Ludi

“Ludi successfully humanizes the sometimes one-dimensional idea of ‘immigrant grit.’”

Title: Ludi (2021)
Director: Edson Jean 👨🏾🇺🇸
Writers: Edson Jean 👨🏾🇺🇸 and Joshua Jean-Baptiste 👨🏾🇺🇸

Reviewed by Li 👩🏻🇺🇸

Technical: 4/5

Born in South Florida to Haitian immigrant parents, filmmakers Edson Jean and Joshua Jean-Baptiste set out to capture their multi-ethnic culture in Ludi. The succinct feature clocks in at just 81 minutes and screened at this month’s SXSW. Under Jean’s direction, it follows a Haitian immigrant woman named Ludi (Shein Mompremier) who works tirelessly as a caregiver in her pursuit of the ever-elusive “American dream.”

The filmmakers’ love for Miami can be palpably felt through sunbleached montages of kids playing; an abandoned church with a sign in Haitian Creole; or a family posed for a photo against a chain link fence. The handheld camera and grainy quality during these vignettes recall home videos shot on tape. But like so much of the immigrant experience, nostalgia comes hand-in-hand with tough realities. Using a microscope that magnifies Ludi’s internal transformation, the film carries viewers through an emotional journey that ranges from optimistic zeal to hopelessness to, eventually, a sense of peace.

Given its small aperture, however, the story can sometimes feel constrained to solely Ludi’s world. More of an impression than a universal allegory, the time you spend in her headspace provides an illuminating diversion. Furthermore, Jean and Jean-Baptiste successfully humanize the sometimes one-dimensional idea of immigrant grit. By showcasing Ludi’s vulnerability, their film reminds audiences that the immigrants who surround us, often in essential roles such as Ludi’s work as a caregiver in a nursing home, are just as fallible and deserving of grace as any other American.

Gender: 5/5
Does it pass the Bechdel Test? YES

For a movie made by two men and with an almost all-male group of producers and executive producers—four of the five listed on IMDB are men—Ludi still finds roaring success as a female-centered story. Based on his own mother’s journey from Haiti to Miami, Jean carries that realism through to the screen, fully intact.

They start by getting the basics right, such as hiring a cast that’s majority-female to accurately portray a profession made up of almost 83% women in the United States, with fully 1 in 5 personal care aides immigrant women like Ludi or her fellow Haiti-born coworker Marie (Kerline Alce). In addition, women like Ludi’s roommate Blanca (Madelin Marchant), Ludi’s family back in Haiti, or the nursing home director, Miss Retta (Patrice DeGraff-Arenas), all add to the diversity of women who exemplify unique backgrounds, ages, and personalities.

On a deeper level, Ludi’s emotional ties begin and end with women. True, the main relationship that instigates a turning point in her journey involves the conciliation with an unwilling charge named George (Alan Myles Heyman). But it’s women who ground Ludi’s character, such as her deep and worn love for someone who occupies her mobile lock screen, alluded to be her mother, and who later gets an important cameo in a brief, surrealist capacity. Meanwhile, her cousin Gerline (Farah Larrieux) marks Ludi’s primary conduit to the Caribbean as the two women swap audio recordings on tape and suffuse the film with their playful back-and-forth voiceovers. Finally, the one who truly holds the lock and key to Ludi’s heart is a child named Fafa, under the care of Gerline. Ludi works herself to the bone in order to make Fafa happy through tokens like a brand-new dress. Watching Ludi juggle a wide array of relationships with different kinds of women feels enriching to behold.

Race: 5/5

Not only does Ludi employ a specifically Haitian American point of view, it also accurately depicts the intersections of Black and brown communities in Miami through natural relationships that take place through proximity and work.

For example, we see Ludi share scenes with her roommate Blanca, played by multiracial and Hispanic actor Madelin Marchant, who naturally switches between Spanish and Spanglish depending on who her character is speaking to. Their friendship feels wholly unvarnished, friendly but with complexities brought to the fore through situations like Ludi owing Blanca rent money; Blanca guilt-tripping Ludi into taking on a private gig that goes against nursing home policy; or even in quick exchanges like the way Blanca calls Ludi “negrita,” a fraught term of endearment that has spawned plenty of discussion surrounding colorism and colonialism.

Even intra-ethnic diversity can be seen through Ludi’s exchanges with various Haitian Americans. While many of them converse in Haitian Creole, interspersed with English, generational dissonance can be seen through characters like Ludi’s colleague Marie or the Trump-supporting bus driver Brother Julien (Plus Pierre), both of whom harp on the twenty-something Ludi to find a husband, get married, and have babies.

Neither does Ludi fit in perfectly with Black Americans her age. A fellow nursing home employee, Evans (Success St. Fleur Jr.), demonstrates that barrier when he leaves the break room table so that Ludi and Marie can have what he calls their “zoe lady chat” in private.

All told, a broad swathe of Miami’s denizens feel represented in Ludi—a particularly impressive feat, given the film’s small cast and short runtime.

Bonus for Age: +0.50

The private gig that Ludi takes on at the behest of Blanca involves looking after George, played by Alan Myles Heyman who was 83 at the time of the film’s world premiere at Miami Film Festival. Given George’s important role as the catalyst for Ludi’s personal transformation, and portrayal as a clever man who outsmarts Ludi in multiple instances (such as swapping water when she spikes his glass with melatonin), this category should actually be scored higher. However, the residents in the nursing home where Ludi, Marie, and Evans work are stereotypically portrayed as comatose adults who never say a word. When Evans waves jello at Miss McArthur (Carol Caselle) and sneaks a bite of her food before she gets any, it adds to the sense that while George may be humanized, every other character over 60 exists as set dressing or as the recipient of age-related punchlines about dim-wittedness or incontinence.

Bonus for Religion: +0.25

The Haitian characters in Ludi all wear their Catholicism on their sleeves—or in the case of Brother Julien, on a hat that says “I ❤️ Jesus”. Portrayed with naturalism, like much of the film’s approach to various subjects, we see people interact with their faith in everyday ways. In one scene, Marie and Ludi send up a casual prayer and later, George’s Judaism presents an entry point for him and Ludi to find common ground. While George’s religion is first introduced through surface-level interjections in Yiddish—“schmuck” and “shiksa” being clear giveaways—they come together most through shared prayer. When Ludy says “in Jesus’ name”, George clears his throat and she quickly corrects herself, “In the Lord’s name.” These small but realistic details definitely don’t go unappreciated.

Deduction for Disability: -0.25

With some overlap in the way Ludi depicts older characters, disability is similarly waved off by caretakers in ways that may feel believable, but still come off as slightly mean-spirited for a film that seeks so hard to humanize its protagonists of Ludi and George.

While Evans is hardly presented as a bastion of goodness, considering how he’s introduced with a self-indulgent fart that Marie exasperatedly waves off, it still feels unnecessary to hear him joke, “I think he be faking with that whole paralyzed thing” about one of their residents. In addition, Blanca denigrates patients with dementia, flippantly saying to Ludi that they’re easy to take care of because you just “treat them like babies.” The dialogue feels one-sided when the folks they speak of aren’t there to defend themselves.

Luckily, the complex character of George falls under this group as someone with mobility issues—he gets around with a walker and requires physical support to shower or use the bathroom—and his representation helps mitigate some of the issues in this area.

Mediaversity Grade: A 4.83/5

Ludi is a gentle gem that spotlights the Haitian American experience. By focusing on one woman’s journey in giving herself the space to be just a little bit fallible, audiences anywhere can plug into her narrative and follow along for a beautifully filmed impression of immigrant strength and—more importantly—immigrant humanity.

Like Ludi? Try these other humanistic character studies of women.

Grade: ALiMarch 27, 2021Great for: Age, Great for: Gender, Great for: Race