A young dreamer named Elwood Curtis stares intently at his Black reflection in an electronics shop window as a row of small televisions broadcast Martin Luther King Jr.’s speech. Still living under the Jim Crow laws in Tallahassee, Florida, with his nana, Elwood envisions a brighter future — his studious mind is a potential catalyst for the progress ahead.
Years later, staggered by an abhorrent miscarriage of justice, Elwood is shipped to Nickel Academy, where he strikes an immediate bond with fellow Black teenager Turner. As America ventures deeper into the stars above, Elwood and Turner are beaten and overworked, forced to sit in silence as dozens of Black bodies are wordlessly lost six feet under Nickel’s grounds. Despite Turner’s persistent cynicism, opting to accept America’s barbarity, Elwood still believes in the prospect of change.
In his narrative feature debut, director RaMell Ross stitches together a harrowing chronicle of friendship, hope and the mirage of progress. Ross and cinematographer Jomo Fray frame each scene from the first-person perspective of their co-leads, intimately immersing viewers in the haunting beauty of a devastating story.
The experimental presentation of “Nickel Boys” is what sets its beauty apart from other projects of similar nature. It’s the first of its kind. Every shot is delicate, precise and elegant enough to tell a short story all on its own. It’s hard not to feel viscerally conjoined to Turner and Elwood’s surroundings because every subtle movement, expression, plant and ray of light is captured affectionately. Every emotional punch, whether joy, devastation or horror, feels doubly intense and affirming.
The sound design morphs a visual feast into a sensorial experience. Music, peaceful ambiance and blaring silence are interlaced together expertly. The slightest sounds are made loud because our view lies so close to the characters’ ears, conducted with a level of thoughtfulness and detail rarely achieved on screen. No sound goes unheard.
The score mixes angelic jazz and ethereal melodies with eerie orchestral piercings. A soft sense of hope and freedom is replaced by confined dread and despair.
Ethan Herisse and Brandon Wilson are excellent as Elwood and Turner. Herisse plays Elwood as reserved, stubborn and intelligent, while Wilson plays Turner more freely and confidently. Their precious dichotomy is the only slice of liberty and normalcy the two have to grasp. I especially love how both personalities rub off on each other by the end.
The standout performance comes from Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor as Elwood’s nana. Her sweetness and enthusiasm are painfully obscured by grief and the grim injustice that’s befallen her grandson — something she can’t help but blame on herself.
“Nickel Boys” concludes with a soul-stirring montage, juxtaposing cosmic scientific breakthroughs with the backward cruelty of Nickel Academy. The silence emanating throughout the theater was quite possibly the most deafening noise I’ve ever heard. It’s one of those films that is so stunning and contemplative that the tears don’t flow until well after the credits roll.
If it weren’t for its well-deserved inclusion in the Best Picture category at this year’s Oscars, I fear “Nickel Boys,” just like the challenging atrocities it so boldly illustrates, would go largely unnoticed by general audiences.
Popcorn Rating: 5/5 bags of popcorn
