Love Comes Unexpectedly In ‘Umjolo There Is No Cure’

 

Thoko (Londeka Sishi) and Liana (Busisiwe Msthali) take the long route towards love in Mthunzi Dubazana’s Umjolo There Is No Cure. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

Hell breaks loose when Thoko Duma, South Africa’s out and proud reigning Beauty Queen disrespects newly crowned Miss Kenya on the radio. With Thoko’s queendom revoked and endorsements disappearing, she has no other choice but to crash at her agent Buhle’s roomy, posh apartment. 

Buhle (Tina Redman) and Thoko’s professional relationship has an easy going edge. They act more sisterly than client/agent. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

Thoko wants to save her reputation throwing out ideas that’ll make the public be on her side again— a reality TV show and writing a memoir. Buhle stands in her client’s corner one hundred percent on most matters (like giving her girl a home). Thoko and Buhle are both proud queer women whose strong relationship has a sweet, tender vibe that’s great to see outside of the stereotypical graphic violence depicted towards lesbians. Buhle encourages Thoko to branch out, promising to save her from the unfortunate mess. 

Liana Ndluvo runs Black Books. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

Liana nervously looking over the luxurious place she’s built. She’s the kind of writer who prefers to hide under a shroud of mystery than entertain the public eye for even a second. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

On the opposite spectrum, noted romance author and Black Books owner Liana Ndluvo thrives on anonymity. No one knows what she looks other than her overbearing mother and best friend Zweli, musician, visual artist, and main Black Books employee. Unlike Satin’s tightly packed, eye enchantment bookshop depicted in Water in a Broken Glass, Liana’s Black Books is an airy paradise. Spacious surroundings, books pushed against walls, strategically placed tables, comfortable chairs, and sporadic plants entice inhabitants to relax and linger for a while. Black business owners often employ individualized models that venture beyond a singular purpose. For example, Satin’s bookstore shows art and offers custom framing whereas Liana includes a complete cafe experience serving beverages and desserts like butterscotch cake and cookies. 

Liana is grateful for Thoko’s thoughtful encouragement. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

At the planned book signing in her own shop, Liana’s panic attack causes her to flee from the fans waiting to finally meet their favorite anonymous author. Anxiety and shyness mixed together with social interaction amps up an all-too believable fear. A chance encounter with a woman who’ll eventually change her life makes Liana feel much better. 

And that woman is Thoko. 

Zweli is the nonjudgmental support system that Liana needs. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

When Zweli interferes into Liana’s plans, she decides to take on another identity Nana, Liana’s personal assistant, secretly accommodating Thoko’s wish to have her favorite author pen her memoir. Thoko doesn’t question Liana’s holed story, doesn’t bring up that in their impromptu meeting Liana claims to be saddened over “Liana not showing.” Now she’s the assistant to the woman she was upset over? Thoko wasn’t caring about addressing the facts at all. Perhaps the instant attraction blinded Thoko to consider Nana being Liana. 

Thoko spends a lot of time with researcher “Nana.” A sweet connection forms, blossoming into more than “Nana” taking notes for Thoko’s memoir. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

Still, Liana may be a writer, but she’s a terrible liar. 

Naturally, as the polar opposite ladies chat, they find themselves feasting on each other’s company. The timid Liana surprisingly opens up authentic parts that were locked during her blind dates with sketchy men. Thoko also lets down her guarded tendencies, very much receptive to breaking the quiet girl out of her shell— and yes that means karaoke singing and attending soirées together. 

Accidentally eating edibles upsets a shaky balance.  

While Liana’s silly taste of truth serum aka humiliating side effects gradually wear off, Thoko should have used that momentum to investigate who owned Black Books. Thoko is hurt by Liana’s rejection, robbing her of intuitiveness. Too many coincidences regarding Liana to ignore, especially an outburst speaking volumes. Yet, Thoko thinks nothing of it, instead falling right into Chef Sindi’s spiderweb, turning a slow burning romance into full-fledged soap opera territory. 

Sindi pulls out all stops on her grand schemes, preying on Thoko’s innermost weakness for reinventing her tarnished image. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

Sindi and Thoko share a romantic nighttime boat ride. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

Chef Sindi has a more loving relationship to her phone than Thoko, pulling extreme gestures from a love bomber’s playbook. She milks the social media for all it can offer her, gleefully relaying that her posts with Thoko receives the most views and comments. Thoko allows it in her desperate attempts to get back into society’s good graces, manufacturing a good image to prove she’s no longer a bratty mean-spirited woman. Behind Thoko’s defeated eyes reveals a desire for something more real. 

The charged confrontation scene between Thoko and Liana leaves a bitter aftertaste. Liana shows backbone at last, but she also has a hypocritical hand to play, rejecting Thoko a second time. 

The universe forcing Thoko to read Liana’s novel “Never Look Back…” DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

as Liana finishes up ghostwriting Thoko’s memoir. DP: Tiyane Nyembe. 

Meanwhile, a cried out Liana finishes her assignment and resumes dating men, even returning to the first red flag first date. Liana treads backward despite her words to Zweli on giving up Thoko without really fighting for a chance. It goes back to her awkwardness, her terrifying insecurity. She convinces herself to hide behind heteronormative narrative as opposed to living in queerness, essentially mimicking a fabricated character she creates. 

Thoko and Liana’s kiss— a first for Liana— was a letdown when compared to Thoko and Sindi. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

Among generic misunderstandings and obvious half-truths, the other downside to Umjolo There Is No Cure lies in its buildup to a potentially epic romance as wonderful as Rafiki and Pure. Liana was practically the Black girl response to the poorly aged classic Never Been Kissed, our modern-day twist to Josie Gellar, also a writer/journalist. Instead the film leaves us with two chaste pecks after Sindi and Thoko’s hot and heavy passion burned through the silver screen. Was that to suggest Liana’s virtuousness must remain intact regardless of whom she finally chooses to love? That viewers must use their vivid imagination to wonder how deep Liana and Thoko’s bond grows offscreen? This is not to say that the film owes an explicitly sexually charged moment. It needed to offer a worthwhile end to Liana’s pent up desires, to show a satisfying conclusion to her character arc. There were missed opportunities to close this important chapter with a deeper, meaningful wrap up to Liana and Thoko’s journey. 

Zweli advises Liana to go after what she wants— and be honest about her feelings. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

Buhle— who has gone beyond for her client and friend— has no hard feelings about Thoko’s decisions on her career path. DP: Tiyane Dyembe. 

A pleasant highlight about Mthunzi Dubazana's directional effort based on Thuli Zuma’s screenplay, Umjolo There Is No Cure pays attention to genuine friendship foundation, showing why these specific pairings exist. The counterbalanced friendships lend a constant ongoing salve against the blossoming romantic drama— Zweli and Liana and Buhle and Thoko give the storyline enough humor and integrity to keep it fresh, not as stale as it could have been. Zweli knows Liana inside and out, her pleasure for writing and selling books, making tea to console her, and listening to her sensitive troubles sans negativity. When she has her crash outs, he’s always there in her corner offering diligent care and support, proving that men can be a woman’s companion without the bartering for an indecent incentive. 

Liana, the most dedicated Black woman writer in film. DP: Tiyane Nyembe.

Overall, Liana and Thoko’s radiant cuteness beautifully portrayed by actresses Bisisime Msthali and Londeka Sishi, the amazing soundtrack, the lovable side characters—wise wingman Zweli and humorous wingwoman Buhle, and the hairstyles and costumes (even the extras were stylish) makes for an uncomplicated rewatch. 

Nepotism Versus The Black Librarian Experience in Underground Indie Classic ‘Party Girl’

 

Wanda (cfrancis blackchild) and Howard (L. B. Williams) are on opposing sides to Mary’s emergence into the library sphere. DP: Michael Slovis.

Daisy von Schlerer Meyer’s cult classic Party Girl, a Sundance Film Festival Grand Jury Prize nominee, stars the award-winning Parker Posey as Mary, a social junky who lives for parties and trouble. When her gracious godmother Judy bails Mary out of jail and offers her a job as a library clerk on the spot, the little details regarding hard work and perseverance comes gushing out. Worthwhile traits for any employment opportunities are not important with nepotism involved libraries included. 

Mary (Parker Posey) feels left out as Wanda and Mary (Sasha von Scherler, the film director’s real-life mother) discuss library politics. DP: Michael Slovis.

“I assume you’re familiar with the Dewey Decimal System,” are the first lines Wanda utters— cheeky and perhaps put out over witnessing job fraud. The Black library clerk wears a light blue blouse beneath a buttoned up dark blue cardigan, old-fashioned eyeglasses dangling across her chest, her hair smoothed into a gorgeous Afro puff. She gazes at her new coworker with an understandable sass. After all, Wanda probably had to jump through tireless hoops of sending resumes and snagging interviews in order to get the low tier position. Despite being educated, Wanda’s bottom place at the highly competitive library field relates to the experiences still happening today— taking what little can be offered just to say, “I work at the library.” 

Head librarian Judy already reveals that two previous clerks have quit and that the pay is next to nothing. Mary knows how to throw parties, score drugs, steal designer clothes, and annoy falafel food truck owners, not the exact stuff library work is made of. It’s meant to be funny fiction, the idea that a stylish nocturnal girl can change into a drabby wardrobe and become a bespectacled librarian sensation overnight.

 

Wanda brings out a new stack of Albert Camus’s The Myth of Sisyphus for Mary to catalogue. DP: Michael Slovis. 

Mary’s expression says “no way, this is beneath me.” DP: Michael Slovis.

Within the week, Mary, who again inhabits no unique skills or education necessary for the job, complains about Wanda’s multitasking— she’s doing the Scientific American overhaul, attending the upcoming acquisitions conference, and coding. Mary’s not questioning Judy’s leadership and competence, she’s naming Wanda for a reason. In Mary’s mind, she and Wanda are on equal standing, meaning that Wanda’s higher education at a Missouri college must be pointless. Mary sees a library clerk, the same position that she’s in and feels entitled to taking on Wanda’s duties. Also, she mentions being family repeatedly, hoping that’ll guilt trip Judy even more. Thankfully, Judy shuts Mary’s complaints down, informing her goddaughter that she’s not ready. Let’s take it to the truth by admitting that a curiosity does not extend to the ability to perform essential library functions. Mary would stay out drinking and snorting then stumble through morning introductions at conferences with a brutal hangover where everyone would sound like Charlie Brown mumbles. Put together Wanda would not be a laughingstock staining Judy’s reputation, having staunchly proved through schooling that the library is not a last minute place to mask her identity. 

 

Howard’s interactions with Mary are a stark difference from hers to Wanda. DP: Michael Slovis.

Howard tells Mary to take a break after she loudly cusses out library patrons. DP: Michael Slovis.

Meanwhile, Howard, the other Black librarian who graduated from Columbia University and champions academia, dotes on Mary. Besides Judy, Howard gives Mary chances to prove herself, often smiles and engages in her presence. Maybe ruled by an inner obligation to befriend his boss’s final family member, Howard possesses the welcoming face so as not to potentially lose his position, knowing that favoritism guarantees a quicker climb up the ladder. He makes the foolish decision to allow Mary to lock up the library when her situationship enters near closing hours. His subtle gaze has a conspirator edge, a keen awareness that something would be bound to happen between Mary and the man. By shutting the door behind him, he is allowing it, putting the library at risk due to having a strange, unearned faith in her. 

 

Mary acts cordial with Howard. DP: Michael Slovis.

Howard doesn’t want Wanda to take Mary’s place at the front desk. DP: Michael Slovis.

However, the writing preys into Black men’s perceived historic rage towards Black women, shown in the scene where Wanda gloats to Mary about taking over front desk duties and Howard defensively asks “why?” He emphasizes a simple one-worded question with vehemence in tone and facial expression, leaving no room to believe it’s spoken in cheeky staff humor, no light-hearted teasing. This only scene Howard and Wanda addressing each other exercises the notion that in the white imagination, Black men do not respect Black women, let alone believe in the capabilities of the most educated group of people in America. Not a new concept, but an aggravating one nonetheless as they’re the only Black people working at this particular library, have both earned their MLIS degrees, and hold no solidarity.

Wanda, forever dressed in a blue shade the color of trust, asks Mary why she’s there. She likely already knows about the naughty liaison and the damaged library materials. DP: Michael Slovis. 

After being rightfully fired for having sex in the library and leaving the windows open overnight, causing rain to destroy irreplaceable materials, Mary’s aggressive behavior reaches an alarming degree when she assaults Wanda and nastily calls her the B word. The tension between them had been surmounting on precarious territory with Mary relaying her concerns built by jealousy to Judy. Yet, this ugly moment further depicts Mary in an unfavorable light, putting her hands on Wanda and shoving her up against the wall, cussing her out at the workplace. Mary’s continued unprofessionalism should have been immediate grounds for permanent dismissal, but no witnesses and Wanda somehow harbors no hard feelings. Again, this Mary’s unfunny self-centered antics instead raise an abrasive mirror to an earlier scene where club promoter Rene pushes dancer Venus hard against a nightclub wall. Mary and Rene take their frustrations out on Black women, physically and emotionally, making it difficult to stomach sitting through the detestable treatment Wanda and Venus endure. 

The true inclusivity of womanism exists because the jarring feminism in films like Party Girl suggests that Black women are part of the joke, not in on it. Still, Judy’s passionate monologue highlighting Dewey’s ingrained notions on the women’s role in the library may be the strongest aspect to the film. 

“The job didn’t require any intelligence. It was a woman’s job. That means it’s underpaid, undervalued. This country has more illiteracy than some of the most underdeveloped nations. Even Americans who can read—don’t. They watch movies. They watch television. They watch movies on the television.”

At times, Judy realizes that Mary didn’t deserve a place at the library, that she was accurately portraying Dewey’s misogynistic views of women— completely useless idiots who should sit at a desk and tell people where to find information, no other skillsets beyond giving simple directions. While Judy’s terrific for spelling out Dewey’s sexism, she doesn’t relay the racist messages embedded in his problematic system. 

Furthermore, Wanda seemingly forgiving Mary for harming her and academic Howard not caring that Mary destroyed sacred library property (classic poets and literary greats at that) adds on to them being depicted as docile Black people who prefer coddling Mary over forming a genuine connection with each other. 

Wanda looks frightened by Mary’s erratic behavior. DP: Michael Slovis.

Wanda was played by cfrancis blackchild, a director, intimacy choreographer, applied theatre specialist, teacher, playwright, and actor who like her character attended the University of Missouri. Along with her MFA in playwriting from the University of Texas-Austin, cfrancis holds an MA in English with a concentration in African Diaspora Studies, and a PhD in theatre from the University of Missouri. She is currently a visiting teaching professor of theater at William and Mary College. Party Girl was her sole IMDb film credit. 

Howard was played by late phenomenal actor L. B. Williams, a noted thespian and housing equality activist who put on a memorable turn as Mose Wright in Kevin Wilson Jr.’s Oscar nominated short film My Nephew Emmett. Although Williams passed away nine years ago, IMDb has not updated the information on his page.

Wanda avidly suggesting her alma mater while both she and Mary are wearing the same clothes from that terrible encounter means that Wanda accepts Mary’s behavior sans apology. Howard also sits beside Mary offering his own ideas for her hope to attend library school. DP: Michael Slovis.

Party Girl may have Black librarian representation, but the inauthentic characters are abused punching bags pedestaling Mary on her quest to eventually taking over the establishment. It hasn’t aged well in terms of how it plays into the stereotypes of complacent blackness and the need for white validation. Wanda’s willingness to help a violent, selfish woman threatening her career and Howard’s undeniable loyalty to someone who doesn’t respect library values isn’t believable. Why work twice as hard to be at the library only to kindly grant educational input to your privileged abuser? 

An Artist Searches For Her Love Language In ‘Water In A Broken Glass’

 

Water in a Broken Glass film poster.

“The brush speaks for me even though I am afraid of what it might say.”

Water in a Broken Glass, Jamelle Williams-Thomas’s debut feature-length film based on Odessa Rose’s novel, bravely explores Tonya Simms, a young Black artist suppressing her sexuality just as her career hits a minor snag. Set in Baltimore, Maryland, this coming of age story weaves many precious pieces together that make for an overall resonating romantic drama. 

The film starts on the aftermath of teenage Tonya nursing a black eye from bully Meyoki. Tonya’s best friend Nikki teases her about a realist portrait of Meyoki. Even Aunt Josephine seems bothered by the artwork, telling Tonya that she’s beautiful. Perhaps Aunt Josephine— who keeps eying Tonya with a clairvoyant lens—believes Tonya commemorating Meyoki means something much deeper than surface level aesthetics. Why did Meyoki punch Tonya? Had she found out about the painting? 

Tonya Simms (Billie Krenshawn) creative genius at work. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

Six years later, Tonya has built a solid career, working in her own studio, gaining a prominent commission contract. During a video phone call with Nikki while driving, Tonya accidentally runs into a handsome bicyclist named Malcolm. Certainly no ordinary meet cute. Instead of being grossly offended by Tonya’s negligence, Malcolm appears smitten as does Tonya who fixes her hair before giving him her phone number— for insurance exchange purposes of course. 

Tonya still in shock at hitting a man on a bike. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr. 

Malcolm (Wes Hall), however, doesn’t seem too bothered by the incident— after he sees the culprit. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

The love story between Tonya and Malcolm checks all the right boxes, inciting giddy feelings galore over tech guy Malcolm playing chivalrous gentleman. During their awkward first date at a nighttime gallery / cafe, Tonya shyly puts her hand to her face. Malcolm softly pushes it away, saying “don’t do that. You’re beautiful.” His charm, thoughtfulness, and respect for her as an individual person and a creative showcases a man who understands the importance of having emotional intelligence and empathy, traits usually lacking in most men. On a picnic, he gifts her the best quality paintbrushes even though she doesn’t need them. He asks to show up at her studio to watch her work, making a place for himself in her world not to center his intentions, but to give her extra strength and support, to prove that he wants all of her, the woman and the visual artist. His playful side also shines bright, allowing Tonya to be relaxed and safe. 

Tonya and Malcolm dancing together against this backdrop was both funny and sweet. Believable vibes they sent out, allowing themselves to let loose and be free with each other. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

Tonya and Malcolm vignettes, vulnerable, tender, loving moments, comfort. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr. 

Nikki has given Malcolm Aunt Josephine’s bread pudding recipe (one of Tonya’s favorite desserts) proving chivalry is not dead. Malcolm asking a best friend questions to get to know his girlfriend better is top notch. Also, are they drinking horchata? DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

Tonya and Malcolm embody strong, healthy Black love. They want to learn about each other, adapt to this newfound chemistry. The exchanges between them feel natural. The corny jokes and laughter provides an authentic wholesomeness. Highlight moments include Malcolm opening his toy car collection and Tonya sliding her naked paintbrush along the contours of his slumbering body. 

On the other hand, however, Tonya enters a bookstore that also specializes in art framing, meeting a woman who will alter the course of her life.

Satin Mitchell represents a proprietor rarely seen in media— a smart Black bookshop owner. Among cultural artworks and art supplies, the Black authored curated books alone promote a just reward for underrepresented voices that would usually have a challenging time in the popular book stores, potentially becoming lost, forgotten, and ultimately unread. Among her brilliant selection, Satin houses one of the greatest books ever written— African American Art and Artists written by Dr. Samella Lewis and Ruth Waddy. Her eclectic bookshop centers both the mainstream and the independent, the hard-to-find, out-of-print books meant to be in the hands of prolific urban readers, finding stories and histories where they see themselves fully realized. Satin later divulges to Tonya the hardship in acquiring loans in order to start forming the possible safe space, facing countless rejection, someone having the audacity to say, “your business model is not lucrative” which she suggests, “that is code for Black people don’t read.” 

With all this substantial wealth and scholarship, Satin leads Tonya with her expansive knowledge and wisdom as well as an admitting to be a longtime fan of Tonya’s art. 

Tonya speaks to Satin (Toni Belafonte) who turns out to be a huge fan of Tonya’s work. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

Satin’s bookshop holds an archival treasure trove and Tonya easily could get lost there. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr. 

With Satin, Tonya’s shy behavior increases. Tonya has difficulty concentrating, lulled in by Satin’s intriguing charisma and intellect. Perhaps Tonya longs for the freedom she witnesses in Satin’s demeanor. The attraction frightens her sensibilities as she’s sure to love Malcolm much too deeply to entertain something she doesn’t want to be. Yet, Tonya tries Ethiopian food for the first time where it’s very imperative for hands to enjoy the shared meal. They start spending more time together, the outings seeming more like dates than two sister gals hanging out. Satin glimpses into Tonya’s soul and Tonya’s powerless to resist her. 

Furthermore, Tonya has started painting Satin in rich, full color from memory whereas Tonya has only drawn Malcolm in pencil. 

Tonya’s journey with Satin involves awakening a new part of herself that goes beyond physical desire for another person, it asks that Tonya learn who she truly is. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

Tonya tries on a gorgeous dress and Satin’s more than happy to bestow compliments. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

In the midst of the whirlwind triangle, Tonya’s current commission hangs in the balance. First, she doesn’t look into the owner of her new contract, believing that Dr. Lloyd would be a man. This slight wasn’t a good introductory look. Then again some artists are not keen on research. Yet, Tonya continues throwing out damaging information in her interview, worsening her position on her own art. So accustomed to being led by other people’s ideas, Tonya’s voice becomes lost, discombobulated. Dr. Lloyd recognizes the flaw and threatens to end her allegiance. 

Dr. Lloyd (Carlyncia Peck) was not impressed by Tonya’s portfolio or her shaky responses to certain questions. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

Tonya is left with much to reflect on. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

Simultaneously, Tonya’s relationship with Nikki starts to dangle by a fragile thread. New romantic entanglements can cause friendships to fall by the wayside, a familiar territory analyzed across many shows and films. Couples often forsake family and friends to stay permanently lodged in their connection bubbles. Nikki has to not only compete with Malcolm for Tonya’s time and energy, there’s Satin eating up the remainder. Doubly outcasted Nikki has no choice than watch Tonya’s love life unfold on the sidelines. Furthermore, Nikki’s hurt too by Tonya fighting against the undercurrents of being closeted in. Tonya doesn’t owe Nikki an answer as she needs to process this on her terms, but Tonya has to realize that Nikki loves her unconditionally and so does Aunt Josephine. Whatever happens in Tonya’s heart will not change Nikki’s devout commitment to her best friend. 

Nikki (Candiace Dillard), a doctor, stands by her bestie Tonya despite Tonya frequently bailing out on her. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

Then, comes other dramas. 

Satin comes to Tonya’s art opening with her girlfriend Robin (Lee Avant). 

Satin treats her photographer girlfriend Robin horribly. Satin’s tight lips and severe glances towards Robin at Tonya’s art opening differs completely from the gentle regard she conveys to Tonya. The minute Tonya arrives to Satin’s house, Satin and Robin are fighting outdoors, Robin leaves looking shaken. In this instance, Satin seems to already be pushing Robin away in order to seduce Tonya who has a naïveté about herself. Tonya is so clouded by emotional distraction that the rose colored glasses blinds her.

Award-winning theatre actress Ronea Brown comes in for a short moment as Zona, Malcolm’s ex girlfriend, the love of his life who cheated on him. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

Meanwhile, Malcolm’s ex girlfriend Zona enters his apartment as Tonya and Malcolm are in flagrante. Zona calls Tonya a “downgrade” and Tonya’s ready to fight. Zona’s unexpected appearance must have had Malcolm speechless for him not to defend Tonya’s right to be there raised alarm. 

Coincidentally, Satin owns Tonya’s painting of Meyoki. This sets off a chain reaction when Satin sees that Meyoki (Shani Ashley Francillon) is indeed a real person, not a manufactured enigma from Tonya’s imagination. And Meyoki is very much interested in Tonya too. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

As Tonya lies in the thick of messy triangulations, the film raises valid questions for these multifaceted, intertwining characters. Are things truly over for the couples involved? If one person is finished and the other clearly is not, what then? How can you admit to a potential partner that your previous relationship has loose ends? Still, cheating cannot be the solution. Leaving unhappy situations saves a conscious mind from the plight of negative feedback, of knowing that someone you once loved despises you. Tonya’s heart predicament has the power to cause pain for either Malcolm and Satin. She has to decide who’s hurt can she survive post-decision. 

Aunt Josephine (Victoria Rowell) comforting a torn Tonya. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

It is Aunt Josephine who assures Tonya that whatever choice made is a good foundation to stand behind. Tonya will soon no longer fear the truth of her paintbrush, coming forth with a purpose that turns Dr. Lloyd’s earlier wariness into admiration. 

Bravo.

Janelle Williams-Thomas and Danielle Mooney’s groundbreaking Water in a Broken Glass screenplay sheds light on the complications between societal expectations of love, mainly Black communities across America remain having a frigid acceptance towards LGBTQIA relationships. Thus, Williams-Thomas manages to capture outstanding performances from her leading actresses Billie Krenshawn (Tonya) and Toni Belafonte (Satin) and supporting man Wes Hall (Malcolm) with a tremendous revelation from soap opera favorite Victoria Rowell aka Young and the Restless’s iconic Drusilla Barber Winters. Symora Thomas’s terrific art direction, set decoration, and artwork, Kirby Griffin’s splendid cinematography, Nakiah Aiyana’s chic styling/costume design, and Autumn Meade’s incredibly inspiring hairstyles add extra sleek finesse. 

Tonya’s hair exhibits a refreshing confidence. May have to write a film sister version to the TV/streaming series natural hair icons noted here. DP: Kirby Griffin Jr.

Overall, the profound, nearly two-hour Water in a Broken Glass deserves to be included in dialogue among essential queer cinema. Allow this a seat next to dee rees’s Pariah and Wanuri Kahiu’s Rafiki. It tackles the challenging task of bisexual identity with dignified grace and ties that journey to being an artist— a complex system historically promoting mainly white male gaze (as we see in the film industry as well). Worth repeatedly watching, Water in a Broken Glass proves that there’s no one way to fall in love. 

‘This Tempting Madness’ Torments The Unreliable Heroine With Unusual Degrees Of Pain And Suffering

 

This Tempting Madness film poster.

Based on a jarring true story, This Tempting Madness opens on Mia dramatically falling. The back of her body suspends in a slow moving arc towards a terrifying bottom, her voluminous hot orange dress spreading out its lush folds in flowery fashion, powerless to cushion against the devastating plight. Without warning, her vulnerable front faces the full brunt of impact. She screams “no!” as sounds of her cracking bones strike against surface after surface, sending bloodcurdling chills down the apprehensive watcher’s spine. Was she violently pushed or had she accidentally lost footing and tripped? Is it not any wonder that she manages to miraculously cheat certain death?

However, Mia surviving these cataclysmic bodily injuries isn’t the sole surprise. Her memory exists in startling fragments that cause ruptured behavioral changes— severe mood swings coming from somewhere deep within. Moments contain a kind, sweet wife and attentive mother standing by her husband Jake’s side. Others showcase an ambitious woman reaping the benefits of her privileged upbringing, either callously putting an often anxious Jake on edge or threatening anyone in her vicinity with intended violence.

Mia’s brother Ajay (Suraj Sharma) seems to be her only friend. DP: Andrew Davis.

Mia’s tied to her family, primarily Ajay, her older brother, a constant, loyal presence at her side. Every time she awakens, pained and grinding teeth, Ajay is there assuring her that she’ll be alright. Yet, Mia only prioritizes Jake. Despite having a damaged mind struggling to grasp normality, Mia becomes a full out menace, crying, whining, and screaming about Jake, believing wholeheartedly in an unproven innocence. 

Furthermore, in a world ruled by patriarchal cruelty, Mia’s mental capacities dissolve into a delusional territory where men can do no wrong. Has all such histories been replaced by the overwhelming compulsion to remain at a husband’s side? Does she not realize that their behaviors alter like clockwork more often than not? An irrational, gravely injured Mia appears to be overcompensating for a happily ever after romance as her own flashbacks give hints that she and Jake do not exemplify a love match. Their chilly relationship lacks warmth and affection including a cold Mia pleasuring herself with a scowling Jake watching. Somehow a daughter was created from this arrangement.  

The film blends mystery, thriller, and medical horror, the best parts navigating through Mia’s reset after trauma, the ways that words and sounds trigger reactions that sometimes frighten her family. The young woman has much to process—being in considerable pain and danger, wearing a metal brace to hold up her chin, prone to excess bleeding as her deranged husband blames her for his own failings. Jake seems to reserve a certain hatred for Mia and her family, has likely hated her for quite some time and tries to convince Mia that the incident was her fault.  

  

Although the story begins on a descent, it ends by arousing more questions than generating any real answers. Were we supposed to root for a woman’s revenge on her abusive husband or a broken, depressed man desperate to escape a family obsessed with success? 

 

Mia finally sees her man in jail and tells him straight up that she believes in his innocence. DP: Andrew Davis.

This Tempting Madness had been on the watchlist since last year’s announcement and hot orange dress scene. Unfortunately, the film proved to be even more limited in theater screenings than Me, You, and Tuscany and Is God Is. No nearby major outlets or small art houses played it. The neon color saturations and unique sound design—among the film’s most solid strengths— would have alone enhanced this cinematic experience. The first time viewing on an iPad robbed an allowance of a big screen and surround speakers. Independent films with a raw, stark edge face greater challenges, especially when helmed by new women filmmakers. Sadly, that struggle will continue if they seek directing a second picture, typically another barrier for them to break through. 

With a certified fresh Rotten Tomatoes seventy-seven percent score, This Tempting Madness has its highlights. Director/co-writer Jennifer Montgomery’s feature-length debut spins an unusual narrative whilst unearthing a stellar performance out of her lead actress Simone Ashley. Cinematographer and co-writer Andrew Davis’s skilled camera work includes multiple point of views on Mia’s fall and the spectacular underwater visuals. Rebekka Karijord’s music composition that understands the complications necessary to fit scene moods. Thus, it must be the actor’s dream of having a physically demanding part whilst demonstrating the many emotional facets that Mia expresses throughout— disorientation, frustration, rage, humility, grace, genuine and forced happiness. Ashley’s complexity exhibits a broad range of psychological depths just by sheer body language. Her tenacious ability to showcase the necessary talents to reveal her character’s unreliable narrative proves what we have been saying all along in regards to her bare presence in the last few seasons of Bridgerton, her own starring season two appearance limited her character’s overall arc and voice. Suraj Sharma (star of Ang Lee’s Oscar winning triumph Life of Pi) also has a commendable supporting role as Ajay, a character who sticks so close to his sister and seems to be hiding his own dirt. 

Mia gives Hitchcockian psycho energy as she wields a knife for self-defense. DP: Andrew Davis.

This Tempting Madness is a must see for its calculated build up of eerie atmospheric tension in the realms of Mia’s mind, the pushes and pulls that affect an off balanced psyche. 

“Is God Is’ Effectively Traces The Subtle Passages Of Pattern Male Violence

 

Is God Is film poster. 

Is God Is masterfully unpacks the narrative on societal protection of all male rage degrees and the women whose bloodthirsty desires to break that cycle with their own kind of violence. If the system refuses to give justice to victims, why not take action? 

Racine (Kara Young) and Anaia (Mallori Johnson) are sisters who hold on to each other tightly, delicately. DP: Alexander Dynan.

Ostracized twin daughters Racine and Anaia survive a gruesome fire as little Black girls, living as scarred adults together in a society that would already disrespect and demonize them sans the scars. Passive and quiet Anaia accepts any form of love that comes her way, preferring to a wallflower’s background, hiding her disfigured face in shadows. Volatile Racine’s a fighter through and through, smothering a simmered testiness that boils and boils. Despite varying personalities, these two sisters have a deep, intimate bond, a pulsing heartbeat that echoes scene to scene. Even during disagreements, their undeniable love for each other remains true.  

Racine and Anaia are employed as janitors, the low tiered, bottom feeding pole job operating in the nocturnal hours, cleaning around cubicles when the higher paid staff are away, usually never to see them. 

Jody (Vivica A. Fox) aka “God” asks a favor to ask her daughters. DP: Alexander Dynan.

Racine and Anaia’s mama Jody summons them at a crucial time. The unemployed sisters take a road trip— Racine excited and Anaia reluctant— and arrive in matching old-fashioned floral dresses, a girlish look that seems an opposition of who Racine is at her core and what Anaia wishes to be yet was robbed of. They’re in for a shock at the state of dying Jody, their “dying God.” She is propped up on a bed, face bandaged, brutally burnt flesh buried beneath a simple cover. The in and out pumping ventilator breathes for her, the attending nurses collective “ooo chile” sighs and tapping nails paint this specific Black authenticity as Jody reveals to Racine and Anaia what their devilish father did to them. 

Now Jody’s testimony spins a shockingly familiar story, a smooth, real charmer of a man who knew how to be a romantic sweet talker. Even with a restraining order against him, he manages to enter Jody’s tidy home, play at tender lover before putting his violent hands upon the woman who dares reject the kindness he has worked so hard to manufacture. We hear about this everyday. An ex lover, a husband, a boyfriend, an obsessive in-law, men at bars, gas stations, everywhere killing women for ending things or for saying no. A woman believing a flimsy piece of paper could keep her safe discovers that it cannot. The strangulation in the bathroom, purposefully bringing the girls into the bathtub, lighting that fatal match, walking away and whistling as the girls all scream with their mama— chilling and surreal. A deviant act of trying to annihilate his own family.

“Make your daddy dead,” Jody says as though her favor means getting the sugar she’s forgotten at the grocery store. 

Of course, Racine and Anaia debate over the task, Racine a bit perplexed and Anaia outright disgusted, the “no” in her eyes. Eventually, Racine warms up to the idea. Anaia needs more convincing. 

Divine (Erika Alexander) stands by a man who has long since abandoned her and their child. DP: Alexander Dynan.

The first stop on the revenge road trip is Divine, their father’s religious ex-girlfriend who doesn’t seem to know she’s an ex-girlfriend. Divine has converted her home into a church, a toxic place otherwise known for implementing manipulation tactics such as forced forgiveness and strategic Bible thumping, poisoned trappings that encourages people to stay with their abusers labeling it “God’s will.” Divine speaks in holier than thou sermons, in volcanic rhymes and rhythms that are more laughable than graceful. Divine’s son Ezekiel illustrates all the patterns of a pathetic mama’s boy, standing behind her, groveling and humming at her every word as though he’s a permanent backup singer. 

Racine and Anaia stay throughout these outrageous antics, soon astonished by Divine’s three strikes. First, she admits to supporting their father during Jody’s trial, believed him to be a genuine person capable of love, and still waits on his return— twenty years later! Talk about hard pills to digest in an introductory sitting from a ex stepmother. The church may lead people astray, turn the most burgeoning mind into ignorant mush, and this evidence bleeds into the next generation of spineless souls. False spirituality does not turn off a demented conditioning. Furthermore, did Divine’s brain stunt at the hands of their father? She has the mental capacity of a teenage girl. 

Having had enough, Racine successfully steals their father’s wallet out from the obnoxious time portal altar Divine has conceived of his belongings. The sisters flee, driving off to their next destination as Divine screams at them, hilarious and sad at the same time. 

Chuck (Mykelti Williamson) who originally thought Racine and Anaia were assassins, tries to convince them to stay off the beaten path. DP: Alexander Dynan.

Racine and Anaia next visit Chuck Hall, the lawyer who foolishly represented their father. While a fixated Divine believes that he will return someday, a tongueless Chuck suffers predicts that their father will come back to murder him. Chuck sees what Jody sees— an evil monster. Yes, it was colossally wrong to get paid to destroy Jody’s family life—lawyers represent horrific offenders all the time— and Chuck deals with the consequences in his own way. Instead of obtaining therapy to help medicate his obvious psychological distress, Chuck prefers violence initiated onto him. Perhaps, ever since the father thrusts Chuck’s head upon that steering wheel, it unleashed a sickly desire to feel the taste of blood between his teeth again. Apparently, according to scientific matters, pain and pleasure operates on similar stimuli. 

Still, Racine and Anaia look uncomfortable around this silent man who scrawls messages on a whiteboard. Chuck appeals to their sanity in hopes of saving them, already noting that Racine holds the same maddening expression as her father, a bloodthirsty hunger that would inject fear way before she lays hands on anyone. Out of the male characters in the film, Chuck appears the most regretful, the most sincere in a world of untrustworthy men. Yet, would Chuck be this person if he hadn’t been attacked by his own client? Would he have advised the girls if his tongue stayed intact? 

Racine and Anaia leave Chuck’s with an address, a bit more disturbed on the numbers their father performed on these complicated individuals, leaving behind a thread of red flags. Divine and Chuck stay trapped in differing disillusionment states, not realizing that they’ve already served a purpose like Jody, Racine, and Anaia. 

Racine and Anaia come closer to their destination until a masked motorcyclist destroys the sisters’ car. The motorcyclist chases them around, this very presence promising only violence. The revelation behind the helmet sends a crystal clear message, “blindly shield the male ego by any means necessary” even if it is a problematic figure they’ll never ever meet. 

The many facets of Angie (Janelle Monàe)— wife, mother, survivor, victim blamer, victim. DP: Alexander Dynan.

Angie, the fed up wife, dutifully plans a secret escape from her pristine glass house— the cleverer maneuver to leave behind monstrous humans. The timing could not be any more perfect. Angie’s spoiled twin sons, Scotch, the active aggressor and Riley, the quiet introvert are turning eighteen. Her money has been stacked. A new job and identity wait for her elsewhere. She understands that filing for divorce from such a husband is simply not possible. Yet, her facade has its noticeable cracks. Maybe she played a particular role for the husband not knowing what terrors he had in store. She’s doesn’t exude warm and nurturing vibes to Scotch. Despite an abrasive softness towards Riley, Angie isn’t mournful to him either. She’s not tossing any sentimental glances to her sons, her eyes are not filled with tears. In fact, she’s all hurry and rush, sentencing the whole house and its occupants to guilty. She no longer feels obligated to stay in a nightmare. 

Fresh from the Greyhound bus, however, Racine and Anaia await Angie on the road, halting the plan. Throughout the messy confrontation, Angie makes a mistake in boasting that her calculated scheme is leagues above Jody’s restraining order. Honestly, both women were correct to take precautionary steps. Jody thought the law would keep her and her daughters safe (which they should have) and Angie thinks a fresh restart will be her rescue. Angie keeps pushing the wrong buttons, her high and mighty persona bristling through icy words that fire up Racine’s anticipatory anger. If only she understood the girls terrible upbringing post-fire, if only she related to Jody a bit more… Angie’s privileges shines bright in the faces of poor, scarred girls. Racine and Anaia could have benefitted from the riches, accessing a stronger educational foundation, wielding better jobs, flawless skin, achieving dreams beyond the station that disfigurement pigeonholed them in. Yet, Angie, housing no genuine compassion for their plight, wants what’s best for herself. And the girls do not like that. 

In the middle of the plot’s near final stage, Racine (or Jody) cannot hold an imperative discussion regarding Anaia’s pregnancy reveal— finances, hospital bills, daycare, postpartum health, and other preparations. This unplanned, life-altering event adds more weight to Anaia’s tragic narrative, accepting conditions in an eagerness for love in any form even if it offers another shard to her fragile psyche. She is not thinking about the perplexing notion of single Black motherhood, the underlying conditions beneath the embedded madness within her problematic extended family. Motherhood is not akin to a sweet fairy tale ending on a chaste Disney kiss. We learn the hard, brutal way that most men expect more than a kiss to be happy. Anaia was practically sleeping with her enemy, a lustful man who couldn’t tolerate looking at her face. Boring a child sans a job and a supportive circle only leads to more eventual trauma, not something to be romanticized or celebrated. Black women lead in high fatality rates. Anaia’s baby sticks a poorly constructed band aid on a wound that’ll continue to keep bleeding. 

Riley (Justen Ross) and Scotch (Xavier Mills) believe their father has sent Racine and Anaia (unbeknownst to them their half sisters) to strip for them as an early birthday gift. DP: Alexander Dynan.

Racine and Anaia reach the last stage of the road trip, dedicating themselves to infiltrating the testosterone packed home, doing as their “God” asks. Racine preys on Scotch’s lust while naive Anaia confides in Riley, a boy who seems more like her than the twin who shared a womb. Back to back violent symmetries temporarily pin the sisters against each other, an unfortunate encompass right before their evil father returns. Scotch embodies their father. Riley’s perceived dormant side explodes out of the grief. Again, Anaia fails another test, her trusting personality fast becoming a liability. The battle between Anaia, Racine, and their father completes the God’s desire, the girls’ expressions wildly transforming hit after hit as though possessed by another entity. Were they no different than their brothers, Ezekiel, Scotch, and Riley? Their father?  

The end is of a great burning metaphor, a startling reminder of Racine and Anaia’s whole path to destruction began by their father’s fateful match.  

Overall, Is God Is received great positive reviews including a ninety-seven percent score on Rotten Tomatoes, having potential to be a box office smash or at least a sleeper hit. Original Black women led films helmed by Black women filmmakers rarely receive universal audience support. If there’s no built in expectations due to this sequel/prequel/remake/biopic culture and no huge big name attached, the odds are already stacked against it. The word of mouth backlash spreading from reactionary Black male filmgoers didn’t help either, much preferring to advocate for positive images of themselves, narratives controlled by their favored patriarchal gaze directors. The topic of Black Femicide has become a daily occurrence yet most Black men collectively speak out and/or make profane jokes against murdered Black women who have nonblack partners. They will scream “choose better” as though men won’t put on “nice guy” acts for years and years in order to retrieve certain benefits. 

Is God Is held up a mirror to their faces. That triggered glass reflects their fathers, grandfathers, brothers, uncles, best friends, barbers, and maybe themselves. to see ingrained behavior that a little therapy could have tried healing. Globally, the world puts a mask over such violence, especially if the offender is rich and affluent. People fight under comments on posts defending complete strangers, watch, listen, and read a known abuser’s work and proudly wear their face on t-shirts and buttons— demonstrating how far complacency goes, an easy acceptance of “genius” over individual harm. Divine and Angie clearly believed in the father’s changed behavior, bought into him being worthy of their love, and finding out that the costume falls off. 

The father (Sterling K. Brown) represents the pattern Black male violence that we cannot hide from. DP: Alexander Dynan.

Aleshea Harris wrote and directed the heck out of Is God Is, based on her award-winning play with Moses Sumney crafting a thought-provoking score. The film also contains one of the most engaging ensembles ever cast in a feature-length film. Everyone understood their assigned role perfectly and breathed authentic life into respective characters. Kara Young (double Tony winning actress in Mariama Diallo’s Hair Wolf and a small memorable part in Diallo’s first feature-length film Master) and Mallori Johnson (the best part of short-lived Kindred) lead with raw, extraordinary performances. Vivica A. Fox, Erika Alexander, and Janelle Monaé play incredible stepping stones into the man’s journey towards destruction. Sterling K. Brown is incredibly impressive as a vicious antagonist— the whistling, the smiling, even down to way he walked exhibited terror. Josiah Cross (brilliant in A Thousand and One), Xavier Mills, and Justen Ross performed their parts exceedingly well, echoing exactly the ranges of anger inhabiting young Black men. Mykelki Williamson’s Chuck was another phenomenal highlight, playing a character who had no voice, relying on body language and facial expression skills. 

Anaia and Racine apply each other’s makeup before parading around their own half brothers. DP: Alexander Dynan.

The limited run of the brave, heartbreaking Is God Is was well worth watching twice in the theater, strikingly poignant and deep on both encounters. This remarkable film stitches together intense thriller with a unique love story between sisters, heavy, relatable drama that dissects generational trauma at its crux. The harmful seeds implanted in the male mind continues to be coddled and protected with women always paying the ultimate price for risking their hearts.