Director Jordana Spiro
Actresses Dominique Fishback and Tatum Marilyn Hall prepare for a shoot
Actress Tatum Marilyn Hall
Actress Dominique Fishback
NIGHT COMES
ON
B+
USA (87 mi) 2018 ‘Scope d:
Jordana Spiro
A true indie film, very personal, featuring extraordinary
performances from two newcomers, Dominique Fishback as 18-year old Angel
Lemere, whose bookended voiceover offering poetic thoughts of her mother both
opens and closes the film, and her younger 10-year old sister Abby (Tatum
Marilyn Hall), both victims of a foster care system that devours young black
girls before spitting them out as damaged goods. An excoriating portrait
of growing up in foster care, the film balances clarity of vision with
compassion, getting under the skin of each character, where both unbelievably
come alive onscreen, offering uncommonly penetrating insight into their world,
where according to government statistics (Youth
Involved with the Juvenile Justice System | Youth.gov) girls are the
fastest growing population in the American juvenile detention system, with
minority youth more likely to be detained, where blacks are over-represented,
comprising the highest entry rate in juvenile detention (38%) as well as adult
prisons (58%), though blacks are only 14% of the U.S. population, while looming
in the background is a rearrest rate of 55% for released juveniles.
Brilliantly written by a writing team of the white director, taking a break
from her acting career, and black co-writer Angelica Nwandu, much of it
mirroring Nwandu’s own life story, told with a delicate hand, creating an
astonishing portrait of lives that are set up to fail, with little education
and no work skills, usually ending up on the street living lives of crime,
prostitution, and homelessness, yet those living in the system must persevere,
usually with little or no guidance, left to fend for themselves, primarily off
the radar, leading invisible lives that no one sees or cares about. In
this case, both girls were thrown into the foster care system after their mother
was murdered by their father, where he was sent to jail and ultimately
acquitted, while they languished in a prison-like atmosphere for nearly a
decade, where the criminal justice system failed to prevent Angel from being
sexually abused, then forced her to abandon her sister, punished for crimes
they did not commit. With Angel in and out of 13 foster homes,
never once treated for the obvious trauma of the incidents, both sisters carry
scars and wounds that may never heal, yet to the film’s credit, it is a brazenly
honest depiction of getting out, brilliantly exposing one woman’s inner chaos,
finally having the freedom to make her own decisions, to set things straight,
and find that purpose in life. After a harrowing visit before a judge
that couldn’t care less about her, she’s forced to visit a probation officer
who cares even less, with neither authority figure having the slightest inkling
of understanding of just who they’re dealing with, viewed instead as
interchangeable parts. In this film, we meet the person underneath,
filled with insecurities and signs of desperation, yet forced to exude a façade
of strength and confidence, never allowing anyone or anything to get to you,
stoically handling your business, including disappointments, as if nothing shakes
you, as that’s the only way you’ve managed to survive. As her name
suggests, Fishback, in one of the performances of the year, is an avenging
angel hell-bent on settling matters with her father, but as the film unfolds it
reveals how easily she gets sidetracked.
Set somewhere in Philadelphia, Angel’s first order of
business is recharging her phone, her lifeline to the outside world, which
isn’t as easy as it seems, refused by multiple vendors, followed by a visit to
the local gun dealer (Max Casella), having to provide a sexual favor for the
price of a handgun. Only then does she pay a visit to Abby, a bubbly,
live-wire girl living with a foster family more interested in the income it
brings than the welfare of any of the kids, who are left alone unattended,
basically raising themselves. Even though there’s a special connection
between them, and an especially tender moment when an infant strolls onto the
scene and just clings to them both, Abby senses Angel’s urgency to find their
father, where that above all else is what matters. As Abby has met with
him a few times since his release, that raises Angel’s suspicions, as she
doesn’t want her to have anything to do with him, as he’s the man who killed
their mother. Yet she is on a mission to find him, a single-minded
purpose that drives the film, as it’s behind each and every action that takes
place, all secondary to a revenge that feels inevitable. But this film is
never heavy, or depressing, despite a series of disappointments, as both sisters
are too busy living their lives to dwell on such things, as there are always
matters to attend to, and choices to be made, such as finding a place to
stay. Angel is a girl with an attitude, where she’s not afraid to use her
mouth to intimidate in order to get what she wants, yet despite her fiery
temperament, she’s all mixed up inside, trying to put the pieces together to
form a life that she can recognize as her own. Instead she’s still on
borrowed time, running into an old girlfriend Maya (Cymbal Byrd), thinking she
can stay with her, but that plan is aborted when she’s apparently found another
lover to replace her, turning the situation awkwardly weird, having to save
face, suggesting there’s plenty of “bitches” out there that want her. But
she ends up alone in the entryway of a randomly chosen apartment complex,
sleeping on the floor, rising early before anyone notices her. It feels
like this is not the first time she’s had to resort to these extreme measures,
finding protection from the outside elements, and even a bit of secrecy.
What follows is a trip to the ocean, as Abby indicates their Dad lives near the
beach in Jersey, bartering for the cheapest rate, with Abby finding another
multiracial group of girls her age on the bus, who eagerly invite her along, as
if that’s what they’re used to, with one suggesting her mom could drive them
the rest of the way to the beach. As they all make their way to her safe,
middle class suburban home, filled with the kinds of family comforts they’ve
never had, Angel senses trouble, especially when one of the girls Google’s
their father, trying to get a bead on his address, instead discovering he’s a
murderer, so they make a hasty exit. This dichotomy of the life they
could have had with the one they’re left with couldn’t be more profound,
feeling explosive, like a slap in the face, leaving them both hurt and angry,
as things just never go their way.
A powerful story about women of color in particular, with
sisters that have an instrinsic effect on each other, this film has a searing
realism that catches viewers off guard, connecting us to things large and
small, demonstrating an eye for restraint, while always remaining detailed and
observant. When Abby explains the truth, that their Dad lives nowhere
near the beach, but she just wanted a day they could happily spend together,
just one special day, but that exploded in monumental disarray, suddenly on the
run again, as if they’ve done something wrong. Angel, of course, is
furious to be misled and sent on a wild goose chase, but Abby’s motives
couldn’t be more achingly real, as she just needs a friend. Making their
way to the beach, which is absolutely deserted, they splash in the waves,
playing like kids, actually having a moment of fun. When Angel tries to
tell her she’s not a good influence, that she’s more trouble than it appears,
Abby takes our collective breath away by telling her straight up, “I think
you’re the greatest thing in the world.” The pause that occurs afterwards
is well-deserved, where there are quiet, probing moments, with a terrific score
from Matthew Robert Cooper that underplays the raw emotion on display, further
accentuating the effectiveness of its intimacy. With beautifully composed
cinematography by Hatuey Viveros Lavielle, the healing power of the sea recalls
2016 Top
Ten List #1 Moonlight, as if all sins are washed away, only to resurface
again instantly afterwards in a terrifying moment when Abby finds the gun in
Angel’s purse, knowing she’s going to do something terrible, bringing the wrath
of despair back down upon their openly exposed lives, suddenly carrying the
weight of the world again on their shoulders. In the long bus ride home
in the dark, Angel slips off the bus while Abby is asleep, abandoning her once
again, though everyone in the theater knows why, as it’s the final showdown
with her taciturn father (John Earl Jelks), who invites her in, still living at
their former residence where the incident occurred, yet plainly hasn’t much
food or economic opportunity following his prison stint, barely scraping
by. It’s an exquisitely written scene, blisteringly honest, with few
words, but very telling responses to each other, as they couldn’t be more squeamishly
uncomfortable. Her Dad isn’t the scary monster we’re led to believe,
obviously pummeled down to size from his imprisonment and the humiliating
rejections that follow, stained by his own actions, forever associated with a
horrible crime, where he’s a pathetic sight, wallowing in his own
impotence. Just exactly how she handles the situation is the stuff of
poetry, yet unabashedly real, as she literally reclaims her life in the
process, finding that grace note that has always eluded her, discovering a unique
kind of clarity, as if a storm cloud has been forever removed from continually
pummeling her with a neverending torrent of rain. The finale couldn’t be
more optimistic, where despite all the infractions associated with missed
appointments and various rule violations, they seem insignificant in the
grander scheme of things, as she’s finally free to build a life of her own, no
longer adrift, eradicating all the anger that was holding her back, suddenly
light as air and free as a bird. It’s a brand new day, and one of the
most deeply felt films seen all year.
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