Origin, 2023.
Written and Directed by Ava DuVernay.
Starring Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Jon Bernthal, Niecy Nash, Emily Yancy, Finn Wittrock, Victoria Pedretti, Jasmine Cephas Jones, Isha Blaaker, Vera Farmiga, Audra McDonald, Connie Nielsen, Blair Underwood, Nick Offerman, Stephanie March, Myles Frost, Suraj Yengde Ph.D, Donna Mills, Franz Hartwig, Daniel Lommatzsch, Mieke Schymura, John Hans Tester, Leonardo Nam, Ingo Hülsmann, Holger Handtke, Felix Goeser, Luis Lüps, Konstantin Lindhorst, David Bredin, Matthew Zuk, Hannah Pniewski, Jessica Fontaine, Zing Ashford, Akil Jackson, Malachi Malik, Gissette E. Valentin, Abhishek Arun Bhalerao, Ishaan Yadav, Dhrubo Jyoti, Snehalata Siddharth Tagde, Lennox Simms, and Allan Wilayto.
SYNOPSIS:
While grappling with tremendous personal tragedy, writer Isabel Wilkerson sets herself on a path of global investigation and discovery.
In the effort to explore the connective tissue between slavery, Nazi Germany’s crimes against humanity, and Dalits (“untouchables” in India, born into dehumanization), writer Isabel Wilkerson (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor) theorizes that this is not an issue of racism, but the caste system.
This allows for Ava DuVernay’s Origin to function as a sweeping, historically ambitious film that begins with a glimpse of Trayvon Martin’s final moments alive before a tragic encounter with rogue neighborhood watcher George Zimmerman, which becomes a launching pad for Isabel digging deep into history, treating viewers to several ongoing story threads across different era, generally involving those who first did research on the Nazis, the caste system, and even a tragic love story between a defiant German writer who took a Jewish partner during the height of the Nazi regime.
Even at 140 minutes, it’s a hefty amount to tackle in one film, with that ambition sometimes coming at a fault where Isabel’s research and the attached side stories don’t feel fully fleshed out, but rather educational in a movie that ultimately boils down to its thesis, and a questionable thesis at that which some viewers might outright reject. Nevertheless, a lengthy 25-minute montage towards the end, dramatically elevated by Isabel’s moving narration, beautifully ties these parts together, even if it’s still somewhat odd that this film pushes racism aside as a smaller cog in a bigger machine.
There is also Isabel’s personal life which the film occasionally explores to a less effective, more schmaltzy degree. She is a writer who has written one critically acclaimed book yet has been unable to find inspiration for her next work while also finding herself caught up in her mom Ruby (Emily Yancy), moving into an assisted living facility. Her husband Brett (Jon Bernthal) is supportive and unafraid to get a reality check that she is not necessarily living for personal fulfillment at the moment. Later that night, after he attempts to apologize by fixing her a plate of pasta, he unexpectedly dies from a fatal condition. Soon after, Ruby also passes, leaving Isabel with nothing to do but finish this next book for herself, her loved ones, and a confused world seeking answers to tough questions about society.
Much of this is a bit too sentimental, although there are some quieter, nuanced bits, such as a brief scene where Nick Offerman shows up as a MAGA-hat sporting fixer-upper, naturally putting out some casual prejudice vibes until Isabel does something that she shouldn’t have to, which is reaching out, talking to him, and making him feel like a person worthy of being seen.
It’s such a disarming moment for the worker that one wonders if anyone in this guy’s life, which most likely consists of deep-end right-wingers against expressing their emotions, has ever had someone ask him about loss and listen. The scene also plays into another one of Isabel’s harrowing but truthful theories, in that it’s easier for people to dehumanize and cast aside a group but accept an individual from an othered group because once that connection is made, their humanity is unavoidable.
Whenever Isabel is not grieving at home, she meets up with her cousin Marion. (Niecy Nash) and other acquaintances to discuss life, sometimes finding herself explaining her theory on the caste system being the root of all these crimes rather than racism in layman’s terms to put into her book. She also travels the world, checking out books from German libraries and spending time amongst some Dalits, giving the film a richer, grander, epic texture (remember, there are flashbacks to multiple compelling but underexplored subplots along the way.)
Admittedly, once the personal tragedies are done with, and Isabel has her motivations for throwing herself into writing this book on the caste system, Origin is comprised of so many globetrotting interview interactions with supporting characters that it begins to feel like a documentary (even one of the Dalits is a real-life accomplished person playing himself), losing immediate narrative thrust.
Fortunately, everything Isabel and Ava DuVernay explore makes for polarizing conversation starters, cultural enlightenment, and bleak truths about humans. As a filmmaker, she ultimately knows what she is doing and how to unite all the threads for a hard-hitting emotional impact that drives home the thesis of the film and Isabel’s novel, staying in the mind and calling to action.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
