The
original plan had been to see this movie opening weekend back at the start of
November. It seemed fitting to go to the
theater to watch a true story about a landmark Supreme Court battle against
anti-miscegenation laws on the same weekend that a blockbuster comic-book movie
featuring a major whitewashed character came out. All well and good… except Loving wasn’t in my local theater, or
even any semi-close non-local theater, on opening weekend. I didn’t see the other film, but I couldn’t see Loving until recently, when it finally came to town.
In 1958,
Richard and Mildred Loving marry in Washington, D.C. before returning to their
hometown in rural Virginia. According to
the laws of Virginia, however, a white man and a Black woman aren’t simply
banned from getting married within
state lines; they’re banned from being
married as well. The couple are arrested
and forced out of the state, away from their families and the only homes
they’ve known. In a years-long battle
merely to live and love where they choose, the Lovings become somewhat
reluctant faces of interracial marriage as their case makes it all the way to
the Supreme Court.
What
really interests me in this movie is how little it feels like a traditional
civil rights film. Richard and Mildred
go against the law in order to marry, but in doing so, they don’t think of
themselves as willfully challenging
the law. They don’t view themselves as
fighters or crusaders. They simply love
each other and want to do so as husband and wife, not setting out to topple any
system. When Mildred’s family ask why
they went up to D.C. to get married, she just comments that Richard thought
it’d be “easier” there, and when the ACLU approaches them with eyes on the
Supreme Court, Richard asks if they can’t just explain to the judge that they
“won’t bother anybody.” While they
ultimately realize they don’t want to accept being told where they can or can’t
live, and they come to understand that the fight isn’t just for them but for
every family like theirs, all they really want is that very fundamental, basic
thing: to be together. It serves as a good reminder when we look at
different social justice issues that are debated today. When a trans person wishes to use the
bathroom that corresponds with their gender identity, for example, they’re not
doing it to “be political.” They’re not
“making a statement” or “shoving their beliefs” down anyone’s throat. They just want themselves, and others, to
live their lives with the same dignity afforded to everyone else.
Keeping
the central focus so tight and personal makes for an often-quiet, gentle
film. The biggest moments come in small
scenes, like how proudly Richard hangs his and Mildred’s marriage license on
their bedroom wall or the shy reticence in Mildred’s voice when she first takes
a call from the ACLU. Joel Edgerton and Oscar-nominated
Ruth Negga play their roles softly and compassionately. Their chemistry together is so warm, and
their understated reactions to the injustices they’re facing somehow highlights
those injustices even more starkly.
Michael Shannon also appears in the film, turning in a good performance
in his brief role as a photographer sympathetic to the cause.
Warnings
Thematic
elements and threats of violence.
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