Passing
NETFLIXThere is much to praise in actress Rebecca Hall's directorial debut, Passing, not only as the first foray behind the camera for the successful British actress, who surprises with an utterly spellbinding cinematic style but, more impressively, crafts a mature and ego-free venture with a prism of thematic complexity.
As directorial debuts go, they ultimately act as a foundation, both thematically and cinematically, for the artists to build upon. From the first ten or so minutes, it becomes abundantly clear that Hall's Passing is something quite different than just a simple foundation, and in actual fact, presents a feature not only far beyond her years in technical skill but provides a complex and brooding portrait of its central themes with brevity and utter conviction.
Breaking down both elements, firstly, the cinematic skill involved here is superb. Hall chooses to shoot on monochrome and, thus, consciously crafts mood and subconsciously infers the racial and social divide, and emotional internal and external combativeness to a beautifully profound degree. It is a small but poetically powerful weight that deepens the emotional core of this feature. Deciding to minimise and condense the screen with the aspect ratio of 1.33:1 goes a long way to craft tension and claustrophobia, echoing the emotional sentiments of anxiety and no escape for the eventual walls closing in.
Setting a feature film – a debut no less – in 1920s Harlem and restraining oneself from showcasing the colour of culture but also the setting itself by putting forward the feature’s thematics first and foremost is a sheer testament to the appreciation and affection Hall and her team have for the material at hand. Increasingly clear is that nothing involved regarding the cinematic flair is a coincidence. The production design from Nora Mendis, for one, is a consistently evolving and emotionally connective power. As Passing begins, Thompson's Irene is surrounded by constant sharpness and blinding white, a clear indication of not only her own submersion but the "social purity" that commands worth within this society, no doubt crafted through the art direction from Kristina Porter. Yet as she is reintroduced to Ruth Negga's Clare, Irene explodes in an internal emotional exploration of race and sexuality. Both being Black, her world begins to subconsciously fill with this colour, specifically in her costumes, propelled forward by costume designer Marci Rodgers.
Cinematographer Eduard Grau’s work is equally as effective on screen. Not being able to respond to the vibrancy of colour, Grau gravitates to the mood and angelic form of shade. His black and white melding create a stunning voice on-screen that feels tortuous in one moment, sensual the next, and moments that are filtered with enigmatic emotional brood. It is never short of looking fabulous and exudes a tender fragility, giving another brilliant foundation for its performances to deliver.
Both Tessa Thompson and Ruth Negga bring terrific performances to this piece, but surprisingly, while the money would be on Negga to be the powerhouse, it is Thompson who crafts the more tender and poetic character – granted, Thompson's character is the lead. Nevertheless, Negga's Clare equally unravels in her own journey of discovery and acceptance, all the while Thompson's character gets much more screentime. Clare is ultimately the catalyst to proceedings, and while her arc is indeed curating with brevity and dynamism, it is indeed layered for quite a dark and brutal underbelly of hurt that writer-director Hall crafts with sincerity and sympathy.
That being said, the fragility and tenderness that both actresses project here are beautifully envisioned. External emotive weight is projected through dialogue between the two, of whom Hall crafts in her screenplay to be flirtatious yet compelling. Thompson's internal prowess here impresses ten-fold, with the actress expertly demonstrating intrinsic frailty that intensifies and takes on a heartfelt spirit of immersion.
Passing is filled with a terrific team of care and detail; small but integral nuances that deepen layers and unspoken history that build a beautiful weight, crafting a profound and powerful feature. It looks stunning with cinematic, stylistic choices that reaffirm the substance and weight of the feature’s themes and tone. Being just around ninety-eight minutes, it feels perfectly paced to stay within the mind of its viewer for days to come.
