Los chicos de la Nickel

The story this movie tells is fantastic and heart wrenching. The acting is superb. At times the director makes brilliant choices. Ok done with the good stuff.

What a train wreck. Seriously. I think this director has a great future, but he threw everything into this film but the kitchen sink. I hated the hand held shaky cam stuff. Why did he do that? It tended to be more shaky early in the film so it kind of set me off early and the story and acting had to win me back. The way POV was utilized throughout was very distracting. We are seeing everything unfold through the character on the screens eyes. At times it is really confusing. The camera is the character. No normal film type interactions at all. Sure if works from time to time, but overall it is annoying. The set up to when Elwood gets in trouble is very long and not well constructed. I have not read the novel but I would guess it has a section about the (limited?) legal process that occurs. It would have been a nice touch. Loved some of the odd montages. Hated others. I still gave it a 7., for the gripping story this film tells, but man ,what a weird film.

RaMell Ross transforms Colson Whitehead's Pulitzer-winning novel into an immersive cinematic experience that confronts systemic racism with unflinching honesty and artistic brilliance.

RaMell Ross's Nickel Boys is not a film that watches passively. It demands engagement, understanding, and empathy from its audience, much like the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Colson Whitehead on which it is based. Through its daring visuals and emotionally charged storytelling, Nickel Boys immerses viewers in the horrors of the fictional Nickel Academy, a reform school in 1960s Florida modeled after the real-life Dozier School for Boys.

The film follows Elwood (Ethan Herisse) and Turner (Brandon Wilson), two young Black men navigating the systemic abuse, violence, and dehumanization at Nickel Academy. Ross opts for an intimate, first-person cinematic technique with the help of director of photography Jomo Fray, ensuring the audience doesn't just watch the story but experiences it through the eyes of its protagonists. From the stolen car that seals Elwood's fate to the mirrored ceiling reflecting fleeting moments of connection, the cinematography is both haunting and poetic.

Ross doesn't shy away from discomfort. Instead, he leans into it, capturing moments of injustice with brutal authenticity. One of the film's most harrowing sequences involves a Nickel supervisor (Hamish Linklater) doling out punishment. The violence occurs off-screen, but the chilling sound of the strap and the visceral reactions of the boys leave an indelible mark. The film also uses historical references, like cutting in scenes from 1958's The Defiant Ones, to deepen the emotional resonance of Elwood and Turner's attempted prison break.

The performances are as captivating as the story. Herisse brings a quiet determination to Elwood, while Wilson's Turner is a revelation, showcasing a raw vulnerability that makes his arc unforgettable. Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor delivers a heartbreaking turn as Elwood's grandmother, Hattie, and Fred Hechinger exudes sinister menace as a trustee of the academy. In flash-forwards, Daveed Diggs portrays one of the survivors grappling with the haunting legacy of Nickel, a reminder that systemic racism's scars endure far beyond the immediate trauma.

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Ross masterfully balances artistry and substance, using his background as a photographer and documentarian (Hale County This Morning, This Evening) to craft a narrative that feels both tactile and transcendent. The visuals are stunning-orange trees swaying in the breeze, civil rights protests flickering on storefront TVs-but they never overshadow the film's thematic weight. The film dares to ask: How do you bear witness to atrocities while maintaining hope for a better future?

Ross's unique approach to storytelling is complemented by an equally daring narrative structure. The film's immersive technique places the audience directly into the emotional and physical landscapes of its characters. By shifting perspectives between Elwood and Turner, the audience is given a multi-faceted view of life at Nickel Academy-its suffocating oppression and fleeting moments of resilience. These shifting perspectives create a layered narrative that resonates on both personal and societal levels.

Some may find Ross's immersive, collage-like approach challenging, but it's precisely this audacity that makes Nickel Boys a must-watch. It's not just a film about the past but a searing indictment of a present still shaped by institutional racism in new and disturbing forms. The juxtaposition of Elwood's unyielding hope with Turner's hardened pragmatism paints a poignant picture of the different ways individuals navigate systemic oppression. This duality adds emotional depth to the story, making it both heart-wrenching and thought-provoking.

Ross also introduces moments of unexpected beauty amidst the darkness. The tactile warmth of a breeze on an orange tree, the quiet solidarity of shared meals, and the fleeting joy of stolen moments all serve as reminders of the humanity that persists even in the face of unimaginable cruelty. These moments are not mere embellishments but integral parts of the narrative, highlighting the resilience of the human spirit.

The film's climax, centered around Elwood and Turner's daring escape, is a masterclass in tension and emotional weight. The use of intercut scenes from The Defiant Ones adds a layer of meta-commentary on the history of cinematic depictions of race and resistance. The pursuit by a white trustee, portrayed with chilling menace by Fred Hechinger, serves as a stark reminder of the pervasive and relentless nature of systemic racism.

Nickel Boys is more than a movie-it's a cry for justice, a call to action, and a work of art that demands to be felt as much as seen. RaMell Ross's fearless storytelling, coupled with extraordinary performances, ensures this adaptation is both unforgettable and necessary. It challenges us to confront our shared history while offering glimmers of hope that change, however incremental, is possible.

Reviewed At Opening Night of the 62nd New York Film Festival at Alice Tully Hall on September 27, 2024.

Colson Whitehead's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, The Nickel Boys, a harrowing tale of abuse at a reform school during the Jim Crow era, deserved a cinematic adaptation that captured its potent grief and unflinching brutality. Unfortunately, RaMell Ross's film adaptation falls tragically short, not due to its faithful rendering of the narrative, but because of a deeply misguided and ultimately crippling approach to cinematography that renders the story practically incomprehensible.

The film follows Elwood Curtis, a bright and idealistic young black man wrongly sentenced to the Nickel Academy, a supposed institution of learning that is, in reality, a breeding ground for sadism and racial violence. We witness the horrors through Elwood's eyes, alongside his more cynical companion, Turner. However, witnessing these horrors is a frustratingly difficult task, thanks to Ross's baffling stylistic choices.

Instead of establishing a sense of place and allowing the audience to breathe in the suffocating atmosphere of Nickel, the film throws us into a relentless barrage of close-ups. Faces fill the frame, disembodied and divorced from their surroundings, leaving us with no context for their expressions or the environment that informs them. This constant proximity might have been effective in creating intimacy if it wasn't paired with a dizzying array of first-person perspectives.

We're thrust into the shoes of various characters, often with no clear indication of who we're supposed to be inhabiting. The camera becomes an erratic, disorienting stand-in for the eyes of the boys, sometimes even inexplicably positioned to stare at the back of Elwood's head. This technique, presumably intended to immerse us in the characters' subjective experiences, achieves the opposite effect. It detaches us, leaving us scrambling to understand basic spatial relationships and the narrative flow.

The result is a chaotic, disorienting mess. Scenes that should be emotionally impactful are reduced to a jumble of fragmented images. Key moments of violence are obscured by the shaky, often illegible camerawork. The film's attempts at conveying the psychological toll of trauma are lost in the visual clutter. It's as if the filmmakers were so determined to avoid a conventional approach that they forgot the fundamental purpose of cinematography: to tell a story visually.

While the performances from the young cast are commendable, particularly Ethan Herisse as Elwood, their efforts are ultimately undermined by the film's impenetrable style. "The Nickel Boys" had the potential to be a powerful and necessary piece of cinema, but it is ultimately undone by its own cinematic excesses. Instead of illuminating Whitehead's devastating story, the film buries it under a mountain of ill-conceived visual choices, leaving the audience lost in the dark, struggling to see the tragedy unfolding before them. It's a film that tragically fails to understand that sometimes, less truly is more.

I enjoyed the artistic stylings of the cinematography. They were as much a part of the story as the plot and characters.

This was hard to watch mostly becausse of the unfortunate truths it portrayed.

Injustice is never an easy thing to swallow. At least for me.

This movie is definitely worth watching if only to inform yourself about the darkness of our past.

But at a 2:20 runtime, it felt somewhat tedious.

I get that the long runtime was meant to correspond to the long suffering of african americans and the lengthy civil rights struggle, but ultimately, it's message suffered for it.

Its poignant story might've been better served as quick, aggressive and brutal. Rather than as the slow and painstaking story it told.

A harrowing tale of abuse and mistreatment of colored youths at a reform school. It is exclusively told from the subjective POV of the main character and a fellow intern he befriends at the school. While I appreciate the ambition behind this, it unfortunately and somewhat paradoxically distances me from the main character. Some early scenes felt a bit contrived and forced with this technique, the dialog never flowing in a natural way. Watched this at Stockholm Film Festival without subtitles was also a bit of a challenge since it was very difficult to make out the dialog in certain scenes. You could grasp the events, but details was lost on me. Despite these objections regarding the stylistic choice, the story was still somewhat gripping but overall, it could have been even more so using a more traditional narrative.