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

It seems a bit inescapable that something, however slight, gets lost in the translation of a stage play to a film. and the same applies to Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. This is the second film adaptation of an August Wilson play, and much like Fences (2016) before it, it’s an incredible showcase for acting talent that almost certainly has greater impact on the stage, with hyper-polished dialogue that sounds a bit less natural than, say, finessed.

It could be argued that makes it better suited for home viewing, as virtually all films have been forced to be since March. There’s nothing in the visual style of Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom that commands big-screen presentation; in fact, the several brief exterior shots featuring 1927 Chicago are rendered with effects that matches the standards of any given television show. Not that said visuals are anywhere near the point of this story anyway. As with any play, adapted for the screen or not, it’s all about the dialogue. Well, in this case, and the music: Ma Rainey sings a lot of the blues, and she does it very well.

Granted, Viola Davis is not doing her own singing in this film, but that does not detract from her performance, which I fear will get glossed over by the attention given to Chadwick Boseman as the upstart, would-be innovator trumpeter Levee, in his final performance prior to tragically passing of colon cancer this last August. The film is dedicated to him, and appropriately so; there is no denying the unique depths of cultural loss in the wake of his passing. His performance is also objectively excellent, as a man so frustrated with the cumulative oppressions of his life that his deep-seated anger creates near-enemies of his band mates, who would otherwise have been allies.

I still think Viola Davis, as the title character, deserves just as much attention, for how she practically disappears into the role of this woman who won’t take any shit from anyone—not the white men running the studio where their recording session is taking place, not the band mates themselves, not even the stuttering nephew she’s brought along with her. In her flapper dresses and charcoal makeup heavily smeared around her eyes, Davis looks far more like the actual Ma Rainey than like herself. Rainey is a Black woman in 1920s America who has enjoyed a measure of commercial success, and her general lack of good humor is clearly the result of years scraping together what modicum of power that success has afforded her. The sense that she isn’t afraid to use it, to do whatever she has to do to get her way, is something Viola Davis brings to every room she steps into in character.

As a side note, I should confess that it took me too long to realize what was going on with the young woman Ma Rainey also brings with her, alongside her nephew, who is apparently her young lover. But their relationship as presented here remains frustratingly vague. This does seem an unnecessary dilution of Ma Rainey’s well-documented sexuality.

The entire story takes place over the course of this one recording session, and nearly all of it takes place inside one of two rooms: the recording studio, or the rehearsal room downstairs. Ma Rainey spends most of her time upstairs, and there’s actually a bit more screen time given to the men in the band as they rehearse downstairs, Levee insisting the studio wants his updated version of Ma Rainey’s song, “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom.” It’s this, among other things, that creates tension between Levee and the other men, who are by and large content to give Ma Rainey what she wants, probably because they know she’ll get it in the end regardless.

Director George C. Wolfe has packed many layers into this presentation of Ruben Santiago-Hudson’s adapted script, which clearly had many layers as an August Wilson play to begin with. All together, they are using the blues from the vantage points of both a few select characters and a certain moment in time, to convey the heaviness of American history, the generational trauma of oppression, and how is effects manifest in relationships between people you might otherwise expect to understand and empathize with each other. It’s easy to watch Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom without getting into the weeds of these many facets, and the film is still fully compelling on that superficial level, if for no other reason that the fantastic performances—which includes the supporting parts as well.

Digging deeper, however, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom’s richness contains multitudes. Their impact is dampened slightly by the adaptive process, but that doesn’t make it any less worth your time. This is still a film that comes from a deep well of soul, which will in turn feed yours.

*I want to see the dance you call the black bottom, I wanna learn that dance*

Overall: B+