Just watched director and writer Rebecca Hall's outwardly hushed film, PASSING on Netflix; a movie that proceeds at a seemingly slow pace, appropriately filmed in shades of black and white punctuated by moments of piercing clarity. There is a lot to contemplate - layers of constricted definitions that burst open when penetrated by the light of self-awareness, and at the same time often remain sequestered by fear and the comfort of routine. This is a beautifully complex film with boundaries that shatter who we think we are.
Beautifully acted by Tessa Thompson as Irene Redfield- a black woman who lives a comfortable social life in a brownstone with her Doctor husband (Andre Holland) and two young boys in NYC's Harlem of the 1920s. There is often a feeling of aloofness and desolation whenever the camera focuses on her face indicating uneasiness about her life. She is kind and a loving mother but also wants the outside world to not penetrate her cocoon of illusions. Irene also has a maid named Zu (Ashley Ware) who she treats with uncaring remoteness - behaving similarly to the way matriarchs had behaved to their ancestral servants.
One day Irene is shopping and seeks refuge from the glaring NYC heat in a Hotel and sees a childhood friend who is momentarily unrecognizable at a nearby table talking with a man who turns out to be her husband, (Alexander Skarsgard.) This sensual, blonde woman is the vivacious Clare Kendry (Ruth Negga) who is passing as "white", having "erased" her former identity.
PASSING has no easy answers to questions of race and identity. Tessa becomes enlightened observing Clare returning to and embracing the beauty and strength of black culture. The movie has a mysterious longing; jazz and a trumpeter's music is woven through the film creating a pattern of pathos that makes it even more commanding.
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