RaMell Ross’ Nickel Boys, based on the novel by Colson Whitehead, is a vitally important work of historical fiction, and just as important a step forward for experimental narrative filmmaking. Ross, Oscar-nominated director of the acclaimed documentary Hale County This Morning, This Evening brings some groundbreaking point-of-view techniques to bear on Nickel Boys’ impression of a segregated reform school in Jim Crow-era Florida. While not all of Ross’ experiments pay off, there’s more than enough which are successful to coalesce into an often overwhelming emotional experience.
Elwood (Ethan Herisse) is an African-American high school senior who, on his way to a visit a technical college, takes a ride from a young man driving a stolen car. Although he had no idea that the car was stolen, he’s labeled an accomplice to the theft and sent off to Nickel Academy (based on the real-life Dozier School for Boys). The way the film is edited ensures we are always aware of the fullest context of this injustice — we often cut to adult Elwood (Daveed Diggs), who is clearly psychologically impacted by this experience and painfully coming to terms with the idea that his life could have gone completely differently had this not occurred. As we sift through various memories, we also frequently shift perspectives, from Elwood to Elwood’s friend Turner (Brandon Wilson).
Turner helps the sharp-yet-sensitive Elwood through his time inside Nickel Academy, especially by using his connections as a longer-tenured “student” to ensure he and Elwood can work together on various “jobs” outside of the school. I put the words “student” and “job” in scare quotes here because Nickel’s corrupt administration basically only uses the kids for what would be considered prison labor anywhere else. If they “misbehave” in any way, they are severely beaten. It’s nothing short of legalized slavery.
An emotional anchor outside of Elwood, Turner, and the indignation we feel watching them be abused is Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor’s performance as Hattie, Elwood’s grandmother. Having raised Elwood most of his life, she is destroyed by the news that he will be sent to this horrible place, and later, the lengths Nickel staff will go to keep her from seeing him. However, at least in Elwood’s memories, Hattie never lets slip the full extent of her pain. Ellis-Taylor strikes an incredible balance between measured optimism and deep, deep wells of sorrow. Even though Elwood would probably understand and empathize if she lashed out in some way, she’s keeping herself composed for his benefit, and it’s simultaneously heartwarming and heartbreaking.
Late in the film, we see more and more of adult Elwood, and as we do, Ross and editor Nicholas Monsour increase the frequency with which they insert historical clips not expressly related to the situation at Nickel. Ross is creating a thesis statement about how society has papered over the kind of injustices his film explores for far too long. He’s often implying that our priorities are, and have always been, in the wrong place, and it’s pretty much impossible to disagree with that assessment. Though there are moments when the scope of what Ross is addressing seem to exceed the reach of specific turns and technical choices the film makes, Nickel Boys’ vitality lies in that search to define the problem and address it head-on. While there is a certain amount of uplift in the picture, it crucially never puts a bow on anything. We still have too much work to do to say it’s all wrapped up. | George Napper
