Man, I am so happy that Netflix has gotten into the filmed-adaptations-of-plays-and-musicals game. Despite being very different in story, theme, performance, and execution, this movie is up there with The Boys in the Band as a wonderful adaptation of a play, at once both theatrical and cinematic.
One sweltering Chicago day, the legendary Ma Rainey graces a recording studio with her presence to record an album. Between Ma’s grandstanding demands, her nervous manager trying to keep the peace between her and her producer, and the in-fighting in her band spurred on by the ambitious, big-talking trumpeter Levee, it’s touch and go as to whether they’ll record an album at all. Everyone’s personal stakes are set against the backdrop of race relations in America in the 1920s.
Adapted from the play by August Wilson, this is a film that’s never far from its theatrical roots. Actors monologue like there’s no tomorrow, the closed-in setting of the recording studio is by turns claustrophobic and expansive, and there’s space given to highlight major symbols within the story. Also, you don’t typically see characters sitting around shooting the shit in a screenplay – that’s a definite theatrical convention, a means of taking a breather in the action that “show, don’t tell” screenplays don’t often take the time for. You’re never going to forget that this movie came from a play. That said, it does ultimately feel like a movie as well. The action gets juxtaposed in cinematic ways by cutting between Ma in the studio and the band down in the practice room, and I really like the stylistic choices made to keep some of the monologues feeling visually interesting.
I’ve never seen or read the play, and I’ll admit to not being very familiar with Ma Rainey beyond her name, but I found the story very engrossing. I love the way the themes are teased out slowly. This is an utterly character-driven piece, and it’s through them that we get our window into what the film is trying to say. Ma and Levee are as combative with one another as they are with everyone else, but despite that and the major difference in their respective circumstances, they’re very similar characters. Ma does the diva thing because she knows that the white men making her album don’t like or respect her, but they need her and her voice to sell records, so she makes them grovel to get it. Meanwhile, Levee has just as much sense of his own worth and tries to demand it, but because he doesn’t have Ma’s clout, he’s not able to throw his weight around in the same way. When he can’t get the respect he craves, it infuriates him and he takes it out on the only people he perceives as being lower on the totem pole than he is.
Naturally, this emphasis on character puts the performances front and center. Viola Davis is variously brash, steely, ornery, and raw as the imperious Ma. I love the way she carries herself, knowing precisely who she is and not about to let anyone forget it. Chadwick Boseman is stunning in his posthumous role as Levee, a man who is determined to be seen as such and rages against a world that won’t take him seriously. (Side note: the first thing that jumped out to me in the movie’s trailer was how thin Boseman looks. That said, his performance is ferocious and never lets on how he must have been suffering.) The rest of Ma Rainey’s band is played, to excellent effect, by Colman Domingo, Michael Potts, and Glynn Turman.
Warnings
Strong thematic elements (including racism,) sexual content, violence (including descriptions of hate crimes,) language (including the N-word,) and drinking/smoking.
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