Wow, I take a weekend off and my local multiplex is suddenly deluged with new indie films that nobody’s heard of. Including one that apparently has a 93 percent Tomatometer. Intriguing. What have we got?
Exhibiting Forgiveness is the debut film of writer/director/producer Titus Kaphar, who made his name and success as a highly provocative painter. Appropriately, this is the story of Tarrell (Andre Holland), who’s apparently successful enough as a painter that he can afford a luxurious house with his own private warehouse for a studio. I might add that he’s happily married to a beautiful and likewise successful singer/songwriter (Aisha, played by Andra Day) and they’re raising an adorable young son together (Jermaine, played by Daniel Berrier).
After half an hour of this, I was wondering where the hell the plot was to this movie. Then we finally meet Tarrell’s estranged father.
We meet La’Ron (John Earl Jelks) in the gutter, just before he gets his ribs broken in a violent fight (long story). By and by, we learn that La’Ron was a junkie who burned every bridge he had in the pursuit of more money to buy more drugs. I’ll spare you the gruesome details, but suffice to say that he was an abusive piece of shit who beat his wife (Joyce, played by Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor) and worked his young son to the bone so the both of them could earn more money that La’Ron would use to buy more drugs. Leaving no money behind for the pre-teen boy working through inhumane conditions for that same money, I might add.
Flash forward to the present day, when Tarrell is an adult with a son of his own, La’Ron is taking steps to get sober, and La’Ron is interested in patching things up. Easier said than done.
Watching this movie, I tried to pay close attention to how many characters ever said “I’m sorry”, or offered an apology, or expressed any kind of remorse. By my count, only two characters ever do: Tarrell himself, and an asshole white guy. And hell if I know what Tarrell had to be sorry for.
La’Ron desperately wants to be forgiven for all the awful shit he did, but he never expresses remorse. He’ll keep repeating that he’s a different person now. He’ll talk about how his son is so much tougher and more successful because of the abusive upbringing. He’ll talk about how his own father was so much worse and this was the only way he knew how to raise a son. And of course we can’t forget that he was high out of his mind all the time. La’Ron can offer nothing but excuses and justifications, and nothing is ever his fault.
As for Joyce, she lives and dies by her rose-colored glasses. She focuses obsessively on the bright side, saying all the bad times were worth it because she got Tarrell out of it. She’ll talk about how La’Ron was broken by the greater racist system. She’ll go on and on about the Bible and how Tarrell has to forgive his father in Jesus’ name. But then she gets awful quiet when Tarrell brings up the story of Abraham and Isaac. And she refuses to talk about the abusive episodes, insisting they were only bad dreams. And when Tarrell asks why she left him alone with his father, knowing perfectly well what La’Ron was doing and what he was capable of, dead fucking silence.
Basically put, the both of them (Joyce, more than La’Ron) are trying to put the pain behind them by pretending that the bad times really weren’t that bad, or that the bad times never happened. Except that’s not forgiveness. That’s denial.
Moreover, Joyce and LaRon are both hiding behind their Bibles, piling on family guilt, crying about all the water under the bridge, blaming anyone and everyone but themselves. They want to be unconditionally forgiven without ever processing their guilt or admitting to their responsibility in the abuse of their son. Yes, that level of introspection and honesty involves heartbreaking pain and soul-rending work. But these two want to be loved and absolved without putting in that work. Fuck that chickenshit.
All of that said, it bears mentioning that Tarrell himself has recurring PTSD nightmares that pose a clear and present danger to his wife and kid. Not to mention Tarrell constantly second-guessing himself in his efforts to be a more caring and compassionate father. In his own way, Tarrell is in denial just as badly as his parents are. He clearly needs help processing that grief, and it’s hard to say if forgiving his parents would potentially do more harm than good.
I need hardly add that Tarrell’s parents are both getting on in years, and visibly worse for all the wear. So if there’s anything Tarrell needs to say or hear or do to move on in a healthy way, the clock is ticking. That said, Joyce and La’Ron would do well to remember that time limit goes both ways.
And then we have Aisha, easily my favorite character in this movie. Because she’s the one and only character in this movie who flat-out asks the vital question of what would be best for Tarrell and his son. She calls La’Ron out to his face, all but literally accusing her father-in-law of seeking absolution to ease his own guilty conscience with no regard for how or whether it’ll affect anyone else. Damn shame she never does the same to Joyce, but I’ll take it.
I’m sorry to say that Kaphar fell victim to a classic first-time filmmaker blunder: The pacing is shit. Yes, I get that this is a heavily introspective film that focuses more on inner turmoil than external action. Yes, the film dedicates a lot of time to paintings and the act of painting as a spellbinding visual metaphor for Tarrell’s emotional state. With all of that said, the first act takes way too long getting this movie off the blocks. And all throughout the two-hour runtime, there’s so much dead space that might have been better used to call the various characters out on all their chickenshit.
Exhibiting Forgiveness is a tough one to judge. It’s superbly acted and the paintings make for an ingenious visual hook, but it deals with a lot of heavy subject matter. The characters are all developed in remarkable depth, but they’re all so full of shit and steadfast in denial that I didn’t enjoy spending time with them.
It’s not often I find such a good movie that’s so hard to recommend. This is such a small and intimate movie that it doesn’t feel right recommending this for a big screen viewing. But it’s definitely not the kind of movie anyone would put on to unwind at home. I’m not even sure who the intended audience was, aside from arthouse snobs and filmgoers sick of black-led movies that only talk about race.
In all honesty, I think the big problem here is that it was made in the wrong medium. As a film, I have a hard time seeing these characters blown up on the big screen, welcoming them into my home, or letting them sit in my DVD library. But if this had been a stage play, it would’ve been freaking incredible. I seriously wish I could go out and see this at one of my local community theaters, watching flesh-and-blood people tearing each other’s hearts out, processing all these deep emotions with everyone else in the audience.
Titus Kaphar is certainly a provocative talent with a lot of compelling statements to make, but I’m not convinced that he’s a practiced enough storyteller to pick the right medium for the right story. I’ll be fascinated to see what he comes up with when he hits his stride.