That Grown Black Love in ‘Cherish The Day’ Season Two

 

Cherish the Day promo poster. 

While the first Cherish the Day anthology focused on Gently James and Evan Fisher’s five-year relationship span, the second season focuses on a few months of a couple’s blossoming reunion. The moment former high school sweethearts locked eyes in a New Orleans hardware store, sparks flew between vegetarian chef Sunday St. James and plumber Ellis Moran. It was the first time they had seen each other in some twenty odd years. Apparently, Ellis messed up a good thing. 

Long ago, Ellis cheated on Sunday. Many years later, Ellis’s wife Anastasia cheated on him with Danny, her tour manager. Karma ate Ellis hard, but he’s ready to make amends. He’s an older, much matured man no longer wanting to play little boy games. Ellis and Sunday are both too grown. 

With that, time has to be intentional. 

Ellis must prove himself worthy of Sunday’s heart.

Joy Bryant (who should be in a million features) glows as vegan chef Sunday St. James. DP: Michael Dallatorre.

The divine (and criminally underused) Henry Simmons is a solid choice for independent plumber Ellis Moran. DP: Michael Dallatorre.

Although on the brink of divorcing Anastasia (played by the amazing Terri J. Vaughan) and raising two young daughters Everly and Bree, tall, brown, and handsome Ellis makes it real clear that there is room aplenty for Sunday, a gorgeous, statuesque beauty sporting sleek box braids and tailored chef jackets. Ellis stares at Sunday as though trapped in a hot desert and only she has the power to replenish his thirst. Even without physical touching, their alluring chemistry melts the screen— all in the twinkling eyes and luminous smiles. He believes they can start off as friends again. Yet, with chemistry that fire, a camaraderie would be difficult to sustain. There is so much history in the way their body language conveys longing and desire, especially after an intimate dance at the club. 

And history always repeats. 

Ellis watches his woman depart the airport, entranced. DP: Michael Dallatorre.

Sunday glides to her man in slow motion, captivated. DP: Michael Dallatorre.

Sunday does have a full plate. She’s a big deal chef, coming up with incredible recipes and managing the busiest vegan spot in Atlanta. In addition to that, her father, former judge Mandeville St. James constantly forgets minor to major things and has violent outbursts that may be hinting dementia or Alzheimer’s. This puts stress on Sunday who balances between two cities, focusing on her restaurant, tending to her father’s care, and maintaining a healthy, reignited romance with Ellis. Plus Sunday can impress sweet Bree, but stubborn Everly isn’t too receptive with her father’s girlfriend.

Brown skin love is becoming a rarity onscreen these days so it’s a blessing to see an honest depiction with Sunday and Ellis. DP: Michael Dallatorre.

Yet, Sunday and Ellis authentically come together, as lovers, as friends, as partners. Their scenes exhibit warm tenderness, pure joy, and all-consuming passion— often more smoldering than any contemporary romance novel in the bookstores and libraries. They exude timeless romance and sex appeal. Frequently, whether Sunday stepped out in a gorgeous number or Ellis entered a room dressed to impress, they rarely wandered to anyone else. That’s the epitome of grown up commitment— a sophisticated looking pair who do struggle to put themselves first. Anastasia and Hosea (Sunday’s ex special friend) may interfere for different reasons. At the end of the day, Ellis and Sunday want only each other. Their best moments include lunch on the grass, introductions to each other’s family and friends, cooking together, and shooting hoops outside ala Gina Prince-Blythewood’s Criterion Collection hit Love & Basketball.

The most important part, however, is that Ellis is supportive of Sunday, not forcing her to sacrifice her restauranteur dreams and be the makeshift mother to his daughters. 

Sunday and Ellis at Anastasia and Danny’s wedding. DP: Michael Dallatorre.

Their multifaceted, soul-stirring love story was better than the movies— the lighting, the acting, the music, all excellent. DP: Michael Dallatorre.

The up and downs of their relationship are understandable too. Anastasia needed lessons in boundaries, Everly seemed more angry at Sunday than Anastasia who cheated on her father, and Sunday’s obvious shame of Ellis’s profession made a number on his pride. Let’s face it— a woman on the brink of triumphant success is not going to be proudly boasting that her man is a plumber. People are conditioned to think that means toilets are his main priority as opposed to not considering that includes pipes, sinks, and etc. He’s adept at reconstruction, turning homes into goldmines. The ending superbly highlights his underrated handyman strengths, something that would have even impressed Overton Wakefield Jones. 

When Everly extended an olive branch to Sunday at Danny and Anastasia’s wedding, it showed a new, profound step in their relationship, that Everly could be open and vulnerable to a woman who shares several commonalities with her. Their conversation explores the heartbreak most girls and women go through and the strength in numbers philosophy in order to overcome it. Everly becomes what Sunday was at her age, crying over a boy. Sunday doesn’t spill the fact that Ellis did the same, instead consoling her future stepdaughter with delicacy and grace, promising her that she would not mirror Anastasia or Ellis’s behaviors. 

Yet, the painful cycle of cheating closes on Sunday and Ellis who ultimately decide to forgive the past and look forward to their life together. 

Mrs. Luma Lee Langston (Cicely Tyson) at top, DP: Eduardo Enrique Mayen and former Judge Mandeville James (Richard Roundtree) on the bottom, DP: Michael Dallatorre. Rest in power to both of these great heavyweights.

Cherish the Day performs double duty activism, utilizing an all-female directing crew as in Queen Sugar including Angel Kristi Williams (Really Love) and Tchaiko Omawale (Solace). Casting classic, nostalgic actors gives them flowers, that though in prime they still have good work to accomplish for new audiences. The first season featured the late Oscar honored Cicely Tyson in fine form as the sassy Mrs. Luma Lee Langston. In the second season, Shaft’s Richard Roundtree plays former judge Mandeville, a widowed father to Sunday who happens to be suffering from the ailments of old age. If there happens to be more anthologies, might we suggest Margaret Avery, Garrett Morris, Jo Marie Payton, Charlayne Woodard, Carl Lumbly, or Danny Glover. 

Furthermore, Michael Dallatorre’s cinematography aligns with the thoughtful music selection, another key example hailing off Queen Sugar’s independent vibes. Sade’s brilliant song sets the theme as each episode focuses on a single day. 

Illustration by Jasper Yu.

Illustration by Jasper Yu.

Overall, Sunday and Ellis’s incredible coupledom wouldn’t be complete without the charisma Joy Bryant and Henry Simmons brought to the table. They were beautiful and authentic, just believably present in a Black contemporary love story sans the typical struggle. 

So, Cherish the Day season two comes highly recommended and well worth the two dollars per episode. 

‘Solace’ Courageously Examines A Quiet Black Girl’s Eating Disorder

Solace film poster.

Tchaiko Omawale’s candid feature-length debut Solace strikes home hard. It focuses on Sole, a seventeen-year-old Black girl, who uses food and art as a coping mechanism after her father’s death. Instead of staying in New York City with a teacher who truly cares about her well-being, Sole is sent to live with her judgmental maternal grandmother Irene in Los Angeles. 

Sole (Hope Olaide Wilson) in her new bedroom in Los Angeles. 

Solace resonates with a personal history that still carries through my daily life. Sole reminds me of many weekends spent in my bedroom not eating in hopes of maintaining an extremely underweight frame. This mindset was a mixture of admiring the frail girls on the WB network and the hope to not have the same body types as my maternal side of the family. Still, I binged on snacks primarily candy like a high junky craving munchies whilst dreaming of flattened breasts and flattened stomach. Several scenes have Sole’s fingers blindly reaching inside snack bags and robotically stuffing chips, crackers, etc. into her mouth, eating and eating out of pain, out of boredom no matter the hour. Despite this constant snacking, Sole is obsessed with her figure and the figure of her thinner neighbor, Jasmine. 

Sole has trouble seeing eye to eye with Irene (Lynn Whitfield). 

Irene wants Sole to go out more— especially with the local church girls— although Irene herself is not the typical Christian values woman. 

As Sole often scrummages the cabinets for midnight cravings, the rough tension escalates between her and Irene. A headstrong, determined Sole anxiously yearns to return home and false church lady Irene desperately wants to build a relationship with her granddaughter. Sole sees right through Irene’s phoniness right down to the strange relationship between Irene and her special friend, Pastor Clay. It also doesn’t help that Irene makes negative comments on Sole’s eerie eating habits and labels her “fat.” 

Guedado (Luke Rampersad) and Jasmine (Chelsea Tavares) are two broken spirits that draw Sole into their world of drugs, alcohol, clubbing culture, and kissing experimentation. 

Jasmine falls asleep in Sole’s arms. 

Positioned between Sole’s story is an abstracted nude Black woman wrapped in clear plastic, trying to break free from the barrier. This avant-garde break may metaphorically imply the mental trappings that overwhelm the physical self so much that it interferes in the way of daily existence. This body cries out in despair, in agony. Most importantly, she is fighting to escape alone. 

“If you’re silent about your pain, they will say you enjoyed it,” Zora Neale Hurston said in How It Feels To Be Colored Me, a quote that highlighted my personal struggles, that extends towards Sole’s quiet pain. 

Meanwhile, Sole prefers becoming intimately close with her neighbors Jasmine and Guedado instead of Irene’s church friends’ daughters (which includes Martha played by Pariah’s Sahra Melllesse aka Alike’s accepting younger sister, Sharonda). Sole needs their help for winning an art project that would fund her return to New York. Eventually, however, the trio are an inseparable triangle with a curious Sole attracted to both Jasmine and Guedado— both affecting her in different ways. Yet between the jarring opposite magnets pulling the lost, vulnerable Sole in deeper and deeper, her eating disorder overwhelms any possible high or munchy craving. 

At the same time, the chain smoking Irene—pissed at her granddaughter for choosing the eccentric neighbors over her own family— is getting in good with her friend Pastor Davis. The film does not stray away from the notion of older people having sex, lingering on every curve of hypocritical Irene’s body and every indented line of Clay’s. Whilst in the throes of passion, Irene giggles, hoping Sole doesn’t hear them. 

The trio successfully shoot in front of Pastor Clay’s church— that is until he comes down and threatens to call the cops. 

Winner of the Best Ensemble Cast Award at the Los Angeles Film Festival and Narrative Feature Audience Award at the New Orleans Film Festival, Solace deserves more praise and attention for responding to the quiet underbelly of Black girls suffering from constant body criticism. Ours is much different than that of others. 

When Sole reaches a startling breaking point, Irene is there to pick up the shattered pieces. 

Solace made me feel seen and understood. This powerful film addressed an inner battle to make a resolution to my past body issues. Black girls and women much like Sole have to be encouraged to break through this glaring cycle of hatred, of not valuing what is before us. Although societal standards still vouch for European ideals, Omawale’s important film instructs Black women to embrace the distinctive shape of their bodies, to accept their appearances in all its facets. Haven’t we been punished enough already in this world? 

Furthermore, Solace is an experimental expression that not only discusses the Black female body, it blends together grief in a coming of age narrative, sexuality/sexual politics, and art form.