Passing (2021): Black and White

Passing is the much-anticipated new film by Rebecca Hall, now streaming on Netflix. Set in late 1920s New York City, it tells the story of a chance meeting of two thirty-something light-skinned “black” women, Irene (Tessa Thompson) and Clare (Ruth Negga), who had been close friends years ago, growing up in Harlem. 

Clare’s father died when the girls were in their early teens, and the friends had not seen each other since. Clare had moved to Chicago to be raised by her two white aunts, and she took advantage of that circumstance to pass herself off as white. She married a white businessman, had a son with him, and continued to ‘pass’ as a white woman. By contrast, Irene, from whose perspective the story is seen, married a black doctor, has two young children and proudly lives an upper middle-class life in Harlem. 

After many years apart, the two ladies meet by happenstance. Clare is staying at the upscale [fictional] Drayton Hotel in downtown NY, while her husband John (Alexander Skarsgard) is in town on business. Irene has popped into the Drayton’s cocktail lounge to cool off on a hot day, when she notices her old friend coming in. Irene is uncomfortable with and even repulsed by her former friend’s imposture, especially after she meets John who, assuming that as his wife’s friend she too is white, tells Irene how much he hates the black race. On the other hand, when we first meet Irene, she herself seems to be using her light skin and middle class grooming to pass as white herself at the posh Drayton, if only to get a respite from the suffocating downtown heat. 

Not surprisingly, Passing  is an examination of how the color of one’s skin affected rights, privileges and standing in the America of that era, (and still today). More interestingly, it looks not just at how white racist attitudes impacted black people, but also the elevated class status bestowed on persons with light or pale “high yellow” skin within black society. In so doing, the film subtly underscores the superficiality and absurdity of the human tendency to value or to judge other people based on color. In other words, the lie of “race”.

The story unfolds as the ebullient Clare seeks out Irene and becomes progressively more involved in her life - and through Irene discovers how effortless it is, when among her own kind in Harlem, to drop the pretense of being something she’s not and to just be herself. This freedom is intoxicating, like a drug, and Clare can’t get enough. But like any addictive drug, it is dangerous too. Irene knows this and becomes increasingly worried on her friend’s behalf. What will happen if and when John finds out? After all, white society can crush Clare, cancel her marriage, take away her child, remove her source of support, and more. 

Indeed, if anything, the situation makes the class-conscious, risk-averse Irene increasingly aware of the strict race lines in America, and the dangers of crossing or ignoring them – even as she has done on occasion. Irene cherishes her middle-class life, with the status, privileges, and material comforts that it brings. Until now she has tried not to think too much about the precariousness of her own situation. Her husband, Brian (Andre Holland), has no such illusions. On the other hand, he, too, can’t help but be charmed by Clare’s flirty and brazen manner, even as he may recognize it as a front.

I had a very mixed reaction to Passing when I was watching it, and I still do several days later.  Its themes about race, class and posing are hardly news. Irene, our primary protagonist, is portrayed with a carefully curated remove, so we never actually get close to her or feel one with her; and in fact the story as a whole is told so sparely with, in my view at least, such emotional restraint and such an excess of subtlety – at least until the rather dramatic final scenes – that it never quite moved me. And it did not feel credible (but instead, rather incredible) that for most of the picture, and in fact throughout all of their marriage, John (who was anything but colorblind) never recognized his wife’s black ancestry. Ruth Negga was made up to appear much paler than she actually is (compare her appearance in 2015’s Loving, for example), but still . . . suspension of disbelief sometimes can only go so far. The ending was quite abrupt, a criticism that was also leveled at the 1929 novel from which the story derives, leaving many questions with no clear answers. 

That ending, with its mysteries, was also intriguing, however. And the subtlety of the story kept coming back to me days after I had seen the movie; so much so, I had to rethink my initial opinion. The relationships between Irene and Clare, between Irene and Brian, between Clare and her black heritage, became more interesting in retrospect. As did the depth of the film’s treatment of its main themes. And I had to admit that all the actors were terrific, with special kudos going to Negga for a bravura effort. Tessa Thompson was also quite good, even though her character was more constrained. 

Clearly, first impressions are not always the end of the matter.  

Passing  is shot in an old-fashioned format to underscore the time and place in which the story occurs: using the boxy 4:3 format, rather than the wide-screen look that’s been predominant for the last sixty to seventy years; and in black and white rather than color. Visually, the photography struck me as trying too hard to be “arty”. More significantly (and one of my key criticisms): the interior photography was often simply too dark. The idea seemed to be to shoot everything exclusively with natural light – in Irene and Brian’s Harlem brownstone at least; the result being that as the camera tracks Irene, for example, coming into and through the first floor of her home, she is well-lit in the entry, barely a shadow in the middle portion, and once again appropriately lit in the kitchen, with it’s large back-facing windows. Absent a reason for doing this, I kept asking myself why?

These may be quibbles. Part of my problem, I now believe, is that the film came to me overrated. Whatever I was expecting wasn’t fulfilled. Passing  carries a high critics rating of 83 on Metacritic.com and an even higher 90% on Rotten tomatoes. What most critics seemed to enjoy were many of the qualities that initially put me off: the film’s subtlety and nuance, its remove, and its shady photography. But also the terrific acting and its lingering, thought provoking themes.  So yeah – I sort of agree. Given that this is writer-director Rebecca Hall’s first directorial effort, it is a very good beginning. 

But I think she cut it a bit TOO fine this time – with too much attention to the technical and mise en scene details, too little to bringing us a bit closer to her characters.   

1 hour 33 minutes 

Grade: B+

Streaming on Netflix