Antebellum

“Confident, sexy, fat, and dark-skinned, Dawn is an effortless flirt who responds to attention the way any gorgeous, spoiled woman would.”

Title: Antebellum (2020)
Directors: Gerard Bush 👨🏾🇺🇸🌈 and Christoper Renz 👨🏼🇺🇸🌈
Writers: Gerard Bush 👨🏾🇺🇸🌈 and Christoper Renz 👨🏼🇺🇸🌈

Reviewed by Keturah Kendrick 👩🏾🇺🇸

Note: This review was commissioned by Lionsgate. The content and methodology remain 100% independent and in line with Mediaversity's non-commissioned reviews.

—SPOILERS AHEAD—

Technical: 3.5/5

In their debut Antebellum, filmmakers Gerard Bush and Christoper Renz allude to literary texts from fantasy and horror genres to tell a story of American slavery from the perspective of the enslaved. Bush and Renz have insisted any allusions to other works are merely coincidental. However, sci-fi and fantasy fans continue to see the premise as a mirror of Octavia Butler’s Kindred, where a 20th century Black American woman is called back to the late 1800s by the spirit of an ancestor seeking justice for generational torture.

In the film, Janelle Monáe plays both Eden, an enslaved woman during the Civil War era, and Veronica, Eden’s descendant in the 21st century. Eden exacts revenge on her enslavers in a way reminiscent of Edgar Allen Poe’s story, The Cask of Amontillado: She tricks them into an enclosed space, seals the door, and throws a lit torch through the window before escaping the plantation. I appreciate these allusions, no matter how coincidental they might be. The first feels like homage to Butler, the most critically acclaimed Black woman sci-fi writer in recent memory. The second strikes me as Bush and Renz acknowledging Poe as the originator of this suspense-building plot device, among others.

But oh, how I wish Bush and Renz trusted their audience the way Butler and Poe did their readers. Many of the scenes in Antebellum lack even an attempt at nuance. We are often force-fed messages; when Eden exacts justice on the mistress of the plantation, she does so beneath a monument to Confederate general Robert E. Lee. The camera pans to the inscription on the statue, just so we are clear that this evil white lady got what was coming to her right under a major symbol of white supremacy. Moments like this, when filmmakers insist on connecting the dots for viewers when the puzzle is already so easy, comes off as almost insulting.

It’s not all bad, though. Stylish cinematography ensures that Monáe glows in each frame. Strong art direction, gorgeous costuming, and impressive performances by Monáe and her co-stars—Gabourey Sidibe and Kiersey Clemons, in particular—all offer something of interest. I only wish the writing could live up to the above. When the plantation mistress slowly goads Eden with the line “You are nothing but a cotton picker,” I had to stifle a laugh. This is the most ruthless retort she could come up with? A. Cotton. Picker?

More than just bad dialogue, however, the script also fails to merge the two worlds it creates. Although both Eden and Veronica fight forms of white terrorism specific to their eras, the two narratives lack cohesion. It feels like we’ve been asked to watch a period piece about a slave rebellion in parallel to a progressive, modern race-related movie. Bush and Renz rush to tie loose ends together mere moments before the credits roll. Admittedly, the “reveal” of how Eden and Veronica’s worlds connect is clever, and the cinematography in the final scenes looks extraordinary. But it’s all too little, too late.

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

Many films written and directed by men fail their female protagonists, but thankfully, Bush and Renz serve theirs well from a representation standpoint. Displaying leadership and a strategic mind, Eden implements her plan for freedom and guides the enslaved who are hellbent on escape. She does have a co-conspirator in Eli (Tongayi Chirisa), but he defers to her when it’s time to make decisions about their plan to run away. He even protects her, offering his own body to be brutalized when an overseer targets Eden. Eli offers his support both emotionally and physically, and it’s positive to see a Black woman given this due.

There are also well-defined female friendships in both Eden and Veronica’s stories. On the plantation, Julia (Clemons) arrives as a newly bought enslaved woman whose taste for freedom is even stronger than Eden’s. She has Eden’s commitment to escape, but not her patience to wait for the right moment. Because of this, Eden keeps a watchful eye, acting as the wiser older sister whose own failed attempts at escape make her all the more concerned for the young, impulsive Julia.

In Veronica’s story, Dawn (Sidibe) serves as Veronica’s friend and cheerleader even as she chastises her for working too hard. Importantly, Veronica gives back to the friendship and allows Dawn to be carefree and vivacious in ways that are off-limits to Veronica as a public figure who has lucrative speaking engagements to consider. In a movie that is intentional in making the slave narrative one of revolt and resistance, presenting Black women as allies to each other instead of adversaries is a smart choice.

Race: 4/5

It’s important to acknowledge that writer-director Bush is a Black man who tells story of white terrorism from the perspective of the terrorized. It follows, then, that the portrayal of Black characters is as complex as it can be given a poorly written script.

The dynamics between the Black men and Black women are presented in a positive light, with the partnership between Veronica and her husband Nick (Marque Richardson) framed as mutually supportive: When Veronica prepares to leave for a speaking engagement, Nick makes breakfast and gets their young daughter ready for school, making clear that he’s been the primary caregiver for a while. He shows no signs of resentment, and it’s suggested that Veronica’s career has blossomed as a result of not having to take on the extra childcare and household labor disproportionately shouldered by women.

It gives me great pause, however, that the first fifteen minutes of this film is devoted to graphic brutality of the Black body for no other reason than to show graphic brutality of the Black body. Yes, I know the movie takes place during American slavery, the most brutal act of human trafficking this country has ever sanctioned. However, I bristled to see the prolonged destruction. It didn’t make me any more or any less aware of how dehumanizing this institution was to the enslaved. It didn’t make me sympathize any more or any less with Eden and her focus on escape. Who wouldn’t want to escape slavery?

What purpose do these extended reenactments of torture serve other than more Black trauma porn? I’m sure the filmmakers would argue the “big reveal” at the end justifies those first fifteen minutes. My counter to such an argument would be that had Bush and Renz been more thoughtful in their storytelling, they wouldn’t have needed either.

Bonus for Body Diversity: +0.25

Dawn is a dark-skinned, fat Black woman who’s friends with the thin and brown-skinned Veronica. This could have easily gone left real quick. Dawn could have been loud and obnoxious as the funny “sidekick” who Veronica has to remind is beautiful. Thankfully, the filmmakers sidestep those tropes and viewers get to see Dawn as an effortless flirt who responds to attention the way any gorgeous, spoiled woman would. Instead of working hard to convince us she is a confident, sexy, fat, dark-skinned woman, Sidibe portrays someone who simply is confident, sexy, fat, and dark-skinned.

Mediaversity Grade: B+ 4.25/5

Antebellum tries to present a narrative about slavery and its legacy. Unfortunately, poor implementation will likely mark Antebellum as the latest slave movie that got everybody mad. Still, earnest performances by Monáe, Sidibe, Chirisa, and Clemons somewhat make up for sloppy storytelling and heavy-handed proselytizing. Not a bad debut for new filmmakers, I suppose.

Like Antebellum? Try these other Black-led titles set during American history.

Grade: BLiSeptember 18, 2020