Category: Movies

Animated sequel explores teenage anxieties

Joy (Amy Poehler, in green dress) and her fellow emotions encounter Anxiety (Maya Hawke), who suddenly appears when their host, Riley, becomes a teenager. (Photos courtesy of Disney/Pixar)

By Richard Ades

When we first met Riley in 2015’s Inside Out, she was a homesick 11-year-old whose family had just moved from Minnesota to San Francisco. True to its title, the Disney/Pixar pic mostly took place inside her head, where “Joy,” “Sadness” and other characters representing primary emotions struggled to help her deal with the seismic change.

It was an animated tour de force that brought psychological concepts such as personality, memory and sense of self to life with the help of endearing characters, imaginative landscapes and daredevil adventures.

Now we have Inside Out 2, which catches up with our hockey-playing heroine (voiced by Kensington Tallman) as a 13-year-old who seems to have settled into her new life. Once again, Joy (Amy Poehler), Sadness (Phyllis Smith) and their fellow emotions work tirelessly to keep Riley on an even keel.

All seems well until they come across a part of the growing girl’s psyche that they haven’t seen before: puberty. (Yes, the flick goes there.) Before they know it, they’re being evicted from the emotional “control room” and replaced by teen-appropriate newcomers such as Envy (Ayo Edebiri), Embarrassment (Paul Walter Hauser), Ennui (Adele Exarchopoulos) and their panic-prone leader, Anxiety (Maya Hawke).

Meanwhile, in the outside world, Riley is dealing with a series of disasters, starting with the realization that her changing body is suddenly in need of deodorant. What’s worse, she learns that her two best friends will be assigned to a different school next year.  

The upshot is that what originally seemed like good news—the hockey coach at her future high school invites her to take part in a “skills camp”—becomes a source of endless stress. Stuck in a “disgusting” body and soon to be separated from her BFFs, she pins all her happiness on making a good impression on the ice.

Joy (Amy Poehler, left) tries to make friends with Anxiety (Maya Hawke).

It’s obvious she’s headed for a meltdown, but Joy and the rest of her exiled emotional support group can only watch helplessly while Anxiety and the other newcomers fuel the girl’s misgivings.

Directed by Kelsey Mann from a funny, heartfelt and clever script by Dave Holstein and Meg LeFauve, Inside Out 2 is brilliant at depicting the fears and doubts swirling around the mind of a typical teenage girl. If there’s any disappointment at all, it’s that the Riley’s relationship with her friends hits a variation of a snag that we’ve seen countless times before.

On the other hand, we’ve never seen it depicted with such glorious visuals. In true Pixar fashion, the animation is beautiful, if sometimes a bit overwhelming. The same can be said for the sound design, especially if you see the film, as I did, in an IMAX theater.

Aided by an invested cast, it all leads to an engrossing and rewarding story that should appeal to teens and pre-teens, as well as anyone who remembers what it was like to go through that difficult time of life when everything was changing.

Rating: 4 stars (out of 5)

Inside Out 2 (rated PG) opens June 14 at theaters nationwide.

Historic tale recounts pope’s abduction of Jewish boy

Edgardo (Enea Sala, left) receives a Catholic education after being abducted from his Jewish family in 1858. (Photos courtesy of Cohen Media Group)

By Richard Ades

Kidnapped: The Abduction of Edgardo Mortara relates the true story of a young Jewish boy who was taken from his parents so he could be converted to Christianity.

It’s a disturbing tale, but you may also find it a bit confusing unless you know something about Italian history. It also helps if you have a little patience.

Veteran director Marco Bellocchio takes his time unfolding the account of 6-year-old Edgardo Mortara, who is seized from his Bologna home in 1858 after Catholic officials learn he’d been secretly baptized as a baby. According to law, as the local “inquisitor” explains to the parents, he therefore must be raised as a Christian.

The boy’s father and mother, Salomone and Marianna (Fausto Russo Alesi and Barbara Ronchi), are shocked, as they know nothing about the baptism. They beg the official not to take their son, but their pleas only win them a 24-hour reprieve. After that, Edgardo (Enea Sala) is whisked away to Rome and enrolled in a school along with other boys who are training to become Catholic.

A distraught Marianna Mortara is allowed to visit her son (Enea Sala) months after he was abducted by Catholic officials.

In the months and years that follow, Salomone and Marianna do everything they can to reverse the church’s decision, including appealing their case to the press. But their efforts are stymied by Pope Pius IX (Paolo Pierobon), who takes a personal interest in the boy and refuses to give him up even after the abduction arouses international condemnation.

Director/co-scripter Bellocchio and most of his cast treat the tragic events with solemn restraint. Maybe a little too much restraint, as much of the film is weighed down by its own seriousness. There are effective scenes here and there, but the only actor who routinely shakes things up is Pierobon as the blustery and bullying Pius IX.

Another problem is that the script assumes the audience understands the complicated political atmosphere in which Edgardo’s ordeal is unfolding. In a much-simplified nutshell: Pius IX was in office at a time when Italians were rebelling against the pope’s power, which included controlling Rome and other parts of the country that were known as the Papal States. It all came to a head in 1871, when Italian troops captured Rome from the pope’s forces and unified Italy under one banner.  

Pope Pius IX (Paolo Pierobon) refuses to give up Edgardo (Enea Sala) even though the boy’s abduction has been greeted with international condemnation.

Unfortunately for those who aren’t knowledgeable about that history, Bellocchio skims over most of this in order to keep the focus on Edgardo, who by this time has grown into a young adult (played by Leonardo Maltese). It’s an understandable decision, but one that will leave many viewers confused about what’s really going on.

Kidnapped is about an act of official antisemitism that had an effect far beyond one Jewish individual and his family. As such, it has intrinsic interest, but the film would have had more impact if Bellocchio had imbued it with a bit more history and a bit less restraint.

Rating: 3 stars (out of 5)

Kidnapped: The Abduction of Edgardo Mortara opened May 24 in New York and Los Angeles and expands to additional cities beginning May 31. It will open in Columbus June 7 at the Gateway Film Center.

Holocaust escapee finds a home in pornography

Chelly Wilson does business out of her apartment in an old snapshot provided by the Wilson family. (Photos courtesy of Kory Miller/Obscured Pictures)

By Richard Ades

There have been many documentaries about Holocaust survivors. Queen of the Deuce is likely the only one about a survivor who went on to make her fortune in the porn industry.

Born into a family of Greek Jews in 1908, Chelly Wilson was quicker than most to recognize the rising threat Nazi Germany posed in the late 1930s. Temporarily leaving her son with her ex-husband and her daughter with a non-Jewish acquaintance, she hastily emigrated to New York, where she was soon making money selling hot dogs.

But Wilson’s real success came years later, when she began acquiring neighborhood movie theaters and devoting them to the increasingly popular genre of pornography. By the time soft porn began giving way to the hard variety, she was honchoing a business that ran a slew of theaters and even made its own features.

Directed and co-written by Valerie Kontakos, Queen of the Deuce tells Wilson’s story through interviews with her grown children and grandchildren, as well as people who worked with her over the years. Though she died in 1994, Wilson even makes an appearance herself thanks to home movies and interviews recorded by her family. In addition, an animated version of Wilson at various ages makes brief appearances to help us understand who she was and how she got that way.

An animated version of Chelly Wilson poses with some of her regular poker buddies in an image provided by Exile Films.

It all adds up to a portrait of an individual whose life was full of contradictions. For example:

⸱ She was a Jew who celebrated Christmas (which was also her birthday).

⸱ She was a lesbian but was married twice, including to a man she met in America.

⸱ She was a mother and grandmother who valued her family but sometimes kept them in the dark about her past.

A final contradiction is that, while many would label her a feminist thanks to her fierce independence, she made her living off a film genre that feminists of her era often considered misogynous.

In general, Wilson comes across as someone who proudly and unapologetically lived her life and was unafraid to thumb her nose at social norms. Director Kontakos does a good job of capturing her personality with major help from collaborators such as editor Rob Ruzic, composer Ken Myhr and lead animator Abhilasha Dewan.

As a bonus, Kontakos also captures the personality of New York in the 1960s and ’70s, before politicians such as Rudy Giuliani began working to reform its sex-, dirt- and crime-ridden image. Back then, the Big Apple might not have been as nice a place to visit as today’s cleaned-up version, but it obviously was the perfect home for a risk-taking entrepreneur named Chelly Wilson.

Rating: 4 stars (out of 5)

Queen of the Deuce previously made the rounds of several festivals, including the 2023 Columbus Jewish Film Festival. The film opens May 24 in select theaters and online through Amazon Prime Video and Apple TV.

He photographed folks the mainstream media ignored

Wearing a mask during the COVID pandemic, Corky Lee gets ready to take his next photo. (Photos courtesy of All Is Well Pictures)

By Richard Ades

As a child, Corky Lee enjoyed comic books about superheroes, which he later credited with giving him a “moral compass.” As a Chinese American, however, he never saw any superheroes who looked like him.

Despite this fact (or maybe because of it), Lee grew up to be a kind of superhero himself—one whose “superpower” was simply taking the kind of pictures no one else was taking. Walking around New York City with a camera bag over his shoulder, he spent five decades chronicling the lives of Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders, people whose struggles and celebrations were often ignored by the mainstream media.

Lee and his lifelong crusade of inclusion are the subject of Photographic Justice: The Corky Lee Story, a documentary being shown on PBS in observance of Asian American and Pacific Islander Month.

Directed by Jennifer Takaki and featuring a combination of contemporary interviews and vintage footage, the film is a low-key but loving portrait of the man who became a fixture in New York’s Asian community. Whenever members of its many varied cultures and nationalities threw a parade, held a party or joined a picket line, Lee could be counted on to be there.

Love of country and love of New York are obvious in this photo Corky Lee took of a 2006 parade celebrating Budha’s birthday.

After decades of such coverage, the documentary tells us, Lee amassed so much knowledge about local AAPI-related events that kids jokingly referred to him as “Corkypedia.”

Besides showing up for Asian holidays such as the lunar new year and Budha’s birthday, Lee also covered national holidays, when he concentrated on providing an Asian American viewpoint. On Veterans Day, for example, he focused his lens on AAPI vets to show that Asians are as much a part of U.S. society as their European American counterparts.

According to the documentary, Lee felt this lesson became especially important when the country was hit with the 9/11 attacks in 2001 and with COVID in 2020. Muslim Americans and Chinese Americans, respectively, were scapegoated for these national and international tragedies, and he did what he could to counteract the resulting prejudice.

Sadly, the latter effort turned out to be his last. After viewing Takaki’s documentary, you’ll realize just how much of a loss that was.

Rating: 4 stars (out of 5)

Photographic Justice: The Corky Lee Story can be seen in select theaters and will air on PBS stations beginning May 13. Its Central Ohio airtime is 4 p.m. Sunday, May 19 on WOSU.

Abused Iranian seeks refuge Down Under

The title character (Zar Amir Ebrahimi, left) and her daughter, Mona (Selena Zahednia), in Shayda

By Richard Ades

Shayda is the story of an Iranian woman who flees a bad marriage by hiding out in a shelter for abused women.

The title character is played by Zar Amir Ebrahimi, who expressively conveys Shayda’s fears as she faces cultural and legal forces that limit her options despite the fact that she and her husband are temporarily living in Australia. Perhaps her greatest fear is that even if she wins a divorce, she could end up losing custody of her daughter.

The story is inspired by the real-life experiences of writer-director Noora Niasari, whose mother went through a similar ordeal. That explains why Shayda’s fears ring true, including her paranoia that husband Hossein will somehow discover the shelter’s secret location.

That also might explain why the character who affects us the most is Shayda’s daughter, Mona, who basically represents Niasari herself. But it certainly helps that Mona is played by a talented young actor named Selena Zahednia, whose face and voice register every emotion the girl is experiencing.

When Shayda and Mona first arrive at the shelter, the daughter is peevish and complains about missing the foods and relatives they’ve left behind in Iran. She even seems to miss her father, though she’s witnessed at least some of his brutish behavior toward her mother.

Then Hossein wins a court order granting him unsupervised visitations with his daughter, and Mona begins undergoing a subtle transformation. At first won over by her dad’s hugs and gifts, she becomes increasingly alarmed by his questions about Shayda’s comings and goings. And she feels uneasy when he asks her to keep confidences from her mother.   

As Hossein, Osamah Sami gives an unnerving portrayal of a man whose fatherly feelings may be subservient to his anger toward his wife and his patriarchal sense of entitlement.  

It’s easy to conclude that Hossein is shaped by his Muslim beliefs and that the movie is an attack on the culture that spawned them. But the flick’s main target is actually wider, as the shelter where Shayda finds refuge also houses women of other nationalities, including the UK. In other words, abuse of women is depicted as a universal problem.

Speaking of universality, the film’s main weakness is that it defines Shayda as an abused wife and devoted mother, but it fails to fill in the details that would help us understand her as an individual.

What is her background? Why is she in Australia? What are her career goals? The answers to such questions are eventually given (or at least hinted at), but in the meantime she simply comes across as a scared woman who’s desperate to change her life.

It’s one more reason why Mona stands out as the film’s most relatable character.

Rating: 3½ stars (out of 5)

Shayda (PG-13) opens April 5 at select theaters.

Stranded alcoholic goes to war with beavers

A hidden Jean Kayak (Ryland Brickson Cole Tews, foreground) watches the industrious title characters at work in Hundreds of Beavers. (Photos courtesy of hundredsofbeavers.com)

By Richard Ades

What do you get when you take a drunk applejack salesman and strand him in a wintry wilderness filled with beavers?

If the beavers were real, you’d get a very strange nature documentary. But since they’re actually people dressed in animal costumes, you instead get Hundreds of Beavers, a comedy so bizarre that it’s probably on its way to achieving cult status.

Shot in black and white and with title cards rather than spoken dialogue, Beavers borrows some of its look and feel from the silent era. More often, though, it comes off as a (mostly) live-action version of early 20th-century cartoons, which sometimes had plots and visuals so surreal that you had to wonder just what the animaters were drinking and/or smoking.

You might end up wondering the same about director Mike Cheslik and his star, Ryland Brickson Cole Tews, who collaborated with him on the script. But however they got their inspiration, they brought it to life with skill, imagination and a taste for macabre humor.

Angry beavers battle Jean Kayak, who’s wearing a hat made from one of their deceased comrades.  

Tews plays Jean Kayak, who runs the Acme Applejack farm and seems determined to drink up the profits. Then a fiery explosion turns the farm into cinders and apparently leaves Kayak in a deep slumber. When he awakens months or years later, he finds himself alone in a world covered in deep snow.

At first, Kayak spends all of his time trying to stave off hunger by hunting giant rabbits (played, of course, by people in rabbit costumes). His efforts grow more and more elaborate, but like Wile E. Coyote in the old Road Runner cartoons, he always comes up empty. (The comparison is inescapable, as Kayak’s Acme Applejack farm is no doubt an homage to the Acme Co. from which Wile E. purchased his bird-trapping supplies.)

Things finally begin turning around for Kayak after he meets several new people, including a fur trader (Wes Tank) and a merchant (Doug Mancheski). The former helps him learn the trapping skills he needs to gain an advantage over the animals he’s been hunting, while the latter motivates him by offering rewards for their carcasses.

The biggest reward is the hand of the merchant’s furrier daughter (Olivia Graves) in marriage, but the price is steep: namely, “hundreds of beavers.”

The furrier (Olivia Graves) goes to work on a beaver carcass.

Director Cheslik turns the resulting battle royale between Kayak and the beavers into an inventive and sometimes comically gruesome treat with help from collaborators such as cinematographer Quinn Hester, composer Chris Ryan and special effects coordinator Brandon Kirkham.

Most viewers will be happy to accept all the clever mayhem at face value, but those looking for a deeper meaning may find it thanks to a final character: an Indian fur trader (Luis Rico) who befriends Kayak and sometimes helps him out.

The presence of a Native American, along with an early scene that’s reminiscent of the first Thanksgiving, may serve to remind us that Europeans’ “discovery” of the New World had a profound effect on its environment. Could it be that Kayak is meant to represent the early hunters and trappers who decimated animal populations to line their own pockets?

But if there is such a message, don’t worry. The flick never takes itself seriously enough to turn into an ecological lecture. Cheslik and his cohorts are having way too much fun for that.  

Rating: 4 stars (out of 5)

Hundreds of Beavers can be seen in select theaters (including Central Ohio’s Drexel Theatre beginning April 5). It will be available online beginning April 15 via Prime Video and Apple TV, and beginning April 19 as an SVOD exclusive on Fandor.

Song writer puts faith in hard-drinking has-been

By Richard Ades

The Neon Highway begins by giving its protagonist a glimpse of the success he craves.  

Wayne Collins (Rob Mayes) and his kid brother, Lloyd (T.J. Power), perform a country tune in a Nashville bar and are an immediate hit. Afterward, two industry execs offer Wayne a contract, but they add that they have no use for his guitar-picking sibling.

What’s a brother to do? Wayne is so eager to launch a music career that he appears ready to throw Lloyd under the bus. Then, while driving home, he almost literally does just that thanks to a highway accident.  

The tragedy seems to leave all thoughts of a music career in the rear-view mirror, as we next find Wayne working as a phone/internet installer in Georgia some seven years later. But then, as luck would have it, he’s sent to fix a line for a man who turns out to be one-time country icon Claude Allen (Beau Bridges).

Wayne shows Claude one of his original tunes, and in no time the two are driving to Nashville—where, the older man insists, they’ll be welcomed with open arms. In reality, the city proves to be far less hospitable.

By convincingly playing a washed-up country singer with an alcohol problem, Bridges is following in the footsteps of brother Jeff, who portrayed a similar character in 2009’s Crazy Heart. If we don’t root for him as much as we did for Jeff’s hopeful has-been, it’s partly because Claude is simply not very likable.

As depicted by Bridges, and as directed and co-written by William Wages, Claude is arrogant and obnoxious toward everyone around him, even those who love him. He’s also blatantly self-serving, to the extent that Wayne wonders whether the ex-idol can be trusted to look out for his best interests or is simply using him to stage a comeback.

All this could have made for some powerful drama and an interesting character study. As time goes on, Claude persuades Wayne to put a lot on the line, including his job and a good deal of cash, yet Wayne refuses to give up on him. Is he motivated by guilt over what happened long ago between him and his brother?

That would seem to be the situation the flick’s prologue set up, but the script never capitalizes on its potential. In fact, it doesn’t even make it clear whether Wayne is driven by his love of music or simply by his family’s financial challenges, including a broken dryer and a son in need of college tuition.

Mayes’s Wayne is as likable as Bridges’s Claude is unlikable, and both display authentic country singing voices. But their efforts are undercut by a script that drowns any potential drama in bland dialogue and superfluous characters.

Ultimately, the flick, like the people it portrays, is a study in lost opportunities.

Rating: 2 stars (out of 5)

The Neon Highway (PG-13) opens March 15 in select theaters.

Young migrants’ journey turns into nightmare

Seydou (Seydou Sarr, center) and other migrants crowd into a boat that they hope will take them to Italy. (Photos courtesy of Cohen Media Group)

By Richard Ades

In this presidential election year, it’s easy to forget that migrants are not merely a campaign issue. They’re also desperate people who sometimes take unimaginable risks in their search for a better life.

One such person is at the center of Io Capitano (“I Captain”), the Italian nominee for this year’s International Feature Film Oscar. Directed and co-written by Matteo Garrone (2008’s Gomorrah), it’s the story of Seydou (Seydou Sarr), a 16-year-old Senegalese musician who believes he can become a superstar if only he and his cousin Moussa can find their way to Italy.   

The youths’ optimism is challenged when a local elder warns them the trip will be risky, and that even if they get to Europe, they’ll find it’s far from a paradise. His words nearly scare Seydou into abandoning the journey, but then Moussa (Moustapha Fall) reminds him of the fame that hopefully awaits them in Europe.   

“White people will be asking for your autograph,” the cousin predicts.

So, after seeking guidance from a neighborhood mystic, they set off, only to learn that the elder’s warnings were all too accurate. Soon they’re dealing with bribe-seeking officials, unreliable guides, desert heat and much worse in a journey that begins to resemble Dante’s descent into hell.

African migrants are forced to cross the Sahara Desert on foot in a scene from Io Capitano.

Worst of all, they’re eventually separated, leaving Seydou to continue on his own. Will the teen, who had to be coaxed into taking the trip, be up to the task? Will he even have the chance to go on, or has his luck run out?  

Garrone’s film begins as a warmhearted celebration of Senegalese culture before evolving into a terrifying depiction of the hazards that await would-be migrants such as Seydou and Moussa. Whether any of them succeeds, it seems, depends on a mixture of strength, grit and just plain luck.

Leading a uniformly good cast, Sarr turns the kind-hearted Seydou into a likable, root-worthy protagonist. Behind the scenes, cinematographer Paolo Carnera supplies images that are striking whether they depict a Senegalese dance or a forced march through the Sahara Desert.

Io Capitano goes a bit overboard toward the end by allowing its drama to escalate into hectic melodrama. Otherwise, it’s a moving depiction of a search for a better life that morphs into a fight for survival.

Rating: 4 stars (out of 5)

Io Capitano opens in select cities Feb. 23 and expands to other theaters in the following weeks, including Columbus’s Gateway Film Center on March 1.

Democracy comes to Bhutan. Hilarity ensues.

An elderly Buddhist lama (Kelsang Choejey, who is a lama in real life) has a mysterious need for a firearm in The Monk and the Gun. (Photos courtesy of Roadside Attractions)

By Richard Ades

It was less than 20 years ago that the Himalayan country of Bhutan modernized and transformed itself from a kingdom into a democracy. The resulting repercussions are at the center of a warmly funny and slyly satirical film called The Monk and the Gun.

Written and directed by Pawo Choyning Dorji (2019’s Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom), the film introduces us to seemingly unrelated characters whose paths ultimately converge in a momentous and meaningful way.

There’s Tshering (Pema Zangmo Sherpa), an official charged with preparing remote villagers for the “mock election” that’s meant to serve as democracy’s dry run. There’s Choephel (Choeying Jatsho), who’s earned the wrath of his mother-in-law and neighbors by backing an unpopular candidate.

There’s also Benji (Tandin Sonam), a city dweller who hopes to make some quick cash by serving as a guide for a treasure-seeking American improbably named Ronald Coleman (Harry Einhorn).

Finally, giving the flick its name, there’s Tashi (Tandin Wangchuk), a Buddhist monk who’s ordered by his “lama” to find two guns by the time the full moon arrives in four days. Why, asks Tashi, who’s never even seen a gun. “To make things right,” the lama (Kelsang Choejey) replies cryptically.

Tashi (Tandin Wangchuk, right) barters over the ownership of a vintage rifle with American gun collector Ronald Coleman (Harry Einhorn, left) and his guide, Benji (Tandin Sonam).  

Because guns are a rarity in Bhutan, and because the treasure the American seeks is a rare Civil War rifle that somehow made its way into a local man’s home, it’s inevitable that Coleman and Tashi end up looking for the same weapon. That sets up a dilemma that eventually sends Coleman and his guide off on a risky and illegal mission, but not until it’s exposed the visitor to one of the many cultural shocks he encounters.

After finding the prized gun and offering to buy it for a small fortune, Coleman learns from his guide that the owner is reluctant to sell because he considers the amount too high. “Wait, what?” the American says, astounded that anyone would choose scruples over a life-changing infusion of money.

Meanwhile, elections official Tshering encounters cultural shocks of another kind as she tries to sell democracy to the local villagers. As Buddhists who’ve always devoted themselves to living in harmony, they can’t understand why they’re suddenly being asked to divide themselves into mutually hostile political factions.

Many of the flick’s satirical jabs are aimed at the U.S.: at our materialism, at the ever-growing viciousness of our political process, and especially at our love affair with guns. But Dorji also aims much of the humor at his own countrymen, especially those who think adopting Western-style ways will automatically guarantee them a better life.  

Driven by Dorji’s clever script, Jigme Tenzing’s serene choreography and convincing performances by the mostly amateur cast, The Monk and the Gun is a delight from beginning to its surprisingly uplifting ending.

Rating: 5 stars (out of 5)

The Monk and the Gun opens Feb. 9 in theaters nationwide, including Columbus’s Gateway Film Center.

She forged a new way to look at racism

Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor stars as author Isabel Wilkerson in Origin. (Photos by Atsushi Nishijima/courtesy of Neon)

By Richard Ades

Isabel Wilkerson’s 2020 book Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents was praised for its incisive comparison between racial repression in the U.S. and repressive systems in other countries. In particular, it looked at India’s caste system and Nazi Germany’s genocidal antisemitism.

Now writer-director Ava DuVernay has transformed that best-selling book into a semibiographical movie called Origin, which explains the challenges Wilkerson faced as she was formulating her provocative ideas. Besides facing pushback from African Americans and others who questioned her thesis, we learn, she lost several beloved members of her family.

DuVernay, who wrote the script with Wilkerson herself, apparently hopes these personal tragedies will inject enough drama into the film to prevent it from coming off as a mere lecture.

Wilkerson (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, right) is comforted by her husband, Brett (Jon Bernthal).

First, the bad news: It still comes off largely as a lecture despite solid acting by Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor (as Wilkerson) and the rest of the cast. But the good news is that the lecture imparts enough details about Wilkerson’s revolutionary thesis to be worthwhile. Those who haven’t read the book will find it enlightening, while those who have read it may see it as a useful recap.

In a nutshell, Wilkerson contends that our country’s history of repression toward Blacks—from slavery and racist laws to the recent murders of innocent African Americans such as Trayvon Martin—has much in common with other societies’ attempts to devalue certain groups and depict their members as less than human.

In India, that group is the Dalits (formerly known as the Untouchables), who often are denied educational opportunities and relegated to the most menial of jobs. In Nazi Germany, of course, that group was the Jews.

Throughout the film, historical incidents are recreated to give the victims and perpetrators of repression a human face. Among others, we meet a Black couple and a White couple who worked undercover to understand racism in the Jim Crow South. We also meet a Gentile man and a Jewish woman who fell in love in Germany during the rise of Naziism.

Nazis hold a public book burning in a scene from Origin.

Dramatically, perhaps the most effective of these recreations involves a young Black baseball player who wasn’t allowed to swim when his White teammates dropped by the local pool. Historically, the most shocking scene (for those unfamiliar with Wilkerson’s book) shows Nazi officials patterning Germany’s antisemitic laws after American laws that relegated Blacks to second-class citizenship.

In the more contemporary scenes involving Ellis-Taylor’s Wilkerson, the other major cast members include Jon Bernthal as her husband, Brett; Emily Yancy as her mother, Ruby; and Niecy Nash as her cousin, Marion.   

DuVernay’s 2014 film Selma was a fascinating look at Martin Luther King and the pivotal role he played in the Civil Rights movement. The director’s new film may not be as dramatically effective, but it is every bit as illuminating.

Rating: 3 stars (out of 5)

Origin (PG-13) can be seen in theaters nationwide.