Jay Rohr
Nickel Boys is a unique effort to give audiences a perspective they might never experience. Films are often viewed from the outside looking in, but director RaMell Ross aims to bring audiences into events. The onscreen perspective then affords viewers a chance to feel the movie’s myriad horrors and happiness without disconnect. How well it works, though, may be subjective.
Taking place in 1962, the film focuses on Elwood Curtis played by Ethan Herisse (When They See Us). Hitching a ride to college, he unwittingly accepts a lift from a car thief. When the two get arrested young African American Elwood is presumed guilty and sentenced to a reform school called the Nickel Academy. There he befriends Turner, portrayed by Brandon Wilson (Murmur). The two young men then do their best to navigate the segregated school that has no interest in humanizing them.
The film is adapted from a novel entitled The Nickel Boys by Pulitzer Prize winning author Colson Whitehead. The movie does an admirable job of drawing from its source material while utilizing the best from its own form of expression. Most importantly, the cinematic version captures the emotional aspects of the novel, particularly the pain and anger caused by racial injustice but also the delightful joy of young teenagers.
Whatever happiness there is, however, is haunted by the looming hammer of racial intolerance. The depiction of that nightmare is tragically unique. Racism of the Jim Crow south is shown here as a sadly accepted reality. Characters often react to injustice as simply the way things are. They don’t have a sense of hope so much as grim perseverance. Something emphasized by heartbreaking moments courtesy of Aunjanue L. Ellis-Taylor (King Richard) as Hattie, Elwood’s impressive grandmother.
Nickel Boys is shot entirely from a first-person perspective. This should not be confused with found footage films which are technically from the camera’s point of view. Nickel Boys is shot as if looking through the eyes of its main characters. That means the audience sees what they see, but perhaps more importantly, shows when they choose to look away. The movie is as much about what people observe as it is the things individuals choose not to witness. Such is the paradox of unpleasant history, the obvious ignored through willful blindness is seemingly unnoticed. And Nickel Boys makes that painfully plain.
However, this stylization does more than put the audience in the shoes of its main characters. It also allows for a connection to be formed between the two primary roles, Elwood and Turner. Regardless of their differing philosophies on life, not to mention their different temperaments, these young men are tragically bound by the circumstances they encounter.
Make no mistake, watching a movie isn’t the same as living a life. Yet, Nickel Boys does it’s best to share a point of view in a way more humanizing than many dramas. Part of that is because the movie doesn’t always spell things out. When suggestive noises ring out in the dead of night, the audience is as unaware of what they mean as Elwood as the view darts about looking around in terror. Then, once the source of such sounds is made clear, the gut-wrenching revelation leaves one sick with the same dread that has a young man pacing in terrible anticipation of an approaching fate.
Nickel Boys never makes it easy for the audience. Besides the emotional impact of many moments, the narrative doesn’t unfold with much laid out. Events, particularly in the beginning, jump across time showing glimpses of events in Elwood’s life. It’s easy enough to piece these together into an impression of the young man, but this is not a movie for idle viewing. Occasionally the point of view shifts from Elwood to Turner, and though director RaMell Ross does a solid job of leaving ways to notice the difference, things may get briefly confusing.
In addition, the whole film isn’t always from a first-person point of view. Segments also take place in later decades with Daveed Diggs (Blindspotting) as an older Elwood. These allow for encounters with other “graduates” of the Nickel Academy as well as his reactions to a burgeoning investigation into the facility circa 2010. Inattentive viewers may miss the subtle signs of who this character is, especially as they are shot focusing only on his back keeping the character faceless. In addition to maintaining the theme of the unseen, it also draws attention to his body language as the weight of traumatic decades presses down on him.
Performances in the Nickel Boys are mostly fantastic. Brandon Wilson is marvelous as a cynical young man just trying to enjoy what he can in a world full of hate. Ethan Herisse delivers quiet optimism fueled by a percolating rage he’s never allowed to express. Aunjanue L. Ellis-Taylor as Hattie provides a powerful character few performers could ideally bring to life. She knows when to cry, and how to rebuild on the ruins, and should receive nominations for some awards.
Director RaMell Ross started filmmaking with the 2018 documentary Hale County This Morning, This Evening. In that picture he utilized “documentary’s language of truth” which could “participate, not capture; shoot from not at.” Similar vibes are at work in Nickel Boys as he endeavors to tell a story focusing on humanity as much as the traumatic elements. The implication of things is often more profound as audiences are forced to admit what they know is happening even when they don’t see it. This also results in a stirring take on the memories which make up a person.
Nickel Boys is a powerful adaptation. It lays bare many truths about racial injustice without relying on trauma porn. While illuminating dark parts of the past, RaMell Ross and writer Joslyn Barnes aim to have the humanity of their characters shine through. Though voice acting sometimes stumbles, performances are solid across the board. Nickel Boys is a profoundly moving film, uniquely envisioned, that deserves recognition.
