessary in cementing such a compelling circumstance, which has terribly been swept under the rug with cinematic acknowledgement. This is boldly daring cinema, especially for a debut feature, and proves Hall to be an unapologetic force to be reckoned with.

– Vintage presentation. Aside from this being an endearing thematic experience with cultural and historical significance, “Passing” is also a technical cinematic achievement that starts with the benefit of some truly transformational properties. Immediately, we’re lured into the experience with a classic 1:33.1 boxed aspect ratio that not only feels visually appropriate for the time period depicted in the film, but also compliments the colorless pallet of the movie’s entirety seamlessly with decades old captivity being filtered through contemporary technology. Speaking of that colorless decision, it invokes a compelling double meaning in purpose that provides one of many thought-provoking commentaries beneath its material. In one way, I viewed the lack of color as an emphasis in importance to framing society as one collective people, where color should never distinguish itself in the way we view one another. In the other interpretation, I saw it as the moral ambiguity filtering many of the three-dimensional characters, and their questionable motivations, through the many preconceived notions that films like these construct in their routine outlines. It’s two schemes for one film, prescribing secondary watches in order to see something that you probably wouldn’t through the eyes and captivity of the other.

– Sound layering. If the technicians from this film don’t receive an Oscar nomination for mixing and editing, I will have lost all faith in the Academy Awards. I say this because much detail and subtlety are unloaded in audible concepts that feel enriched in naturalism and believability. Sometimes it pertains to proximity, where the microphone can be placed to slightly obscure dialogue as a means to articulate the influence of the environment, while other times enhancing the claustrophobia of the ensuing neighborhood. Other times, it pertains to the deliveries of the dialogue themselves, which with a slight static in the distance of the recording serves as another aspect of golden age cinema, forcing the audience to hang onto the every word of the characters because of the work it takes to remain invested.

– Jazz serenity. It should come as no surprise that Devonte Hynes, the same composer who used music as a weapon in films like “Queen and Slim” and “Nerve” here uses it to serenade the choir of voices and thoughts in this big-but-intimately-depicted city that hold them hostage emotionally. Most of the engagements feature soft piano keying through a rapid firing of notes that work cohesively with the beauty of the colorless imagery, but other times it’s the manipulation of quiet that he uses to psychologically unravel us, while incorporating the occasional flute or horn in the distance of the composition. It’s one of those rare scores that can be appreciated even without the dynamic of the film coinciding with its many rhythmic beats and character impulses, making this not only a cinematic spell that Hynes entrances our audible senses with, but also a smooth, seductive spin on a black dominated genre of music that compliments the film so endearingly with invigorating passion.

– Central dynamic. Much credit to the script’s characterization, which values many of Irene and Clare’s differences and inferiorities just as much as it does their one glaring similarity. This outlines a lot about the ladies in one single solitary scene that I feel is among the best in the film throughout, where Clare values Irene for her dependable and moral attitude, while Irene envied Clare’s vivacious and free-spirited demeanor. This prepares us for much of what’s to come with the characters, but without ever truly spoiling matters for where the duration of the film is headed, instead creating a false sense of security that begins with those aforementioned defined characteristics being presented in one way, and then leading to the ingredients in another that literally tear them apart. It’s valued exposition, but beyond that depth in characterization that illustrates meaning in the motivations of their movements, and ones that echo a rich and defining circumstance to the history of their on-again, off-again friendship.

– Timely dialogue. Aside from the nuances depicted to the presentation and sounds of the film’s vibrant setting, the lines delivered from the characters also articulate with them the kind of authenticity in personality and structure that serve as a uniqueness for the time. There are many examples of this littered throughout each of the character’s exchanging dialogues, so I won’t go into the laundry list of examples, but will instead say it’s another measure of the immersive production that Hall takes seriously, channeling as much about the place in time with cultural significance that allows it to stand out faithfully on its own merits, without alienating the audience with Shakespaerian terms and undefined meaning. Everything pertained in the vocabulary is easily personable enough to remain faithfully invested throughout, attaining effectiveness in their channeling, without sacrificing the kind of emotionality that would obscure the intention.

– Devastating dames. While the entirety of the magnetic ensemble manages to attain scenes of prominence for familiar faces like Holland, Alexander Skarsgard, or the vastly underrated Bill Camp, it’s no surprise that the show is stolen early by Thompson and Negga, and never returned without apology. The chemistry between them is undeniably evidential, very much feeling the miles of an ages old friendship, while igniting a spark of excitement between them that is romantic without feeling sexual. As a huge fan of Thompson, myself, this is easily her most impactful performance to date, permeating a complexity for Irene that bluntly bares the weight of her city’s unabashed racism continuously on her shoulders, while sustaining a mounting internal furnace of jealousy and rage that tempts to swallow her character whole. As for Negga, the visual of her light-skinned appearance certainly makes her ripe for the depiction of the passing concept, but it’s the elegance and adventurous spirit of her emotions that allows us to invest in her freeing escapism, presenting an unmistakable happiness for the character that highlights everything she gave up in order to be accepted.

NEGATIVES

– Diminishing returns. Even with this feeling like a project of passion for Hall, as previously indicated with her bi-racial history, there’s an absence of passion from the creative impulses of the finished product that continuously omitted more of the momentum built up during an impactful opening act that sets the plot in motion immediately. For my money, the repetitious nature of everything following this scene, especially during a frustratingly taut second act, condemned a story and ensuing novel of the same name that is ripe for fiery registries and devious deception, saddling it with arduous pacing and grinded momentum that very rarely refuses to advance the storytelling in ways that the audience can cohesively interpret. It sets itself up for a climax that would be impossible to pay-off on even by Scorsese’s standards, and makes a 98 minute sit with a buffet of profound themes supplied from the corresponding novel, feel like it never lives up to the magnitude of its potential.

– Surface level submersion. Despite the possibilities that could’ve sprung from a plot that was unlike anything I’ve ever seen or experienced by cinematic standards, the execution of such left plenty more to be desired in the details of the depiction. We’re told early on what the concepts of Passing are, but rarely shown anything in the forefront of the narrative to convey feelings or tragedy in the cost of the predetermined price. This is where I felt the film should’ve followed Negga’s Clare a little more faithfully, as her suppressing to the background of the narrative, especially as the film reaches its second half, feels like a missed opportunity of informative emphasis. It’s also especially costly to the movie’s dramatic muscle, or lack there of, which never even remotely satisfies in offering anything compelling or captivating in leveling this film with the kind of anxiety needed to flesh out the reality of the situation. It’s not a boring film by any stretch, but rather one that should’ve been a lot more engaging with Clare’s vulnerability for possibly being discovered, instead focusing matters elsewhere with triangular conflict that comes out of nowhere.

– Clumsy editing. Speaking of spontaneous arrivals, I found the cutting and pasting of the film to be very problematic with interpreting essential matters that transitioned each scene to the next. This is especially the case with character motivations, where one scene these women can feel like best friends made whole by their untimely reunion, and in the very next feel like arch rivals with ulterior motives. This of course isn’t the only example of this problem, as there are a couple of instances where I scratched my head wondering where a character drew such a conclusion, but it pales in comparison to the jumbled nature for the climax of the film. Not only is the sequencing itself sloppy in that it’s difficult to even colorfully interpret what is happening in each frame, but it’s edited in such an overly enthused manner that it feels lifted from one of the various Jason Bourne sequels, instead of this once intimate dual character study with racial ramifications. It tripped up the execution of its most memorable scene, and left me confused in the moment where clarity muddles what lasting effect this story prescribes.

My Grade: 7/10 or B-