When Mudbound premiered at the Sundance Film Festival back in January, it was something of a sensation. Dee Rees' long-awaited follow-up to indie breakout Pariah was hailed as one of the best of the fest, and it was instantly recognized as a potential Oscar contender. But when the complex, ambitious drama was picked up by Netflix, much of that awards hype dissipated. The streaming giant is great at funding bold, original new projects, but they have yet to figure out how to get into the Oscar race. The Academy has gone through a number of changes in recent years, but there's no denying that the base of the group is still very old, and they're not exactly a fan of the way that Netflix has shaken up the business. So if Beasts of No Nation, one of the best war dramas of the last several years, couldn't get any nominations, why would Mudbound be the movie to change things? As the race progressed over the last several months, the haunting epic remained a periphery player, one of the biggest question marks in a race filled with them.
Images courtesy of Netflix
But after seeing the film, I have to say that I'm really hoping that the Academy overlooks their Netflix bias for this one. While Rees's sophomore outing is certainly challenging and unruly, it is one of the more intensely effective films I've seen all year. From the complex, fascinating narrative, to the outstanding ensemble, to the gorgeous imagery, Mudbound is a brilliant piece of cinematic art that deserves recognition and praise. This is a film that is practically overflowing with ideas, bursting at the seams with emotion and empathy. It's filled with anger, sadness, and ultimately, hope, a cocktail of contrasting feelings that creates an uncompromising meditation on America's racial past and present. It's a story that is simply too big for all of the pieces to fit into place, and the rich narrative web would present a challenge for even the most experienced of filmmakers. But Rees succeeds with grace and skill, creating an effortlessly engaging film that leaves a bruising mark. Mudbound comes achingly close to perfection, but its stark impact nonetheless makes it an unforgettable viewing experience.
Set in the Georgia Delta over the span of nearly a decade, Mudbound is a sweeping chronicle of American history, taking you from the tail end of the Great Depression to the aftermath of World War II. At the heart of the story, there are two struggling families, one black and one white, whose fates will become interlinked as racial tensions hit a boiling point. The McAllans were hoping for a nice suburban life, but ended up becoming farmers after Henry McAllan (Jason Clarke) was swindled on a deal for a house. This is a disappointment for Laura (Carey Mulligan), who hoped to avoid the perilous drudgery of farm life. Despite Henry's casual and consistent discrimination and the overt racism of Pappy McAllan (Jonathan Banks), Laura comes to rely on the Jackson family, particularly the matriarchal Florence (Mary J. Blige). The Jacksons are sharecroppers, and they live a quiet life that is often disrupted by the struggles (often just general incompetence) of the McAllan family.
But the two families have one more thing in common- both of their sons were sent off to fight in the war. The smooth-talking, dashingly charismatic Jamie McAllan (Garrett Hedlund) became a fighter pilot, while the profoundly kind Ronsel Jackson fought in tank warfare. Both men came back with a set of experiences that fundamentally changed them- Jamie drinks the pain away, while Ronsel is righteously angry about coming back to a country that still treats him as a lesser citizen. Jamie and Ronsel strike up an unlikely friendship, smoking and drinking and reminiscing on their time in Europe. But as word gets out to the McAllan family, their bond becomes a divisive one, leading to an outburst of hateful violence that serves as a tragic reminder of just how far there is to go.
In terms of size and scope, Mudbound is a wildly expansive project. The events of the plot take place over the course of more than a decade, and the sheer number of players in the ensemble presents a difficult task. In a way, it's a film of two very distinct halves- the first half chronicles the struggles of the McAllans and the Jacksons as they confront the realities of 1940s farm life, while the second half is all about the relationship between Jamie and Ronsel. Mudbound's most glaring error comes in the way that the two halves fail to completely mesh together, as many of the plot threads from the first half fail to carry over to the finale. It's easy to see thematic connections between the two stories, as you see the varied familial responses to Jamie and Ronsel's friendship. However, certain characters (Mary J. Blige's Florence, Jason Clarke's Henry) get lost in the shuffle, and the film fails to give much closure to their personal narratives.
Nonetheless, Mudbound maintains a steady sense of momentum throughout, mainly thanks to Dee Rees' confident direction and her remarkable, insightful script (co-written by TV veteran Virgil Williams). While the story reaches its peak as it nears the violent climax, Mudbound manages to make each and every plot development engaging and compelling. There's an assured sense of pacing to the entire affair, with Rees blending a quiet lyrical quality and a mainstream narrative sensibility in a way that keeps things running smoothly. Rachel Morrison's gorgeous cinematography works in perfect coordination with the harsh, minimalist vibe, but if the imagery often feels ambiguous and
haunting, Rees's storytelling is remarkably sharp and clear at every turn. Voiceover is used to brilliant effect, and never once does the film slip into a lull. It is intense and gripping from start to finish.
As mentioned before, Mudbound has a tricky awards season ahead of it. Netflix is still struggling to find its footing in the Oscar race, and with so much to see, this smaller streaming release might get lost in the shuffle. But if nothing else, Mudbound deserves recognition for its ensemble cast, which is nothing short of stellar. It's hard to pick out one or two performances in a cast that fits together so nicely, but I don't think it's a stretch to say that the core of the movie lies with Garrett Hedlund and Jason Mitchell. Hedlund has certainly been typecast over the years as the stoic, mysterious type, so it's nice to see him really explore a character's heart and soul in depth. When we first meet Jamie, he's smooth and charming, the kind of Southern gentleman who seems just a little untrustworthy. After the war, Jamie is battered and broken, revealing a unique mixture of kindness and anger. That same combination is found in Ronsel, played brilliantly by Mitchell. Ronsel is soft-spoken and genuine, but also rightfully furious about his place in post-war America, and the way that Mitchell captures that emotional push and pull is glorious. The two actors have great chemistry, and they share some of the best scenes of the film.
But the rest of the cast is just as good, starting with the buzzworthy turn by Mary J. Blige. The women of Mudbound are complex and nuanced, and I found Blige's performance to be strikingly memorable, depicting a rift between her duty to her family and her almost motherly protection of Laura and her children. I also wish there was more of Carey Mulligan in the film- Laura is established early on as the core of the story, but she's one of the characters who suffers the most from the fundamental focal shift to Ronsel and Jamie. Laura seems helpless and borderline incompetent at times, but there's a fierce independent spirit to her, a sense of liberation that comes full circle in the final act. It's not hard to understand her sexual frustration when you consider the fact that she's married to Henry McAllan, who is played to uneasy perfection by Jason Clarke. He achieves a balance between this everyman quality and a quiet but obvious kind of cruelty, one that is both inconsiderate and overtly racist at the same time. Henry is overshadowed by his monstrous father (played by a horrifying Jonathan Banks), but he emerges as the film's more understated antagonist. And finally, there's the tremendous Rob Morgan, playing a father trying to keep his head down in a time where the temptation to act is constant. Pick out any of these actors, and you have a valid contender in the supporting races.
Rees's film may seem to be exploring familiar themes of racial conflict and oppression, but it does so in a way that is still overwhelming in its raw power. Mudbound is rich with ideas, exploring this subject matter from an angle that we haven't really seen before. By blending post-war PTSD, the early sparks of the Civil Rights Movement, and the horrors of the Depression into one epic journey, Rees is allowing you to understand this story from a variety of perspectives. The result is both heartbreaking and hopeful, empathetic and tragic. The final act of Mudbound is as blunt and effective as anything I've seen in 2017- you know that this story won't end well, but the way that Rees executes this genuinely disturbing sequence is truly gut-wrenching and shocking. It's a horrifying depiction of America's past, but its tale of destroyed friendship, prejudice, and trauma feels sadly current. The power of Mudbound is its ability to subvert expectations, to draw you in with characters that feel real before reminding you of the ugliness that lurks beneath.
Mudbound runs into a few little bumps in the road, but by the time the jaw-dropping finale rolls around, I doubt you'll care. Dee Rees took on an intense project with her second feature film, and the results are magnificent. Mudbound is harsh but marvelous, an epic swirl of ideas and emotions that is both illuminating and profoundly sad. Led by one of the year's best ensembles, sharp filmmaking from Rees, and the beautiful images captured by Rachel Morrison, Mudbound is simultaneously moving, deeply affecting, and consistently surprising. Even on the small screen, this is one of the most powerful films I've seen all year.
THE FINAL GRADE: A- (8.7/10)
Set in the Georgia Delta over the span of nearly a decade, Mudbound is a sweeping chronicle of American history, taking you from the tail end of the Great Depression to the aftermath of World War II. At the heart of the story, there are two struggling families, one black and one white, whose fates will become interlinked as racial tensions hit a boiling point. The McAllans were hoping for a nice suburban life, but ended up becoming farmers after Henry McAllan (Jason Clarke) was swindled on a deal for a house. This is a disappointment for Laura (Carey Mulligan), who hoped to avoid the perilous drudgery of farm life. Despite Henry's casual and consistent discrimination and the overt racism of Pappy McAllan (Jonathan Banks), Laura comes to rely on the Jackson family, particularly the matriarchal Florence (Mary J. Blige). The Jacksons are sharecroppers, and they live a quiet life that is often disrupted by the struggles (often just general incompetence) of the McAllan family.
But the two families have one more thing in common- both of their sons were sent off to fight in the war. The smooth-talking, dashingly charismatic Jamie McAllan (Garrett Hedlund) became a fighter pilot, while the profoundly kind Ronsel Jackson fought in tank warfare. Both men came back with a set of experiences that fundamentally changed them- Jamie drinks the pain away, while Ronsel is righteously angry about coming back to a country that still treats him as a lesser citizen. Jamie and Ronsel strike up an unlikely friendship, smoking and drinking and reminiscing on their time in Europe. But as word gets out to the McAllan family, their bond becomes a divisive one, leading to an outburst of hateful violence that serves as a tragic reminder of just how far there is to go.
In terms of size and scope, Mudbound is a wildly expansive project. The events of the plot take place over the course of more than a decade, and the sheer number of players in the ensemble presents a difficult task. In a way, it's a film of two very distinct halves- the first half chronicles the struggles of the McAllans and the Jacksons as they confront the realities of 1940s farm life, while the second half is all about the relationship between Jamie and Ronsel. Mudbound's most glaring error comes in the way that the two halves fail to completely mesh together, as many of the plot threads from the first half fail to carry over to the finale. It's easy to see thematic connections between the two stories, as you see the varied familial responses to Jamie and Ronsel's friendship. However, certain characters (Mary J. Blige's Florence, Jason Clarke's Henry) get lost in the shuffle, and the film fails to give much closure to their personal narratives.
Nonetheless, Mudbound maintains a steady sense of momentum throughout, mainly thanks to Dee Rees' confident direction and her remarkable, insightful script (co-written by TV veteran Virgil Williams). While the story reaches its peak as it nears the violent climax, Mudbound manages to make each and every plot development engaging and compelling. There's an assured sense of pacing to the entire affair, with Rees blending a quiet lyrical quality and a mainstream narrative sensibility in a way that keeps things running smoothly. Rachel Morrison's gorgeous cinematography works in perfect coordination with the harsh, minimalist vibe, but if the imagery often feels ambiguous and
haunting, Rees's storytelling is remarkably sharp and clear at every turn. Voiceover is used to brilliant effect, and never once does the film slip into a lull. It is intense and gripping from start to finish.
As mentioned before, Mudbound has a tricky awards season ahead of it. Netflix is still struggling to find its footing in the Oscar race, and with so much to see, this smaller streaming release might get lost in the shuffle. But if nothing else, Mudbound deserves recognition for its ensemble cast, which is nothing short of stellar. It's hard to pick out one or two performances in a cast that fits together so nicely, but I don't think it's a stretch to say that the core of the movie lies with Garrett Hedlund and Jason Mitchell. Hedlund has certainly been typecast over the years as the stoic, mysterious type, so it's nice to see him really explore a character's heart and soul in depth. When we first meet Jamie, he's smooth and charming, the kind of Southern gentleman who seems just a little untrustworthy. After the war, Jamie is battered and broken, revealing a unique mixture of kindness and anger. That same combination is found in Ronsel, played brilliantly by Mitchell. Ronsel is soft-spoken and genuine, but also rightfully furious about his place in post-war America, and the way that Mitchell captures that emotional push and pull is glorious. The two actors have great chemistry, and they share some of the best scenes of the film.
But the rest of the cast is just as good, starting with the buzzworthy turn by Mary J. Blige. The women of Mudbound are complex and nuanced, and I found Blige's performance to be strikingly memorable, depicting a rift between her duty to her family and her almost motherly protection of Laura and her children. I also wish there was more of Carey Mulligan in the film- Laura is established early on as the core of the story, but she's one of the characters who suffers the most from the fundamental focal shift to Ronsel and Jamie. Laura seems helpless and borderline incompetent at times, but there's a fierce independent spirit to her, a sense of liberation that comes full circle in the final act. It's not hard to understand her sexual frustration when you consider the fact that she's married to Henry McAllan, who is played to uneasy perfection by Jason Clarke. He achieves a balance between this everyman quality and a quiet but obvious kind of cruelty, one that is both inconsiderate and overtly racist at the same time. Henry is overshadowed by his monstrous father (played by a horrifying Jonathan Banks), but he emerges as the film's more understated antagonist. And finally, there's the tremendous Rob Morgan, playing a father trying to keep his head down in a time where the temptation to act is constant. Pick out any of these actors, and you have a valid contender in the supporting races.
Rees's film may seem to be exploring familiar themes of racial conflict and oppression, but it does so in a way that is still overwhelming in its raw power. Mudbound is rich with ideas, exploring this subject matter from an angle that we haven't really seen before. By blending post-war PTSD, the early sparks of the Civil Rights Movement, and the horrors of the Depression into one epic journey, Rees is allowing you to understand this story from a variety of perspectives. The result is both heartbreaking and hopeful, empathetic and tragic. The final act of Mudbound is as blunt and effective as anything I've seen in 2017- you know that this story won't end well, but the way that Rees executes this genuinely disturbing sequence is truly gut-wrenching and shocking. It's a horrifying depiction of America's past, but its tale of destroyed friendship, prejudice, and trauma feels sadly current. The power of Mudbound is its ability to subvert expectations, to draw you in with characters that feel real before reminding you of the ugliness that lurks beneath.
Mudbound runs into a few little bumps in the road, but by the time the jaw-dropping finale rolls around, I doubt you'll care. Dee Rees took on an intense project with her second feature film, and the results are magnificent. Mudbound is harsh but marvelous, an epic swirl of ideas and emotions that is both illuminating and profoundly sad. Led by one of the year's best ensembles, sharp filmmaking from Rees, and the beautiful images captured by Rachel Morrison, Mudbound is simultaneously moving, deeply affecting, and consistently surprising. Even on the small screen, this is one of the most powerful films I've seen all year.
THE FINAL GRADE: A- (8.7/10)
Images courtesy of Netflix
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