LFF 2021: The Harder They Fall
LFF 2021Jeymes Samuel’s feature film directorial debut The Harder They Fall is an immersive and consistently entertaining thrill ride that not only breaks boundaries of convention but is devilishly fun throughout.
While Black and Indigenous characters have been present in the western genre since its cinematic beginnings, their voices behind the camera have been missing – arguably until Samuel's film. The Harder They Fall breaks that sour tradition and offers a unique and, thankfully, colourful depiction of the wild west in more ways than one. First and foremost, from its opening sequence, Samuel's feature is brimming with character and charisma.
Long before the viewer has any true perception of angle or narrative direction, Samuel floods his feature as a means to go on. It is a terrific and wildly immersive technique to covey the style without conflicting the substance. The production design, costume, flair of the camera, aesthetic – all in a matter of ten or so minutes – are established in a cool, collective, and utterly intoxicating fashion.
Samuel and cinematographer Mihai Malaimare Jr. propose this aesthetic unbridled. Granted, the duo never undertake a stylish attribute that they can not swing or differentiate to create a compelling image. This is not an ego boost but an artistic exploration that is consistently refreshing. The scope of the surrounding setting is captured in awe. Still, very little is captured here with the external expanse, which has been indoctrinated in cinematic iconography. Instead – and this is where Samuel is such a treat – the characters’ internal stories being explored takes clear precedent. That very decision goes such a long way to give this feature its substance and clarity to its audience that this is not the idyllic, conventional western that has rarely been seen. The conventions of the west are on the back burner, and a new voice, a new direction, is apparent – and it could not be better. Their manifesto is to craft something distinctive and fresh, and they deliver tenfold. The image looks lush and pops with colour, radiating with energy and life. An element that, of course, consciously goes with the ideology of the first Black western with that form of uniqueness.
The set design from Cynthia La Jeunesse and Jay Hart and the costume design from Antoinette Messam brood heart and character. Each respective personality, good or bad, has a unique flair and characteristic to set them apart but also give an external exposition that crafts substance without diverting the narrative away. For a debut feature, that is quite impressive from Jeymes Samuel at the helm, of which that form of maturity is an often overlooked attribute. This element from Samuel and his co-writer Boaz Yakin allows the characters and, ultimately, the performances to brood with unmistakable power.
Regina King and Idris Elba are outstanding. Their respective prowess in the delivery of dialogue and intense weight of physicality is second to none in creating tone and immersion. How cinematographer Mihai Malaimare Jr captures not only the size but the sheer power of Elba on-screen is genuinely breathtaking to behold and steals that very breath each time here is presented. Lakeith Stanfield here, within these merits, steals the show; an actor that, as time passes on, grows into something quite spectacular and a damning shame his version of Candyman never came to fruition. Jonathan Majors and Zazie Beetz craft a cohesive and central warming sexual tension and affection. The former exudes a spectacular level of range and depth – specifically, the features a climactic sequence that is well worth the one hundred and thirty-minute wait. Beetz also showcases her skill, which has been missing of late, with particular choices in her filmography doing little to provide her with a vehicle to showcase such talent. Samuel's film does so with ease.
If it could not get any better, Jeymes Samuel writes and directs this spectacle while also crafting the score and distinctive style to the soundtrack. It is spectacular to witness and provides such a heightened emotional weight that elevates the mood to the extent that it is nothing short of magical – providing perspective, weight and such a powerful notion of representation. Regardless of image and character, this is the attribute that will move the viewer and audience.
Jeymes Samuel's feature The Harder They Fall is, simply put, utter bliss. Not only fans of the genre but those much-needed newcomers who can now see their representation on screen are given a power. Furthermore, this feature will ask Hollywood and the industry why they haven't given Samuel or this feature time and consideration before, of which the director acknowledges it has been in development for over fifteen years. Nevertheless, it is here, and it is a proud cornerstone of cinema, and for Jeymes Samuel – who, as a young boy, used to attend London Film Festival as a spectator only to have his debut feature film presented at the opening gala decades later – is a treat only magic can craft.
