2020 sucked. That was true of pop culture just as it was true of everything else. We might well have seen the end of movie theaters as we know it. And yet, it was the death of a single man that resounded loudest. Chadwick Boseman, star of Black Panther, passed away of colon cancer in August. He was just 43 years old. And, in the end, he had just a single completed film yet to release: Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom.
Adapted from a play by August Wilson (Fences), Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom follows Levee (Boseman), a trumpet player in the band of legendary “Mother of the Blues” Ma Rainey (Viola Davis). Levee has ambition. He wants to be have his own band, play his own music. But Ma Rainey doesn’t give a shit about his ambitions. She’s one of the most famous musicians in the nation right now. Ma Rainey wants to make a record, get paid, and get back on tour. Chicago is hotter than hell and tempers are running high as the group tries to hold it together long enough to cut a record of “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom.”
“All they want is my voice.”
Let’s get this out of the way: Chadwick Boseman is phenomenal. The role is like nothing else I’ve seen him do, and he absolutely destroys every scene he’s in. Boseman’s Levee has a swagger he can’t control and a rage he doesn’t want to. So many of Boseman’s roles have been… well, righteous. Controlled. Levee, though, is a firework with the wick cut to a nub. What’s fascinating, though, is how good the screenplay — and Boseman — are at making you sympathize with him. He’s a braggart and an asshole, but he has suffered — and from that, built a profound talent. And no one cares. People want to use his gifts, but he hasn’t learned how to make people respect those.
Ma has, though. And perhaps be cause of that, Viola Davis is even better, giving a career-best performance. She doesn’t have to go as big as Boseman, because Ma Rainey is absolutely in control of every scene she’s in. This is a play about privilege. Ma Rainey knows that, for the brief time when the record label needs her to make a record that will make themselves rich, she has it. She can leverage it to help her family. For a brief moment, she isn’t a Black woman in a White man’s world. She runs the world, and she is absolutely going to milk it. Davis’ performance is steely and a little wild. There is a thin line between unshakeable delusion and earned confidence, and Davis rides that line throughout.
Even the supporting cast crushes it. Colman Domingo’s Cutler could be boring as a cool professional navigating a room of hot heads, but he has a laid back ability to give and take his punches that makes him the most likeable character in the show. Glynn Turman stands out as well. Toledo is given to philosophizing, an old man with a touch of respectability politics that absolutely grates against Levee. Turman’s Toledo is both the most judgmental character and still an old pro who knows how to roll with his punches. Toledo and Cutler are vital to keeping the balance between Ma Rainey’s icy leadership and Levee’s inferno of ambition.
“I’m gonna get me a band and make me some records!”
Adapting a play can be… fraught. The two mediums, film and stageplay, seem so similar on their face. But they just aren’t. There’s a distance we have to the stage, both physically and emotionally, that fundamentally changes how ‘real’ it feels. Plays also aren’t edited, so they use quicker back-and-forths punctuated by long monologues, in a way that feels off on-screen. And, of course, the physical distance to the stage means they have to pitch the emotions much broader than film does. In film, we can see every flickering emotion on an actor’s face. That’s impossible on stage, which means big scenes have to be… well, really fucking big.
There’s one particular scene that is just too stage-bound. In it, Boseman gets his first big monologue. It’s a dramatic scene, in which Levee details his tragic backstory. It’s a beautifully written scene. Well, it feels like a beautifully written scene. Boseman performs it perfectly. But you can feel the stage. Director George C. Wolfe does very little to make the scene more cinematic, or more naturalistic. Except, well… then Toledo launches into a monologue of his own. Except, there’s no one around. Who is he talking to? Is there anyone around? Is it meant to be an aside? I couldn’t tell. That’s a problem for me.
In general, Wolfe is really conservative with how he handles the film. Wilson is an icon for a reason, and it is clear how much Wolfe respects him. But the best adaptations, to me, respect the themes behind the material without worshiping the material itself. And Wolfe clearly wants to film the play, rather than adapting the play for film. It’s not necessarily bad, but it is noticeable. Though the ending, an addition to the play wholly its own, is a phenomenal cap to the story, and a great way to add to the themes of the story.
“That’s to get the people’s attention.”
As with 2016’s Fences, another Wilson adaptation, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom thrills in its performances — and maybe falters a little bit as a film. But, again like Fences, it is worth watching for those performances. I know I’ve already talked about Boseman and Davis, but it is genuinely hard not to launch into their praises again. The performances are just so sharp, so in tune with Wilson’s writing, so vivid. It’s genuinely difficult not to rave about them. Even if Boseman hadn’t died, this would be a groundbreaking performance for him. And somehow Davis is better.
It’s genuinely mesmerizing when they are in their groove. But there is more to the movie than the two of them, more than all the performances, and that’s not quite as strong. The play packs a punch, but I can only imagine how much harder it might have hit for me with a bit more massaging. Then again, your mileage may vary. If you don’t mind that the movie feels a bit stagebound at times, then Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom will hit you like a freight train. It’s a powerful play, with profound, enormous emotions and a core struggle that feels elemental. And as much as I might wish that the direction were more ambitious, I am incredibly happy to have these strong, memorable performances burned into my brain.
Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is available now on Netflix. Written by Ruben Santiago-Hudson and directed by George C. Wolfe, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom stars Chadwick Boseman and Viola Davis.