Due donne - Passing

Brilliant actress/activist Tessa Thompson And Eduard Grau with his great cinematography

Although I personally don't like the fact that movies are shot in black and white and 4:3 in the 21st century, it was the appropriate choice for this movie.

Although the movie sometimes escapes to clichés, I loved the narrative language.

This movie is just one of a hundred reasons to fall in love with Rebecca Hall.

Rebecca Hall's directorial debut is impressive, to be sure. She proves with Passing that she has a sure hand behind the camera, capturing genuine human connection and emotion with very limited cuts.

The characters and their interactions provide thoroughly thoughtful material that causes one to wonder what-if anything-would ever be able to truly satisfy them in life, and what sort of wishes would bring nothing but heartache if they did come true.

It seems that Hall had a little too much on her mind, as some of the conflict between characters is quite rushed, leaving motivations vague, and it doesn't come across as strong as it should.

Overall, I'm impressed and I look forward to what Hall does next.

It's beautiful and stylish but it's disappointing. It has a really interesting idea and seems promising at first but then takes a stupid boring turn. In spite of some powerful lines, the screenplay is dull. Performances are very good. It has some good parts but it's flawed, it's a missed opportunity.

"We're all passing for something or other, aren't we?" Irene (Tessa Thompson)

Director Rebecca Hall's successful full-length debut, Passing, shows her artistic inclination to depict women on the verge of breaking away. Irene is a Black woman in the 1920's who could "pass" for white but just spends some time in the white world, being served and accepted in part because she is light skinned.

Now, her friend from her youth, Clare, consciously passes for white, and marries a racist who would kill if he knew his wife were Black. Although nothing shattering happens through most of the story, the racial divide is pronounced between white uptown and Harlem, where Irene and her husband, Brian, a doctor, live in a brownstone with a black maid and the two children he tries to prepare for a racist world they have yet to overcome.

As Clare continues to mingle with Irene's Black social life, Irene quietly assesses Clare's free-spirit and seems gently attracted to Clare. Yet, those feelings are Hall's quiet way of emphasizing the multifaced societal changes in a now truly reconstructed way.

Hall uses a crisp black and white image to accentuate the stark racial differences and the sterile laboratory-like world of incremental societal change. It's also an effective period enhancer. The title "Passing" carries multiple meanings fraught with the dark and light of good clashing with evil.

I couldn't help thinking of Fitzgerald's Gatsby, himself an interloper having romantic notions ill-suited to a society he crashes with dire consequences. Hall has caught the ironies and ambiguities of a society in change.

It isn't all pretty but generally a gorgeous palette with which promising neophyte Hall paints. Isn't it the truth: "I'm beginning to believe that no one is ever completely happy, free, or safe"? Irene

One of the best movies of the year.

Greetings again from the darkness. "We're all passing for something or other." Irene (played by Tessa Thompson) speaks the line that cuts to the quick of Nella Larsen's 1929 novel, adapted here by first time writer-director Rebecca Hall. We are familiar with Ms. Hall's many film projects as an actor, and her debut as a director shows immense promise. Ms. Larsen's novel was inspired by her own life as a mixed-race woman.

It's Irene whom we first see as 'passing' as white as she visits a retail store and takes tea at a fancy restaurant that most assuredly would not serve her if her light complexion and drawn-down hat were not hiding her true self. Cinematographer Eduard Grau has the camera track Irene's darting eyes that are trained to notice potential trouble. Her gaze stops on a woman seated alone. There is a familiarity between the two and soon, Clare (Ruth Negga) has joined her long-ago childhood friend, Irene, at her table. While Irene "passes" when it's necessary, she clearly identifies and lives as an African-American - married to Harlem doctor Brian (Andre Holland). Clare, on the other hand, is living a lie. She has permanently "passed" as a white woman, marrying John (Alexander Skarsgard).

The film's best scene occurs when Clare takes Irene home and introduces her to husband John. His vile, racist nature immediately shows, creating a tense moment filled with excruciating and subtle exchanges of knowing glances between Clare and Irene. It's a dangerous moment and we aren't sure where it's headed. What is clear is that a childhood bond may exist between the two ladies, but there is now a void that can never be filled. But what happens is that Clare finagles her way into the lives of Irene and Brian (and their kids). What we see is that Clare finds the 'honest' life quite enticing. Allowing herself to be who she is ... dropping the façade ... energizes her. Racial identity and sexuality are at stake here, and so are class and culture.

Bill Camp plays a pompous writer named Hugh who always seems to be hanging around the parties and events of Irene. One of the best lines of the film occurs after Bill asks someone why they are hanging around. The answer is brief and insightful, and cuts to the quick. It's a strong debut film from director Hall. It has a dreamlike look and excellent performances from the two leading ladies. The grey area in life is teased, and we do wish the dive had been a bit deeper on Irene and Clare, but that ending is one that will stun you - even if you're expecting it.

Streaming on Netflix.