To Sleep with Anger

"To Sleep with Anger" It is one of the richest film experiences I've had in a very long time. Since I saw it in 1993, no other American film has seemed as winning and varied as this one. It is a film I return to again and again, for the brilliant ensemble cast, the witty writing and the blend of humor, folklore and tragedy. There are no cinematic pyrotechnics. Mr. Burnett's approach to filmmaking is deceptively simple and yet his film seems far richer and more cinematic than many a more "sophisticated filmmaker". Mr. Burnett has taste and economy. He knows where to place his camera for the greatest effect and how to edit his films in a way that enhances the drama of each scene, rather than using edits to manufacture drama in a scene that is dramatically inert. He is a filmmaker of integrity and genius. This is his masterpiece.

One good role for Danny Glover can erase the memory of several 'Lethal Weapon' and 'Predator' sequels, but it took a small, independently produced feature to bring the best out of one of Hollywood's hardest working actors. In this modest comedy Glover plays an enigmatic travelin' man named Harry, arriving unannounced at the home of some old friends and adding a subtle tension to the domestic friction already eroding three generations of family ties. But the trouble with Harry is less what he is than what he represents: the ghost of old traditions lurking in the cultural closet, and for a family already sensitive to portents and omens he might be the embodiment of all their superstitions. Writer director Charles Burnett keeps the viewer on guard with his elusive plot and complex characters, but the film is understated almost to a fault. The metaphors and hidden meanings (better suited to a stage play) help create a portentous mood, but in the end leave a lot unexplained.

. . . as I have ever seen on film. Danny Glover is an incredibly convincing devilish character - tossed into the midst of your average, striving African-American family. To see his interplay with the parents - who thought they had left their small town ways and superstitions behind - as well as with the two sons - an almost classical prodigal son story - was to witness what surely was one of the best movies of a great movie decade. This movie cemented my status as an ardent admirer of the work of Charles Burnett, surely the cream of the new crop of talented American directors. This is a very suspenseful film, one that will enlighten those with a desire to learn more about the Black experience in America.

For the last several visits to the video store, I've been drawn to this film, but it wasn't until a few days ago that I finally rented it. And I'm really glad I did.

This film glows with delicately-drawn character studies. It is a testament to the effectiveness of subtle storytelling. The story is good, and the characters are gentle but passionate. They are middle class folks who live in a pleasant neighborhood in LA. They have left the hardscrabble life of the South -- with all the attendant superstitions and fears -- behind. Or so they hope...

The responses that the characters have to the presence of evil in their midst are refreshing and true. Though the film is subtle, it never drags, gets sentimental, or sloshes into easy cliches.

Danny Glover is wonderful, but so are most of the other actors. Oh, it's about family, but in a way that attracts us. There are no tried and true gimmicks, no diseases du jour, no soapy interludes. Just people. Doing the best they can. They are sometimes funny, sometimes foolish, sometimes predictable. One thing we notice: they can seem excessively patient with out-of- town visitors...

Danny Glover shows up at the door of his old friends and moves in. Over the next few weeks, a lot of stuff happens.

Charles Burnett's movie seems to be a slice of life piece, showing the variety and contradictions of a small Black community, nominally in Los Angeles. There are tough guys and weak guys, but it's a solid working-class community where the choir sings polite gospel, and the preacher comes to visit the visit and chide them for using "old-fashioned" obeah cures instead of prayer.

This isn't the world of rap or youth, but of the older, settled community. In some ways it seems idyllic, with no drug dealers or gang violence, the standard modern cinematic image of Black communities. There's no rap music, but there is the blues and a small boy playing a trumpet very loudly.

It's warm and frequently silly, and beneath it is a had recognition of being unregarded. I found it very familiar, and if the older folks had been speaking Yiddish, i might have been, if not my own home growing up, then a cousin's, or that of one of my father's old friends.