Your Weekly Dose (11/15/21)
Diverse perspectives on experiences of being black in America is a unifying theme across this week’s prescriptions. As always, thanks for subscribing and sharing.
FILM
Passing
Rebecca Hall’s directorial and writing debut (based on the book by Nella Larsen) Passing centers on two childhood friends that randomly reconnect in adulthood. Irene (Tessa Thompson) is happily married and living in Harlem with her husband Brian (André Holland) and two sons. Claire (Ruth Negga) is passing as white and married to a vehement racist, John (Alexander Skarsgård). Irene is amused by Claire’s decision and lifestyle, but is keenly aware of the accompanying dangers, as she offers Claire a chilling word of warning: “You have a child, Claire. It’s not just a matter of your safety.” At this point in the film, we’ve already met John and have no doubt he would abandon his biracial child…or worse.
Irene and Claire take an increasing interest in one another’s lives, an interest that leads to the crossing and re-crossing of social and personal boundaries that build to an ambiguous conclusion that will have you wondering what just happened. There are shades of Hitchcock here in this ending and in some of the film’s stark cinematography, which also uses a black and white aesthetic to complicate image and color. Thompson and Negga are incredible (as usual) and Holland more than holds his own as Irene’s husband who, while initially put off by Claire, is increasingly enamored of her. Themes of desire, jealousy, and pride are at work here as well. All of this is carried on a beautiful score by Devonté Hynes.
Passing is now streaming on Netflix.
TV
Swagger
Basketball is to Swagger as football is to Friday Night Lights. Both series use sports as a gateway to explore larger social issues. Set in the “DMV” area (D.C., Maryland, Virginia), Swagger is loosely based on the high school life of Kevin Durant, one of the greatest basketball players alive, and tells the story of Jace Carson (newcomer Isaiah Hill), a 14-year-old phenom with the expectations of his family (and an entire community) on his back. While episodes usually conclude with the game of the week, they spend far more time on the off-the-court lives of the characters and the challenges they face growing up black in America.
Social media is pervasive in the series, not only mirroring the hyper-connected lives of its teenage characters but as a promotional and recruiting tool that athletes, coaches, and sneaker execs exploit for their own ends. Like Benedict Men (a recent TV prescription), Swagger shows how basketball and the NBA are often positioned as the only means for young black men to achieve fame and wealth and the unbearable pressure this puts on teenagers to provide for their families and communities. The series doesn’t shy away from other real-world troubles including police profiling and abuse, sexual assault, and even the rise of COVID-19.
Like Friday Night Lights, Swagger boasts an inspirational coach (played by O’Shea Jackson, Jr.) and a force-of-nature female lead in Jace’s mother Jenna (Shinelle Azoroh). The rest of the cast, including Quvenzhané Wallis and Tristan Wilds offer solid support. At a time when empathy is in short supply, it is refreshing to see the types of interactions that ground this series and characters that are unafraid to be honest with each other and engage in the difficult conversations that build strong, lasting relationships, on and off the court.
The first five episodes of Swagger are now streaming on Apple TV+.
They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us
It’s almost impossible to put into words just how eloquently and powerfully Hanif Abdurraqib writes, molding anger, grief, longing and joy into the essays that form They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us. I closed the book and immediately thought of the Hebrew prophet Elijah hearing the voice of God not in a mighty wind, earthquake, or fire, but in a still, small voice. I’ve never had the privilege of attending one of Abdurraqib’s readings, and I’m not sure I’ve actually heard a divine whisper, but his work sure reads like one.
Abdurraqib uses music and, to a lesser degree here, sports to plumb the depths of his childhood and teenage years growing up in Columbus, OH, and his experiences as a black man surviving and thriving in a broken and violent America. Whether it’s reflecting on experiences in the underground punk scene in Columbus or unpacking Future’s album releases from 2015 to 2018 or briefly turning to the world of sports to reflect on Serena’s drive to greatness or tying Johnny Cash to the Migos (yes you read that correctly) to reflect on authenticity and creative license, brilliance flows off of every page. Abdurraqib did recently win a MacArthur “Genius” Fellowship after all, and his most recent book, A Little Devil in America will likely show up in a future Pop Culture Rx post.
They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us is available wherever books are sold, but consider purchasing from an independent bookseller like Prologue Bookshop in Columbus.