Directing: B-
Acting: B+
Writing: B-
Cinematography: B+
Editing: B

There are great things about Harriet, and there are less-than-great things about Harriet, and the first thing about it to distract me was a little odd: as soon as Harriet and her husband John opened their mouths in the opening scene, I thought to myself, damn—those slaves sure had excellent dentists! Their teeth shone with such pearly-white perfection, it made them look like . . . actors.

Which is to say: there’s a lot wrong with Harriet. Or if not wrong, then certainly sort of off. There’s a vague indecisiveness to its tone, as though director Kasi Lemmons can’t decide if it’s a straightforward biopic or a spiritual treatise. This makes it all the more impressive how often star Cynthia Erivo, as Harriet Tubman, rises above all that. Any time Harriet is absorbing in spite of its imperfections, it is because of her. She has a unique talent for conveying vulnerability and strength in equal measure, easing from the former to the latter over the course of the film.

There is no denying that Harriet Tubman, as a historical figure, was an extraordinary woman. A century and a half after she escaped a life of slavery in Maryland, she remains an enduring symbol of both racial justice and feminism. Learn just a fraction of her accomplishments, and it becomes clear that it is far from hyperbole to say she deserves to be the both the first black person and the first woman to be pictured on American currency. (The complications of conflating her accomplishments with material wealth is a conversation for another place and time.) And setting the inevitability of artistic license in movies aside, Harriet depicts a large number of real, historical events that are genuinely amazing. For that reason, you could make the argument that Harriet commands attention. I can see this being a useful tool in near-future American school classrooms.

I just wish a better movie had been made about her. A woman as towering a figure as Harriet Tubman deserves representation in a film that is better than “not bad.”

Which brings me to the genuinely weird bits. Harriet has been subject to some debate as to whether she is depicted as “psychic.” And it is true, she has several premonitions throughout the film, which seem to guide her path as she moves back and forth from north to south and back, leading increasing numbers of slaves to safety. In my view, this isn’t a suggestion of psychic ability so much as Kasi Lemmons, who co-wrote the script with Gregory Allen Howard, infusing into her an element of the divine. This begins relatively early, in a scene in which Harriet leads a group of fugitive slaves safely across a river, apparently thanks to the power of prayer. It doesn’t quite make Harriet Tubman Christ-like, but it does bring her within a stone’s throw of it.

Now, it’s well known that Harriet Tubman was a deeply religious woman, who indeed believed she was guided by God. And I don’t even have issue with her being depicted thus in film. It’s just that Harriet takes it one small step further, taking that notion rather seriously. It seems to say: she was right. Is it so wrong to want a depiction of this woman in which she becomes extraordinary on her own merits?

No human being is without flaws, and Harriet falls into the trap of rendering its hero an unassailable saint. Even when she talks of being “humbled,” it is just more evidence of her sainthood. By the end, Harriet devolves momentarily into sappy dreck, with the requisite “inspirational speech” met by a rapt audience offering her appreciative applause, like countless other movies over the past countless decades. I saw that and could only think: Really?

Such scenes of misguided corniness are augmented by an intermittently obtrusive musical score by Terence Blanchard. And I don’t often note the music in movies, except in Harriet the score often gives way to beautiful spirituals, sung by the slave characters. Harriet is peppered with these interludes, and they possess a powerful, haunting beauty. Lemmons wisely makes use of the incredible voice possessed by Cynthia Erivo, whose vocal talent has already been showcased in last year’s Bad Times at the El Royale. As such, Harriet would have benefited from less of its cheesy score, and a lot more of those acapella spirituals.

Erivo is well supported by others in the very large cast, most notably by the almost ethereal Janelle Monáe as a proprietor friend of Harriet’s in Philadelphia. And, in spite of its moderately fluid tone, Harriet does pack an impressive amount of detail into its storytelling without ever making it feel rushed—a true rarity in biopics. There is much to debate about Harriet, not about the woman but about how this particular movie depicts her. At least Cynthia Erivo carries the weight of an often odd and sometimes contrived script with a dignity all her own. Setting aside the supposed premonitions, it might just still teach us something about the weight and importance of our own history.

*Harriet as superhero: she means business.*

Overall: B