The Man in My Basement, 2025.
Directed by Nadia Latif.
Starring Corey Hawkins, Willem Dafoe, Anna Diop, Brian Bovell, Mark Arnold, Jonathan Ajayi, Tamara Lawrance, Gershwyn Eustache Jnr, Pamela Nomvete, Kayla Meikle, Lizzie Lomas, Miah Hasselbaink, and Shellia Kennedy.
SYNOPSIS:
Charles Blakey, an African American man living in Sag Harbor, is stuck in a rut, out of luck and about to lose his ancestral home when a peculiar white businessman with a European accent offers to rent his basement for the summer.
A character intentionally imprisoning himself in a cage inside a stranger’s basement is unquestionably bizarre, and a somewhat standard role for Willem Dafoe, who thrives on eccentricity. Fortunately, director Nadia Latif’s The Man in My Basement isn’t just weird for the sake of it.
The film is based on prolific author Walter Mosley’s novel of the same name (with this adaptation co-written by him and Nadia Latif), featuring philosophical dialogues on race, Black historical artifacts, white guilt, and allegorical role reversal in slavery between two characters who have more in common than they would ever care to admit, making for a riveting and stimulating experience. These conversations are, unfortunately, also undercut by some gestures at supernatural horror that never amount to anything, along with a couple of other missed opportunities for characterization that are likely stronger articulated in the book. The fact that Walter Mosley has a complicated ancestry, identifying as Jewish and African-American, shows and elevates the material’s complexity.
Played by Corey Hawkins, directionless shut-in and financially burdened Charles Blakey has no family left, no job, and no viable way to pay the bills to keep the eighth-generation home (built by a free family) he has inherited. In what might be one of the funniest examples of white people doing creepy, crazy nonsense, Willem Dafoe’s Anniston Bennett shows up to his front door unannounced, casually asking if he can rent out the basement for a couple of months. Naturally, Charles denies and sends this lunatic away (it’s also unsettling that Anniston is particularly fixated on his basement being this home or that he is targeting Charles specifically), taking advice from his poker friends (a combination of individuals who feel bad and are trying to help or are understandably annoyed by his unwillingness to do anything to better his life) to contact African culture historian Narciss Gully (Anna Diop) to see if anything of value has been passed on through the generations of this home.
It turns out that there is, including some spooky masks brought over from Africa. Charles’ dilemma still isn’t solved, though, as it would take three months to have his artifacts properly investigated and sold, and even longer to have them displayed in a museum and receive compensation. It’s also fitting that Charles’ casual readiness to do away with such historical objects directly tied to history and his family eventually becomes a point of contention, as financially struggling or not, these seem like possessions that should either remain with him or be a part of a museum, rather than sold off to the highest bidder.
Strapped for cash, Charles calls back Anniston and rents out the basement, which, when all three payments are given, coincidentally totals the amount to keep the house. After one night of normal conversation and wine drinking, Charles comes downstairs the next morning to find Anniston locked in a cage, insisting that this needs to be done and that he must undergo a spiritual journey, reading various books on civilization to deal with a troubled past that includes breaking the law. In response, one of the first observations out of Charles’ mouth is what we are all thinking: this will come across as sinister and be dangerous for him if the police or anyone comes searching the basement for any reason. Again, it’s essentially a role reversal of slavery, with Charles regularly bringing Anniston meals.
As much as Charles wants to renege on the deal, he can’t bring himself to do so. Instead, he and Anniston have several conversations that delve into their pasts, ancestry, and current lives, which build a a visually realized portrait of similarities. It also gradually escalates into something darker, with Charles persisting in understanding why he was chosen beyond some twisted penance for white guilt, and who Anniston actually is and what he did for a living. Some of these answers are horrifying, with Anniston’s journey becoming more psychologically probing by the day.
Some of that psychology seeps into Charles, who, at one point, adopts Anniston’s identity when trying to pick up a woman, as if he wishes he could be less wealthy, problematic white man. It’s a dynamic one that the film could have explored more. Anything is more engaging than when The Man in My Basement occasionally shifts gears, flirting with supernatural horror (it is likely something that works better on the page). Still, the themes being grappled with here offer more than enough substance and raise questions about identity that are difficult to answer. And since Corey Hawkins and Willem Dafoe are such reliably tremendous performers, there is a lot to parse from a film that works best when leaning into its conversational strengths and heated back-and-forth banter.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association, Critics Choice Association, and Online Film Critics Society. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews and follow my BlueSky or Letterboxd
