Fans of Colson Whitehead’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, *The Nickel Boys*, might anticipate a straightforward adaptation of the harrowing story. But RaMell Ross, director of the critically acclaimed documentary *Hale County This Morning, This Evening*, crafts a film that is anything but conventional. His big-screen debut of *Nickel Boys*, premiering at Telluride and the London Film Festival, is a bold, visually captivating exploration of the brutal realities of a segregated reform school in 1960s Florida.
The film unfolds from the perspective of Elwood (played by Ethan Cole Sharp as a child and Ethan Herisse as a teenager), a bright and optimistic young Black boy. Ross’s keen eye for detail, a hallmark of his documentary work, is evident in the film’s opening moments. We see Elwood’s joyous innocence – his playful adventures on jungle gyms, his fascination with strangers at parties, and the loving touch of his grandmother (a remarkable Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor). This initial sense of wonder is juxtaposed with the ever-present reality of racial injustice and systemic oppression. Elwood witnesses firsthand the casual racism of the time, from the stares of white passengers on the bus to the inspiring words of a teacher passionate about civil rights. Ross’s camera, expertly handled by cinematographer Jomo Fray, dances between hope and despair, capturing the fragility of Elwood’s world.
This delicate balance is shattered when Elwood’s future is abruptly ripped away. A fateful ride with a stranger leads to an unjust arrest, and Elwood is sent to the Nickel Academy, a segregated reform school that serves as a brutal reminder of the deep-seated racism of the era. While white students enjoy a semblance of normalcy, Black boys at Nickel face unimaginable horrors. They endure a life of back-breaking labor, meager education, and barbaric punishments for the slightest infractions. The film doesn’t shy away from depicting the violence and brutality inflicted upon these young boys, with Ross using a powerful blend of imagery and sound to convey the harrowing realities of their existence.
Elwood’s journey takes a new turn when he meets Turner (Brandon Wilson), a more jaded and street-smart inmate who challenges Elwood’s naive belief in the system. Turner knows firsthand that true justice is elusive, and his cynicism serves as a stark counterpoint to Elwood’s hope. The film seamlessly shifts between Elwood and Turner’s perspectives, drawing viewers into their shared struggle. The first-person perspective is remarkably effective, making viewers feel the physical and emotional impact of the abuse. We flinch when boys attack them, and we cower alongside them in their beds, fearing the horrors that might await them in the darkness.
The sequence depicting Elwood’s first brutal beating is particularly striking. Ross uses a combination of visual storytelling and archival footage to convey the chilling reality of violence. The camera pans out to show the back of Elwood’s head as he receives his lashings, and each strike is accompanied by black-and-white photographs of other Nickel boys who endured similar torture. These jarring transitions highlight the cyclical nature of violence and the enduring legacy of Nickel’s cruelty.
As we journey through Elwood’s story, Ross seamlessly interweaves the past with the present. Decades later, an adult Elwood (played by Daveed Diggs) owns a small moving company in New York. He is haunted by his past, and the weight of his experiences is evident in his withdrawn demeanor. Ross’s use of the camera is masterful here, again showing the back of Elwood’s head, highlighting his emotional distance from his own life. As we move between past and present, we are reminded of the lasting impact of Nickel on Elwood’s life, leaving him perpetually grappling with the trauma he experienced.
*Nickel Boys* is a film that stays with you long after the credits roll. It’s a powerful reminder of the importance of truth and justice, and a poignant testament to the resilience of the human spirit. Ross’s film is a masterpiece of visual storytelling, a powerful testament to the importance of remembering the past, and a call for a future where justice prevails.
