Have mercy

While everyone is still under house arrest, we decided to continue our film-indulging ways by watching things that we otherwise would've seen at the Michigan Theater via other outlets (Netflix, Amazon, Hulu, etc.) This week's pick was Clemency, something we'd wanted to see after watching a couple trailers before other films, but its residency at the theater was only for a few days. Too-rich-to-give-his-employees-sick-time Jeff Bezos to the rescue(?) I guess.

I enjoyed Clemency in principle, but not so much in execution. It's not unusual that I'll see a film that I think has value because of its story and the message that story conveys, but might've had more if they didn't lean so hard into that message. This film was one of those. Alfre Woodard does a great job playing a prison warden (Bernadine Williams) who is so consumed by her job that she's allowed herself to simply become the tool that performs it, rather than the woman she used to be.  This is hammered home a couple times when she's overseeing the most stressful part of that job- organizing executions by lethal injection -and she becomes lost in the trauma of what she's witnessing while someone tries to get her attention. Repeated exclamations of "Warden?" don't snap her out of it. But finally using her name "Bernadine!" does. It's clear that her identity is lost inside her job until someone finally uses the now-unfamiliar title (her name) that separates her from her primary role. That role also leads her to nursing whiskey alone at the local watering hole and letting her marriage disintegrate, which her husband, Jonathan (Wendell Pierce) doesn't hesitate to remonstrate about, (Don't mess with The Bunk!), despite earnest attempts to keep it alive.

Sharing the slide with Woodard in this downward spiral is Aldis Hodge, as Anthony Woods, the next victim of the state's retribution. He also has some great moments as he comes to grips with the fact that his earnest pleas are falling on the same deaf machinery in the form of the warden, as in the form of the state process. One is essentially inseparable from the other. But he still makes headway with Williams so that we can see just how conflicted she is about what she's become, even as she retreats into that machine-like identity in order to escape the anguish that said conflict is bringing to her. It's a concise form of self-destruction that is the personal mirror of what the state is inflicting upon these prisoners. One can argue that their own actions led to their demise, but it's an open question as to whether being put to death is justified. Similarly, Bernadine must perform her duty, but is the price of the rest of her life and, possibly, her sanity worth that diligence? Again, in principle, that's a story with a solid foundation, interesting characters, and challenging questions. But...

It's simply too slow. The pace of the film is somewhere between overly-thoughtful and tedious. It's clear that writer/director Chinonye Chukwu wanted those long shots of Bernadine in the bar and Woods in his cell to convey the agony of the personal traumas that they were facing. But there are limits to all things and we reached them about halfway through a film that was slightly less than two hours. There were some great moments, like Woods bashing his head against his cell wall in frustration and Bernadine getting jarred from a nice anniversary celebration when she realizes that Jonathan is trying to coax her out of her duty. Those are solid, emotional, storytelling scenes. But they kind of get lost amidst the veritable sea of existential dread; the camera pulling back from Woodard's forlorn, deadened eyes or Hodge's desperate, anguished ones for what seems like several minutes. You remember that moment in Reds where Louise Bryant has been arguing that her repetitive writing is intentional because she's trying to make a point only to realize that it's actually monotonous? Here ya go.

I could see what Chukwu was trying to do and I kind of wanted her to do that. She wrote and presented an emotional film about an emotional topic. That's fine. The problem is that the camera spent so much time lingering on that emotion that I think it kind of missed the forest for the trees. At the aforementioned halfway point, I found myself repeatedly checking the clock because I was really kind of waiting for it to end. A bit more elaboration; a couple more interesting encounters; a few less plaintive stares into the camera and I think we're good to go. As much as I enjoyed the performances, I think you probably want to pardon yourself from this one.