Mudbound is a lot of things. Adapted from Hillary Jordan’s novel by co-writers Dee Rees and Virgil Williams and directed by Rees, it is a tale of two families who face challenges that are comparable yet very different. These differences constitute the racial relations and tensions of Mississippi in the 1940s (tensions that remain relevant today), while the ambitions of each family in terms of social advancement create the parallels. Through the interplay between the (white) McAllans and the (black) Jacksons, both sharecroppers who have a family member go to war, the film explores themes of expectations both apparent and unspoken, and also highlights the hollowness of the American Dream.
Rees’ film conveys a strong sense of not having a choice. This is established in the opening scene as brothers Henry (Jason Clarke) and Jamie (Garrett Hedlund) McAllan dig a grave for their father, expressing what he would have wanted and the choices that they do not have. The lack of choice becomes more apparent when the Jackson family pass the family funeral and Henry ‘asks’ them for help. The stony expression on the face of patriarch Hap Jackson (Rob Morgan) indicates that he would rather go on his way, but also leaves the audience in no doubt that a black man is no position to refuse a white man’s ‘request’.
These intimate moments populate the film and are its greatest strength, especially when Dees rests her camera on the faces of individuals, whether that be the optimistic yet oblivious Henry, the cynical and dissolute Jamie, Henry’s long-suffering wife Laura (Carey Mulligan), the embittered Hap or his compassionate wife Florence (Mary J. Blige). This ensemble cast express a community weighed down by history and a society that is resistant to change. The resistance extends to the environment that is rendered in tactile detail by David J. Bomba’s production design. From the lived-in cabins to the local grocery store and especially the mud that is highlighted in Laura’s first words, every part of Mudbound feels inhabited, squelched through and thoroughly ploughed. Rachel Morrison’s cinematography is truly
gorgeous, with footage capturing the expansive sky, the tones of the earth down to the grains of the soil and the weary lines across faces. The animation of these faces conveys a weariness that never slips into hopelessness, Morgan being a particular highlight as his rich tones and highly expressive eyes draw the viewer into a perspective of humanity under the constant control of inhumanity.
Less satisfyingly, and indeed a major problem with the film, is that it tends to overemphasise its points, most problematically through multiple voiceovers. As mentioned above, the actors express considerable emotion through eyes, especially in the opening scene that we return to in the film’s final act with greater context. Yet the writers seem to lack faith in the actors’ ability to perform wordlessly, and indeed in the audience’s ability to interpret visuals that tell the story perfectly well. In a film concerned with themes of what is unspoken and continues to be relevant, spelling it out through voiceover is distracting and, at times, patronising.
A further problem is that the film is narratively messy, with the different plotlines forced into parallel rather than flowing smoothly. Some hard edits stand out as symptomatic of this problem, and when you notice the editing, something is not right. The most effective parallel storylines are those of servicemen Ronsell Jackson (Jason Mitchell) and Jamie McNally, both of whom enlist after Pearl Harbor and fight in Europe. Upon their return, one is deeply traumatised by his experiences and the other encounters fresh trauma, the film highlighting how deeply disturbing it is that going to war makes Ronsell more valued and comfortable. Less convincing is a love triangle between Laura, Jamie and Henry, as it receives little build-up and Henry seems to be presented as toxic only in afterthought scenes. When the film focuses upon the oppressed figures of Laura (woman), Ronsell (black) and Jamie (disabled by PTSD), it is convincing, whereas the experiences – i.e. voiceovers – of Hap, Henry and Florence feel like detail for the sake of detail. A deeply harrowing sequence in the final act is undermined by a severe copout at the very end. The overall result is a handsomely mounted and but only intermittently powerful work, which makes the lack of focus and conviction all the more frustrating.
The animation of these faces conveys a weariness that never slips into hopelessness, Morgan being a particular highlight as his rich tones and highly expressive eyes draw the viewer into a perspective of humanity under the constant control of inhumanity.
The extra features from the Criterion Collection include some from the time of the film’s production and others prepared specifically for this release. ‘Take It When You Got It’ is a documentary about the making of the film, featuring Dee Rees and Virgil Williams as well asthe producers, costume designer, makeup designabor and more. Some of these interviews are in studios while others are on location, including the actors talking in costume which creates a sense of immersion. These various talking heads discuss the challenges of making the film look real, and the location work in Louisiana that was key to this process. A particular highlight is Rob Morgan and Dee Rees describing the experiences of their grandfathers, who were sharecroppers and in the military, respectively. Morgan’s account is especially moving but never slips into excessive sentimentality.
A documentary recorded for this release, ‘Iron Sharpens Iron: The Women Crafting Mudbound’, gives Rees a chance to explain her reasons for a largely female crew. The various women including make-up artist Angie Wells, composer Tamar-kali and editor Mako Kamitsuna give valuable insights into the especially collaborative practice that women have, which is, according to them, distinct from a male working practice. Wells explains how make-up indicates character details such as family, class and lived experience and Tamar-kali refers to influences on the film’s music drawn from the history of the area and the landscape, as well as the practical challenges of working on a condensed schedule. As is often the case with this sort of piece, it is as much a depiction of a mutual admiration society as an insight into the filmmaking process, which can be a little tiresome. The most interesting aspect is when these creatives speak about the challenges faced by women in filmmaking, who have a simultaneous hypervisibility and invisibility. It would be fascinating to bring these women together for a roundtable discussion about such issues. Maybe next time.
The conversation around women in filmmaking continues in Rees’ commentary, where she recognises herself as part of an ongoing movement and hopes to encourage producers to hire other women in future. Rees’ commentary provides insights into the colouring of the film, literally from the dirt to the sky, the challenges of shooting different versions of a hole, and finding the locations with the correct ‘quality of yuck’, which is a lovely phrase. Rees’ passion for her material is still evident, from her discussion of using the skills of actors such as basket weaving, the need to shoot in states that offered tax credits, making background actors feel at ease with using racist epithets and the repeated device of laying hands as a sign of love. She also describes the task of collaborative leadership, combining different elements effectively and praising the actors and crew, especially Morrison, Tamar-kali and Kamitsura. Her discussion of editing is striking, using it to unite experiences such as violence of the countryside regardless of race, highlighting black people’s lack of choice with the indifference of the landscape, and the influence of Kamitsura who suggested the re-ordering of certain scenes for the film’s overall assembly. She also indicates her social awareness by referring to race hate crimes that occurred at the time of the film’s production, indicating the relevance of the film’s themes.
There are further interviews, one a discussion between filmmaker Jim Hemphill and DOP Rachel Morrison and another, ‘David J. Bomba: Designing Mudbound’. The first is structured with such chapters as origin, continuity, lenses and aspect ratio, number of cameras, the challenges of lighting locations, and, especially interesting from a film technology perspective, is the filmmakers’ desire to shoot a period film on film, the prohibitive cost of doing so and the challenges of using digital to create the period feel. Morrison’s explanation of why she prefers a shot list to storyboards is a valuable insight into the creation of visual communication, as are her descriptions of coloured gels to create turquoise moonlight, lenses with different focal lengths and how to present a subjective experience with the camera.
Both Morrison and Bomba reference photographs from earlier decades, taken by the Works Progress Administration. These images convey such features as isolation, which Bomba describes as vital to the process. He also explains the importance of using existing cabins and the generosity of owners in allowing them to be moved, as the production lacked the budget or time to build their own. These interviews demonstrate the symbiotic relationship between production design and cinematography, the sort of detail that is gold for budding filmmakers and those interested in how the look of films is created. Despite the shortcomings of the film, the range of extras help boost this release of Mudbound into a valuable purchase, and the likely audience of the Criterion Collection will find much here to enjoy.
Mudbound is out now on Criterion Collection Blu-Ray
