I had to watch RaMell Ross’ beautifully poetic adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s book Nickel Boys a couple of times. To be fair, Ross himself introduced our screening by saying that we would likely need to do just that, and he was right. Because the first time you are just overwhelmed by his choice to present the story in a nonlinear, stream-of-consciousness fashion, from the characters’ first-person perspective. Ross, a documentarian whose exquisitely intimate Hale County This Morning, This Evening offered a similar approach, puts you right in their shoes and while every step is incredibly painful and infuriating, you can’t help but be distracted.
Upon second viewing, I was ready to fully absorb Nickel Boys for all that it’s worth. At times it’s extremely difficult to watch; the societal challenges, the racism, the abuses, are almost too much to bear when we’re put right into the characters’ shoes. The story is a work of fiction, but it’s based on a terrible truth that remained hidden for far too long, and ended way too close to the present.
Ross begins Nickel Boys in extremes, to get you acclimated to the view that you’ll be experiencing throughout. Shot in 4:3 aspect ratio to provided an even greater sense of intimacy, we see forced close-ups of various household items. They mean nothing to us, but through this strong sense of nostalgia we can tell they mean something to the child remembering them. The kid is Elwood (played by Cole Sharp and later by Ethan Herisse), who lives in Jim Crow-era Florida with his grandmother Hattie (Oscar winner Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor). She swooped in to care for Elwood when his parents vanished, and she has raised a brilliant, politically active child. He’s well on his way to make something with his life, with Elwood’s teacher (The Last Black Man in San Francisco‘s Jimmie Fails) setting him up for a spot at university. However, the journey there ends with Elwood being railroaded. His crime, getting into the car of a stranger driving a stolen car, gets him sent to the Nickel Boys Academy, which is about as far from a place of learning as possible.
The Nickel Boys Academy isn’t a real place, but it’s based on the Dozier School for Boys, a real-life Hell on Earth. While one side of the institution, where the white kids are, seems like a relatively normal reform school. But on the other side where the Black kids stay, they are beaten, forced into hard labor, and even killed. Most people aren’t going to care what happened to poor Black kids in the south, anyway.
This place seems like a nightmare, but Ross and co-writer Joslyn Barnes don’t indulge in the brutalizing of Black bodies. In keeping with the film’s surreal quality, brought to mesmerizing life by All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt DP Jomo Fray, much is left to our vivid imaginations which only makes the cruelty more impactful. Just when things seem like they will be too dark, Elwood meets Turner (Brandon Wilson), who has the street smarts to match Elwood’s book smarts. Together, they make one another’s lives a little bit brighter, with actual hope of getting out and becoming the men they were always meant to be.
We see flashes of this possible future with dreamlike diversions in which an adult Elwood (played by Daveed Diggs) continues grappling with the trauma of his time at the Academy. Inspired by the words of MLK, this life seems like an alternate universe compared to the reality that Elwood lived through. The newspapers are filling up with stories about dead bodies being found on the campus grounds, and Elwood weighs whether he should speak up and make himself known.
Ross could’ve done a straight adaptation that captured Whitehead’s book faithfully, but that would never have captured the boys’ unbreakable spirits the way Nickel Boys ultimately does. Fray and Ross have created a gorgeous work of art that invests as much into the first person perspective, usually Elwood, as to the subjective which is mostly Turner. It can be a bit jarring when the perspectives switch, and I do think Ross loses the thread as the film wears on, which makes the conceit feel unnatural. When that happens, you find yourself wanting a bit less of Ross’ artistic flourishes. In particular, I wanted all of Hattie’s scenes to be more conventional because Ellis-Taylor is such a phenomenal, emotional actress that she warrants our full attention. As usual, she does not disappoint.
Nickel Boys is deserving of all of the high praise it has been receiving. Ross’ bold, ambitious, imperfect effort is a work of art that will have filmmakers looking at new ways to bring adaptations to cinematic life. And like any work of art, it is also a challenging reflection of real life’s wonders and wickedness.
Nickel Boys is in theaters now from Amazon MGM Studios.
