The summer of 2020 was an explosive one that in many way mirrored the Red Summer of 1919 with protests and the dark specter of black death spread nationwide and beamed into our homes on the news or even through sporting events. The regulatory of widescale protests throughout American history make plain the racial disparities and prejudice endemic in this country on a systemic level, but when discussing racism what can often be lost is how insidious it is as an everyday occurrence in the lives of those targeted; how it makes even the most mundane tasks like job seeking or commerce fraught with obstacles and challenges. Such struggle can wear on a soul, tearing at a person’s dignity bit by bit until they become battle weary and hardened. The latest film adaptation of legendary playwright August Wilson explores this tragic phenomenon.
Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom mainly takes place over the course of an afternoon recording session in 1927 Chicago as band members Cutler (Colman Domingo), Toledo (Glenn Turman), and Slow Drag (Michael Potts) wait to record with star performer and the legendary “Mother of the Blues,” Ma Rainey (Viola Davis).As the band waits in the studio’s claustrophobic rehearsal room, ambitious cornet player Levee (Chadwick Boseman), who has an eye for Ma’s girlfriend Dussie Mae (Taylour Paige) and is determined to stake his own claim on the music industry, agitates everyone around him with his nonstop braggadocio attitude and boasting of his future plans. At the same time, the fearless and fiery Ma engages in a battle of wills with her white manager and producer over control of her music. The confluence of these struggles eventually led to an eruption of egos and emotions that will forever change the course of their lives.
Ma Rainey grabs you from the opening scene, firstly through cinematography and production design that pull you in swiftly and tightly, never letting go through it’s one and a half hour runtime. Its depiction of 1920s Chicago feels completely authentic from the buildings to the streets and the vehicles that travel them, to the wardrobe of the characters. It’s not only the characters’ looks that make an impact however, as the entire ensemble display a chemistry and believability that elevates the film. Colman Domingo continues to make an impact as a supporting actor on the rise in his role as defacto leader of a band trying to integrate a thorny new member. Viola Davis is just as striking and commanding as you expect her to be onscreen, transforming herself completely into the strong-willed, southern diva Ma Rainey who uses her brashness to fight for the little leverage a black artist can have in the early 20th century music industry. Davis’ depiction of a woman confident in herself and confident in the certainty that without strong prodding, the white power structure would screw her over in a heartbeat is both entertaining and impactful in its reinforcement of the film’s theme. Davis is joined in her virtuoso performance by the late Chadwick Boseman in his final role. Much has been made of his appearance in Ma Rainey due to his untimely death earlier this year and Boseman does not disappoint, living up to the buzz his role had coming into the film’s release. Boseman is given a couple of impactful monologues which he knocks out of the park as the volatile Levee whose painful past in Jim Crow America serves as the conduit through which black pain and frustration is explored in the film.
The film’s visual authenticity is matched by Branford Marsalis’ score that feels right at home at the height of southern blues and the ascension of jazz and by the characters themselves, who transport you into the middle of conversations between black people that feel authentic to the times and the generation depicted; the children of former slaves and the first and second generations of African Americans born free. It is this authentic dialogue and period-specific behavior from Ma Rainey’s characters that form the basis of the film’s theme exploring the struggles of black Americans to pursue their dreams and find respect in a society that hostile to both pursuits from people who share their particular hue. Both Ma and Levee represent two sides of the same aspirational, bullheaded coin of black people aiming to get what’s theirs in a hostile world. From the moment we first see Ma in Chicago, it’s made plain how ahead of her time she is in terms of her behavior as a black woman in early 20th century America. Brash, commanding, assertive, lesbian, a diva that demands respect in accordance with her accomplishments. But as the film develops, we learn that there is a very necessary method behind Ma’s madness as she must be forceful in letting it be known what she wants and how she wants it in order for her voice to be heard, for her compensation and that of her band to be fair, and simply for her treatment as a money-making artist to be commensurate to what she deserves.
Levee displays a similarly strategic way of interacting with the greater white power structure in the music business by displaying politeness upfront, in hopes of building himself into a force that possess leverage to get what he wants as Ma has done. In one of the best scenes of the film, Levee explains how this is a strategy he picked up from his father in the course of tragedy in the Jim Crow south that is an all too common occurrence in the black experience in this country. Navigating the obstacles and hostility purposely erected to prevent black people from succeeding has required deliberate cunning and planning to the point where strategizing for success is a process in and of itself. The resulting frustration is made clear and well depicted in Ma Rainey as the characters are shown having to fight with all their might at every turn, just for the smallest bit of progress such as equitable pay for work completed or a “maybe” to getting a song considered for recording. The struggle for humane treatment has been a long and arduous one for black Americans simply seeking happiness and fruitful experiences like the rest of their countrymen. Enduring these hostilities or resentment can add up over time, weighing on you like stones and slowly crushing your spirit like a metaphorical peine forte et dure. Ma Rainey powerfully uses one fictional afternoon in 1927 to put the discriminatory 400+ year black experience on full display.
Although Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is adapted from a stage play, director George C. Wolfe and editor Andrew Mondshein use their skills to carefully craft a work that feels decisively cinematic with varied set changes and camera work so it doesn’t feel as if we’re stuck on one stage watching the film play out. The film is gorgeous to look at and extremely well acted by all who appear onscreen, with Viola Davis submitting another awards worthy performance and Chadwick Boseman turning in an emotionally impactful and charismatic performance in his final gift to audiences, cementing him as this century’s John Cazale, a shooting star that passed through our universe brightly and way too briskly. This film is a raw look at the black experience in America and the effect it has on the average black person’s journey toward success and experience as human beings seeking common decency. A narrative as striking as visuals and the performances contained within.
Image: Netflix
