It’s in your best interest to discover ‘Forgiveness’
For a captivating journey inside the mind of an artist, “Exhibiting Forgiveness” is tough to equal, both in its beauty and its deep dive into how childhood trauma can be both a burden and an inspiration to achieving greatness. It also marks a change of medium for acclaimed painter Titus Kaphar, effortlessly transitioning from canvase to film to tell a semi-autobiographical tale about summoning the courage to choose mercy over hate.
As his surrogate, André Holland goes all in with his wrenching portrayal of Tarrell, a tormented artist whose seemingly perfect life is haunted by ghosts from a hellish past. The source of that anguish is Tarrell’s homeless, crack-addicted father, La’Ron (a superb John Earl Jelks), a notorious practitioner of tough love administered with heavy doses of physical and mental abuse. Through soul-stirring flashbacks to Tarrell’s childhood, we don’t so much witness a tyrant unleashing his grievances on an innocent kid as much as we come to know a man wildly possessed by the demons of self hatred.
It would be easy to vilify La’Ron, but Kaphar’s gift as a first-time writer-director is the dimensionality he infuses in a man who is every bit as victimized as his son and the boy’s mother, Joyce (“King Richard” Oscar-nominee Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor). It’s the latter, a devout Christian, whose immense capacity for forgiveness, utterly baffles Tarrell to this day. You might even say he envies her capability to leave the past where it belongs to the point of resentment. And it’s that dichotomy of feelings that accounts for much of the film’s tension.
Joyce steadfastly refuses to allow Tarrell to play the victim, not when he has so much to be thankful for in his success as an artist and the loving family he’s created with his equally talented wife, Aisha (Andra Day), and their son, Jermaine (Daniel Michael Barriere). Joyce knows her days are numbered, and it’s her last wish to see father and son reconcile.
The entirely too-smooth synchronization of Joyce’s ticking clock and La’Ron’s decision to enter rehab is a rare misstep by Kaphar. But it’s a device essential to enhancing the movie’s growing sense of urgency, as an increasingly fraught Tarrell fights to keep it together in the days leading up to his next gallery opening.
In demonstrating that his outstanding work in the Oscar-winning “Moonlight” was no fluke, Holland precisely maneuvers the narrow line between Tarrell’s self-righteousness and the gnawing need to quiet his conscience. He enables us to perceive the war of emotions being fought inside Tarrell’s head as it becomes more apparent he’ll never be able to outrun his harrowing childhood. As you’d expect, much of that aggression goes into his art, resulting in masterful works in which his idyllic depictions of children happily at play collide with his reality.
If you’re familiar with Kaphar’s oeuvre, you know that he often literally cuts himself out of the picture, a void signifying a childhood unlived. It’s potent. And for Tarrell, his art is cathartic, almost freeing. That catharsis is essential to his becoming the man he longs to be and ending a generational cycle of misguided thinking that tough love is the only way to raise a child. Aisha is undoubtedly a big part of the healing process, but we don’t see enough of that play out, as Day is too often asked to play second fiddle despite being one of the film’s most precious assets.
Her Aisha is depicted as Tarrell’s equal, an accomplished singer-songwriter as active in her husband’s creative process as he is in hers. One of the film’s most resonate scenes finds Aisha playing a song she’s been working on. Tarrell tells her it “needs more yellow,” and she instantly recognizes what he’s saying in their shared language of artistry. To underscore the connection, the background colors convert to a lemon hue, a subtle touch applied by director of photography Lachlan Milne (“Minari”).
I also appreciate how Kaphar uses Tarrell’s oversized paintings as enticing backdrops and clever transitions between scenes and locations. It’s a signal that you’re in the presence of an artist whose talents are limitless, no matter if it’s on the easel, screen or page. Even more impressive is Kaphar’s refusal to wrap his film up in a neat, tidy bow. There is a modicum of resolution, but it’s not complete, just as it wouldn’t be in real life.
What is certain, is his movie’s ability to tap into something we all share. And that would be our aptitude for forgiveness. For some, like Joyce, it comes easily. But I suspect most of us are like Tarrell, so encumbered by pride and martyrdom that we’d rather punish ourselves than set loose the anger and bitterness. “Exhibiting Forgiveness” negates such thinking the best way it can, through the power of love.
Movie review
Exhibiting Forgiveness
Rated: R for brief drug material and language
Cast: André Holland, Andra Day, John Earl Jelks, Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor and Daniel Michael Barriere
Director: Titus Kaphar
Writer: Titus Kaphar
Runtime: 114 minutes
Where: In theaters Oct. 18
Grade: B
