On the surface, Luce Edgar seems like the perfect son. He’s a star athlete. He’s valedictorian of his entire school. And that’s not even considering his past. He’s a former child soldier from Eritrea who, against all odds, seems to have put his trauma behind him, and formed a healthy, stable social life. “Seems” being the keyword here. See, one day, a teacher asks him to write an essay in the voice of a historical figure, and Luce delivers a piece emulating the style of Frantz Fanon, a pan-Africanist who argued that violence was necessary to settle political disputes. Disturbed, this same teacher breaks into Luce’s locker and discovers fireworks there. She alerts Luce’s parents to both of these things, and while neither of them wants to believe that their son could be capable of violence, as they do more digging, they realize that there might be more to their baby than once thought.
The best way to describe Luce is “frustrating, but in a good way.” This is a film that hinges upon doubt and ambiguity. It requires that you never fully know the truth. Is Luce a dangerous, damaged individual? Or is he simply a stressed-out kid, with too much pressure and societal expectation causing him to crack? You never really know, even by the end. The optimist in me wants to believe the latter, but certain details the film reveals about Luce suggest the former. And, again, the movie never gives you an answer. Adapted from a 2013 stage play, Luce is a movie where language, and the numerous ways it can be read and misinterpreted, are at the forefront. It’s a subtle, nuanced piece that requires skilled actors to maintain their ambiguity. And, fortunately for us, the movie has just that. Every single person in this film is fantastic. Octavia Spencer shines as Luce’s concerned teacher. Naomi Watts and Tim Roth are superb as his parents, with Watts being the one who desperately wants to think her son is a saint, and Roth the more reserved and cautious of the two. Andrea Bang, of Kim’s Convenience, plays Luce’s girlfriend, Stephenie, who at first seems like a scared, helpless girl, but just maybe playing everyone like her boyfriend. And how could I forget the man of the hour, the performer upon whose shoulders the success of this entire film rests? Kelvin Harrison Jr is simply fantastic as Luce. He has to convey so many different subtle emotions. He has to make you believe that he is a monster one minute, and a saint the other. And, my God, he is up to the task! If there aren’t some awards for this flick by the end of the year, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Something else I like about this movie is how, even though it’s adapted from a stage play, it never forgets that it’s a film. See, certain movies that are adapted from plays, like Fences or American Buffalo, don’t have an interesting or sophisticated visual language. It’s just close-ups on the actors’ faces while they talk, and, occasionally, wide shots. Here, though, the director, Julius Onah, uses framing, camera movement, and music to amp up the tension and enhance the drama. I want to emphasize the music. There are two main tracks, a wailing organ piece, and a thumping, hip-hop bass, and they both work together to build up a sense of dread. I was frankly impressed by how good the directing was, considering that Julius Onah’s previous film was my least favorite movie of last year, The Cloverfield Paradox. Now, in fairness to him, I did like the camera work and performances in TCP, so he has a talent with actors and a good cinematic eye. And I don’t think that flick’s incoherence is entirely his fault. It wasn’t originally a Cloverfield movie. Producer JJ Abrams decided, after the film had been announced, that it should be retroactively turned into one, and kept demanding rewrites. And the film itself kept getting delayed because of these changes. All of which is a long way of saying, I liked the directing in this movie, and Julius Onah shouldn’t be blamed for TCP.
Now, in case it seems like I had no problems with this movie, I did. First, you have to suspend a whole lot of disbelief to buy this premise. At my high school, if a teacher was caught going through a student’s possessions, they’d get fired. Even if there was contraband. And yet we’re supposed to believe that Octavia Spencer has done this to numerous students, and no parents have complained? On top of this, the film’s ambiguity, while necessary, does get to a point where you wind up feeling a little bit cheated. Like, near the end, I found myself saying, “Come on! You can give me SOME answers.” A prime example of this is the subplot involving Luce’s girlfriend, Stephenie. The two of them broke up for reasons that aren’t quite clear at first. Then Stephenie claims that it was because she was molested by a bunch of Luce’s track bros (and possibly Luce himself) at a party. But then, towards the third act, she changes her story again, and (without getting into any spoilers here) she reveals herself to be just as deceptive as Luce. And the final shot of her and Luce together suggests that maybe the party at which she was molested never happened. Maybe she, Luce, and all her other supposed attackers were in cahoots, conspiring against a particular teacher they didn’t like. I would have loved some clarity on that point, at least. Because it’s not evident, and in a way that isn’t satisfying. My other main criticism is the subplot involving Octavia Spencer’s sister, who has some unspecified mental illness, possibly schizophrenia. It’s not that this story is pointless, because it does, in a very harsh, tragic way, tie into the main narrative. It just feels like a different movie entirely. Whenever we’d cut to it, I’d find myself scratching my head, and going, “this is all fine. Good performances. I believe they’re sisters. But why is this in a movie about a potentially dangerous student?”
In the end, though, Luce’s performances, its dialogue, its music, and the complex, mirky questions it asks all make it well worth a watch. I’d honestly place it in my top 10 list for this year so far, alongside The Farewell and Shazam. Don’t hesitate to give it a look.
liusviews 