The idea of Rebecca Hall, a white British woman, making her feature directing debut about colourism in 1960s America, just sounds inherently awful. Black cinema doesn’t even tend to reckon with themes of “passing” all that much, for a white director to take it upon herself to attempt to seems like a recipe for disaster. And sure enough, Passing is a movie that should have been in the hands of a director of colour. It can’t help but feel removed from that subject matter, external. For her part though, Hall at least seems humble, managing to keep the film largely in a lane she can comment on. It’s not a Malcolm & Marie situation, she doesn’t adopt any sort of authority and more often uses the central idea of “passing” as a backdrop to explore a relationship.
It helps too that it isn’t coming free-form from Hall’s own head, it’s based on a highly acclaimed but somewhat obscure book written in 1929 by Nella Larsen, based in her own exploration of racial identity. It concerns two old friends from youth who reconnect in adulthood: Irene (Tessa Thompson) and Clare (Ruth Negga), both of whom are light-skinned enough to pass for white, but while the former does it periodically, Clare has more or less assumed it as her racial identity, to the point of being married to a white man (Alexander Skarsgård) –and a particularly racist one at that. The film depicts their relationship as Clare rediscovers the black culture and customs she’s left behind while Irene both admires and worries about the frailty of Clares’ ruse.
I’ve seen a lot of movies lately that have been shot predominantly in black and white as an artistic choice, but Passing is the one that looks the best (though The French Dispatch comes close). Perhaps because colour is such an important idea, particular interest was paid to the lighting and contrast values of this film -Negga especially is lit and framed in a way that emphasizes her light pigment compared to Thompson or any other black figure on screen. Hell, in her first scene shot against a milk-white background, she looks almost like Doris Day! The cinematography in general is quite stark in the black and white hues, resembling those films shot decades ago without colour as an option. And certainly it feels more necessary and emblematic than other black and white movies I’ve seen lately. It really is quite lovely to watch.
The performances of Thompson and Negga (who were both quite involved in the film beyond merely being actresses -another touch of credibility for Hall) enhance the film as well. It’s more about their relationship than I expected, and their feelings about identity attached to race; less about fooling whites -indeed Skarsgård’s John appears sporadically after his early scene introduction. Thompson plays excellently the part of a relatively introverted woman curious about the idea of passing, cautious and slightly envious of what it means in the 1920s. Though morally confident, there’s a subtle insecurity she conveys and that shows through the more Clare becomes involved in the life of her family. It’s in this that the movie makes the connection between complexion and desirability, as Clare grows specifically close with Irene’s husband Brian (André Holland) and it leads Irene into thinking they’re having an affair. It’s a suspicion in part born out of the idea that even in black communities, lighter skinned women are more attractive, closer to that white supremacist beauty standard imposed by society. The film isn’t very subtle about this commentary, Irene’s children start to grow attached to Clare in a way they aren’t to their mother and Irene’s feelings of inferiority are aptly translated.
There is also of course a lack of confidence and envy towards Clare’s free-spiritedness. She’s a bit of a bohemian, appropriate to her time, and without a family yet a degree of mobility in her relationship with her husband, she has a lot of freedom that Irene doesn’t. But there’s something solemn there too, a consciousness of repression that itself is repressed. Though we don’t have as much access to Clare’s point of view, I think Negga delivers the slightly more captivating performance, constantly required to be putting on an act. She shows how on some level Clare is aware of her privilege, and ashamed of it; how much she needs a friendship like the one with Irene and her family, and that sense of blackness that she can’t express otherwise. I think I just would have liked to have seen more from her perspective, especially with regards to her relationship and everyday risks of her ‘passing’ lifestyle.
The film acknowledges the realities of racism in that time, this being the era of the Great Migration to places like Harlem. Brian relates to the children graphic stories of lynchings in the south, which Irene is visibly uncomfortable with. Though they are far from that environment, all throughout and in their everyday lives there is this atmosphere of danger hanging over these characters, and over Clare especially. Which is why it can be frustrating that she is sidelined for a stretch. There’s also not a lot of open conversation on the racial themes, which may derive from a lack of confidence on Hall’s part. She instead hones in on the character drama. And Passing works fine as a character drama, but feels shallow in some respects, particularly concerning the suspected infidelity plot thread. The film is grappling with very complex and nuanced ideas that Thompson and Negga are more than prepared to handle, and that are far more interesting then the beats of the plot that go more pronounced. The ending also rings a bit strange. There’s a strong build-up, substantial tension, but then when it happens, it’s sudden, and not as dramatic as it needs to be. It’s a quickened resolution, blunt and without much interrogation –and maybe it’s a feature of Larsen’s book. But I don’t think it translated well.
Passing is probably not as good as it could have been, but it’s also a lot better than it could have been. And Hall shows great promise behind the camera as an actors’ director, knowing how best to supplement her performers. Indeed, Thompson and Negga are a big reason the film works, along with that pretty cinematography. It perhaps deserves credit for addressing a subject still considered somewhat taboo, even if it distracts itself periodically from that subject due it to being arguably in the wrong hands. At least it understands that the conversation isn’t black and white.
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