‘Nightwatcher,’ Greatest Vulnerabilities Reveal A Black Girl’s Greatest Weapon

 

Leila (Arséma Thomas) has a very special gift. DP: Alexander Mejía.

Octavia Butler’s Kindred seems to arrive in the surprising form of Amira Hasib’s 2018 short film, Nightwatcher. Newcomer Arséma Thomas (who portrays Queen Charlotte’s young Lady Agatha Danbury) stars as Leila, a Black woman with the phenomenal ability to leave situations that frighten her. However, unlike Dana whose shifts from past and present occur the moment she moves into a new home, Leila appears to have had the adapted the skill since childhood— and it happens a whenever she needs saving. 

A passive Leila (Rylee King) quietly takes the abuse. DP: Alexander Mejía.

In the schoolroom, Leila endures cruel teasing from two giggling girls and a teacher who does little to reprimand the bullies. Leila’s friend and classmate Lance tells Leila to ignore them— an early instruction to be complacent, to simply say or do nothing. A conditioned Leila must be on her best behavior even when all around her is civil disobedience and undermined chaos. She internalizes her frustration, her agony, and her despair. To stand up for herself against her attackers (the innocent white girls) potentially categorizes Leila as disrespectful, wild, and unruly. 

“Please just ignore them,” Lance (Destin Hopkins) repeats. DP: Alexander Mejía.

Lance cannot protect Leila either. The collateral damage thrown his way means a more severe punishment for him and a cry out for feminism (and it’s problematic lack of intersections). Despite Lance’s soft and tender nature, if he blasted the two girls, they would paint him as a violent catalyst— an instigator. 

Thus, in these few minutes alone, only two kids are allowed a carefree existence (under the disguise of prejudice) while Leila and Lance withhold any disciplinary reaction. Once class is dismissed, Leila runs out into the bathroom and the two bullies give chase with a concerned Lance hot on the trail. As the torturers play an even naughtier game, daringly raising scissors near the bubblegum they’ve stuck into Leila’s hair, Leila suddenly vanishes into thin air. 

An unsmiling Leila takes a look at her reflection. DP: Alexander Mejía.

Leila stretches her hair against her cheek. DP: Alexander Mejía.

The mirror repeatedly reinforces an acknowledgment.  

Leila is beautiful, lovely, precious.  

The colonized globe wants everyone to hate their reflections and mimic all things European. It takes time for a persuaded mindset to relearn history; to prioritize self over prevalent media representation. Often, the first people that harm us are not the pictures on television or in books— it’s our peers in the classroom. Leila’s crushing experiences are eerily similar to endless Black girls. This still exists today and will exist tomorrow. 

Older Leila (Arséma Thomas) is pleased with her appearance— straight haired bob and impeccable makeup. DP: Alexander Mejía.

At a mundane party, an adult Leila practices her powers in the mirror; hoping to return home. The disappearance act only works in genuinely frightening situations— not as an operative excuse to flee boring life events. That small isolated moment grants a taste of Leila’s carefree spirit. Perhaps she has been practicing for years, testing out her powers for other possibilities. Still, she deserves inside joking as a coping mechanism in light of her supernatural abilities relying on pure vulnerability, on being extremely scared. 

Meanwhile, Leila surrounds herself with good friends Lance and Kailey. Instead of hanging out at Leila’s place, however, Kailey has other plans: a man who can afford an expensive Uber XL to pick her up from random parties. 

Leila and Michelle (Sydney Thomas) hide out in a dull party’s bathroom. DP: Alexander Mejía. 

Older Lance (Jashawn Richardson), Michelle (Sydney Thomas), and Leila (Arséma Thomas) leave out the party. DP: Alexander Mejía.

Once Kailey’s ride comes and she ditches her friends for a boyfriend rendezvous, Leila and Lance walk alone in the night together. If only the generous boyfriend had paid for Leila and Lance to get home too— even though, yes, that’s a tough ask in this society, in this economy.

Leila and Lance are stopped before heading home. DP: Alexander Mejía. 

The man berates them and acts like a cop. DP: Alexander Mejía.

Unfortunately, Leila and Lance are immediately pursued. The white male stranger tells a story of a nearby robbed liquor store, believing they fit the description. He does not allow them to leave. The situation escalates, the man impermissibly searching and pushing Lance on the ground. The man— conditionally convinced of guilt and wrongdoing— does not buy their stories or that their IDs are genuine. A horrified Leila moves her body, seeming prepared to launch an attack of her own. Instead, Leila grabs hold; causing both she and Lance to disappear together. 

Leila pulls off her wig and breathes. Maybe she remembers wanting to flee the party earlier. Lance probably would not have made it home. DP: Alexander Mejía.

Lance is still shaken by the event. DP: Alexander Mejía.

Nightwatcher— found on Thomas’s Wikipedia page versus IMDb and Letterboxd— showcases the various racist encounters that Black people face every single day, no matter their age. People would write off girls putting gum in another’s hair as “something kids do,” write off bullying as though bullying does not impact emotional/psychological development in addition to Leila’s temporarily destroying physical presentation. Moreover, the harmful neighborhood watch, police, and “do-gooder” bystanders cause trauma.  

Pratt Institute alum writer/director Amira Hasib demonstrates tenacious skill in Nightwatcher— a piercing dedication to the many Black girls and women in the tragically ongoing Say Her Name movement. A story begins with ferocious laughter at a Black girl’s expense and ends on a Black woman’s tearful note echoes the daily struggle, that familiar sad rite of passage. Hasib candidly depicts Leila’s presence as one to be tolerated or extinguished. Yet, Leila’s bravery lies in the supernatural force ensuring that the latter does not become an option for her or Lance. She can be afraid, she can let fear overcome her senses, her entire being. Although Lance implies that Leila can save others, the question becomes could her consciousness bear the heavy burdens of trauma after trauma— hers and those that she rescues? Then, the lingering memories would perhaps overload her mind, destroy any remaining fragilities. She is human too. 

Hasib’s unique fifteen-minute narrative should have been a remarkable basis for that Kindred series— something that Mrs. Butler would applaud. Leila is the modern-day Dana— just a Black girl surviving and trying to thrive in a society that still reminds her and her friends that they will always be treated differently. 

Leila and Lance reflect on the rooftop. DP: Alexander Mejía.

The cast shines in their limited yet powerful screen time: Rylee King (who utters not a single word) and Arséma Thomas both portraying Leila at specific moments where they are made aware of the Black stigma; Destin Hopkins and Jashawn Richardson as two Lance’s, a little worried boy who encounters the most horrifying experience as a Black young adult male. The saturated colors, especially the pleasing pinks and purples of Alexander Mejía‘s commendable cinematography build up Leila’s complicated world. Plus, perfectly lit Black skin impresses every scene. 

The evocative, thought-provoking Nightwatcher inches between realistic drama and subdued science fiction; keeping in mind that Black people are rarely allowed an opportunity to be innocent in the eyes of those who do see color first and human last— if ever at all. 

Leila’s purpose is both a beautiful sentiment and a profound poem embodying authentic Black love.