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| Mudbound film poster. |
Some films are good. Some films are terrific. Only few will tug at a person's innermost emotions and grip them in its strong, riveting chokehold like a tough, combative wrestler by very end. And Mudbound is that nitty, gritty fighter film that ignites countless thought.
An intense American historical drama entailing egregious societal infrastructure set in stone for black and white residents of the deep South,
Mudbound is a real solid game changer for a Netflix feature. Writer/director/producer, Dee Rees addresses-- with such vital clarity-- this racially fueled class system that has established a gross power imbalance since colonialism and slavery upset the natural selection of the whole entire world, leaving behind a great generational devastation.
For starters, raised by Pappy, a vulgar racist father, Jamie and Henry McAllan are brothers who couldn't be any more different from one another. While younger Jamie is bright, reckless, and charismatic, older Henry is a practical and spineless simpleton. Metaphorically throughout the film, the analogy is crystal clear-- Jamie represents dawning of a needed crucial change-- accepting others regardless of race, status, and creed whereas Henry holds on tightly to white privilege like a stern, stubborn mule, his father's son without crass indecency.
Henry marries a spoiled socialite, Laura and they have two children. Henry, who imposes his male dominance over Laura, makes the decision to waste their money on farmland down in Mississippi, and Laura, who absolutely detests the move, has no authority on the matter. Jamie is fighting on European soil, dropping bombs from the sky, bearing witness to the ugly, violent sides of war. The accumulation of medals and honors do not diminish mental and emotional trauma. Jamie returns to America scarred and hurting, using drinking as a consolatory outlet for his pain.
In Mississippi, the Jackson family are humble brood, led by Hap, a preacher with a passionate, authoritative voice in the church and Florence, a loving, devoted mother who would do anything to break the psychological cycle of a mother she barely knew. Ronsel, their eldest son, goes off to become a soldier, thrown into the same fiery ring as Jamie, but is treated like an equal.
The McAllan's and the Jackson's intersect on this gorgeous piece of muddy land with promises of becoming more than what anyone has ever dreamed. However, the power balance is established the moment Henry rudely interrupts the Jackson's dinner, forcing the master and slave relationship to take repulsive shape, eventually threatening to rupture the mesmerizing strength of Hap and Florence. It is quite fascinating to address the differences between how Henry treats Laura and how Hap sees Florence. Henry and Laura are a union of comfort, a product of society privilege. When it comes to Jamie, Laura comes to life, having bitten the taste of forbidden passion, that real intense ardor that of course, Pappy can see. In Hap and Florence's case, the love and tenderness is a sweet dosed prescription of strong, foundational black romance. Hap sees Florence as an equal, a queen and he respects her.
Under the wary, watchful eyes of town, Jamie and Ronsel return from war, changed, eventually forming an intriguing bond.
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| Jamie (Garrett Hedlund) befriends Ronsel (Jason Mitchell) despite the turmoil of white and black mingling beyond silent acknowledgement. |
"Have you ever been with a white woman?" Jamie asks Ronsel.
Ronsel smiles with pride, jogs around the answer before diving into the nitty gritty affirmative, then later adding:
"We had to show them who we were."
Ronsel's words about proving his humanity to white women (aka sexually) is a startling revelation about black people's desire to be on equal footing with their oppressor. Since his return, he wishes to make the white men see him as a man, especially considering that he fought on their side during war. European white women had freely dallied with Ronsel and his black cavalry, that is after these men proved their fetishist worth, why doesn't the white men show such appreciative kindness, respect even?
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| In another power trip, after learning what Florence (Mary J. Blige) can do, spoiled Laura (Carey Mulligan) demands the woman to work for her on a permanent basis. |
This mirrors Laura's interpretation of Florence. When Henry fetches the woman to cure his daughters' whooping coughs, Laura doesn't warm up to the idea at first, until she realizes that Florence is indeed useful. Without asking Florence herself, Laura demands that the woman "help" her with the children. Reluctantly, Florence agrees, breaking her own inner promise, sadly repeating the life of her mother.
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| Henry (Jason Clarke) once again requesting help from Hap (Rob Morgan). |
Mudbound is rich, concise, layered complexity. The cast operates like a well oiled machine, perfecting their individual parts with brilliant tenacity, grace, and harrowing conviction. Their gritty Southern twanged voice overs, like vital, melodic poems recited at the podium, are painful, dispirited, joyous stories of strife and happiness, of wanting and valuing change, of simple desires. The watchers must snap fingers and cheer collectively at these performances. Mary J. Blige is utterly wonderful as Florence, valiant, soft, and encouraging, with her expressive facial expressions, vocal ability to being a compassionate wife to a broken mother. Carey Mulligan also holds her own as a privileged woman torn by social duty and captivating passion for things that she cannot have. Jason Mitchell is great at portraying Ronsel's struggles with coming back to a town that doesn't deserve his allegiance-- the ending alone ensures a huge sob fest. Plus Kennedy Derosin plays Lilly May Jackson, the young daughter of Hap and Florence, aspiring to become a stenographer. In one scene, she stands her ground against her laughing brothers who don't believe black people can step out of their station. Florence sternly tells him that Lilly May can become anything she wants to be. That smile shared between mother and daughter as well as the scene of Lilly May reading stenography books are beautiful touches about chasing dreams and receiving the treasure of female support. On
Film Comment, Rees explains why she choose this path as opposed to Hillary Jordan's original writing.
"My grandmother grew up in the small town of Ferriday in Louisiana,” said
Rees. “She was born in 1925, and she’d talk about riding on her
mother’s cotton sack. They owned their land, but they farmed it, and her
parents cultivated cotton. She decided early on that she didn’t want to
do that, nor did she want to be a domestic. She said she wanted to be a
stenographer, so that was a touch I added in the film, when the
Jacksons’ daughter declares her career ambition. In [Hillary Jordan’s]
book, she can sing, but I didn’t want it to be the typical ‘little black
girl can sing’ thing. I found it more interesting that she had this
other ambition.”
Everyone and their grandparents should watch
Mudbound. Yes, it would have been epic to see this in theaters, to witness this resoundingly important piece be on the giant big screen. Still, it's humbling to be at home, to not pause this history, to let every bit of the McAllans and the Jacksons steal eyes and ears. Don't let the Netflix factor fool you or anyone else into believing that this isn't a worthy accomplishment of integrity nestled between the acting, the cinematography, music, and all.
