Isn't it strange how we're all walking in the devastation of the past? Every day, life beckons us to fulfill so many financial, social, and personal obligations. Yet all the while trauma of yesteryear lingers over our minds. We all exist in a smoldering psychological crater while also being expected to carry on like business as usual. It's an overwhelmingly bizarre paradox that can leave your mind in a daze. Everyone processes this reality and their trauma differently. Famous painter Titus Kaphar has often used brushstrokes and art installations to explore the relationship between the past and the present. Now he’s directed his first motion picture, Exhibiting Forgiveness, to further delve into this concept.
Painter Tarrell (André Holland) has a lovely life. Sure, he's soaring in the art world. Most importantly, though, he's got a strong relationship with both his wife Aisha (Andra Day), and son Jermaine (Daniel Michael Barriere). Before these happier times, though, Tarrell experienced ceaseless torment at the hands of his father, La'Ron (John Earl Jelks). As Tarrell and his family are helping his mother, Joyce (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor), pack up her belongings for a big move, La'Ron suddenly reappears.
This man, after struggling with addiction for decades, has now sobered up and become a devoted Christian. He wants to patch things up with Tarrell and finally be a devoted father. To say Tarrell is not enthusiastic about this idea is an understatement. He has a seething contempt for La’Ron that hasn’t eased over the intervening decades. At night, Tarrell experiences horrific PTSD-informed nightmares rehashing his tortured domestic life from years ago. Joyce insists that Tarrell follows the words of The Bible and forgives his father. Kaphar’s Exhibiting Forgiveness screenplay is all about Tarrell’s quandary over how to handle La’Ron. What kind of future can they have after this unspeakable past?
Kaphar eventually features a lengthy flashback sequence in Exhibiting Forgiveness depicting an especially traumatic day between La’Ron and an adolescent Tarrell. Though climactic dialogue from Tarrell does make it clear that La’Ron physically abused him as well, Kaphar doesn’t show that here. Instead, this digression into the past emphasizes neglect as well as La’Ron’s toxic worldview. Such elements manifest through this father’s indifference to his son accidentally stepping on a rusty nail and insisting that Tarrell never show an ounce of vulnerability. The world and specifically the double standards for Black Americans has worn down La’Ron. After all that misery, he doesn’t instill in Tarrell with hope about molding a better future. He instead passes on the cycle of psychological torment.
Kaphar’s execution of this glimpse into the past exudes thoughtfulness, not to mention impressive artistic balancing. We get glimpses into La’Ron’s psyche, but it doesn’t come at the expense of the sequence’s naturalism. The material is kept just restrained enough (namely in the dialogue not lapsing into didactic exposition) to still be emotionally believable without sacrificing dramatic insight. This flashback’s focus on just two conflicting human beings also reflects the intimate scope informing Exhibiting Forgiveness. Without question, this feature's most impactful scenes just concentrate on a pair of wildly different people colliding with one another.
This especially includes La’Ron and Tarrell’s first time being alone together in decades. Inside a cellar, with the latter character recording his father’s testimony, the two attempt to bridge their differences for the sake of Joyce. It’s a mesmerizing sequence largely because of its two central performances. John Earl Jelks, for one, is absorbing in portraying La’Ron’s externally nonchalant attitude about the most harrowing events. His casual recounting of how his father once held a gun to both his head and Joyce’s is especially spectacular. The way Jelks lets this story unfold out of his mouth, particularly his closing line of “your granddaddy had flaws”, instills a fascinating mixture of anger and sorrow in the viewer.
How can this man just be so relaxed about violence, both the kind he experienced and the actions he exhibited towards loved ones? The unassuming physicality and line deliveries from Jenks, though, also suggest how terrifyingly commonplace such abuse was for La’Ron. These actions were never treated as something urgently wrong when he was young. Why would he talk about them with aghast horror today? Jelks effortlessly exudes these deeply nuanced qualities all throughout this scene. Playing opposite Jelks here is richly human work from Holland. This masterful performer can just use the furrowing of his brow or the timber of his voice to convey decades of pent-up trauma when engaging with his on-screen father.
Holland's always been a tremendously compelling leading man, anyone who witnessed his gripping High Flying Bird performance knows this. It's so great to see him get a vehicle like Exhibiting Forgiveness to demonstrate his chops yet again. Holland especially excels at portraying deeply conflicted emotions in his interactions with Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor. Terrell has so much love for his mom, yet unasked questions about her relationship with La’Ron plague his heart. This rapport, so molded by silenced queries, is beautifully and realistically captured by Holland.
Exhibiting Forgiveness works best first and foremost as an acting exercise and a darn good one at that. In camerawork and imagery, it's not quite as exceptional. Certain visual motifs (like Tarrell's canvases reflecting his internal trauma following him around in the real world) could’ve used an extra jolt of personality. However, something I appreciated from artists like costume designer Deirdra Elizabeth Govan or production designer Olivia Peebles was a willingness to embrace vivid hues in a thematically heavy story. So many modern filmmakers (Zack Snyder, Simon Kinberg, McG, post-2019 Russo Brothers movies, etc.) dedicate themselves to slathering movies in grey and drab color schemes. It's all in pursuit of the idea that these visual qualities instantly lend motion pictures “realism” and dramatic weight.
However, real life is full of blue skies, distinctively painted houses, and brightly colored T-shirts, even when traumatic events are happening. Various visual facets of Exhibiting Forgiveness nicely reflect this reality. For instance, Terrell dons yellow paints for his climactic art exhibit. An earlier critical conversation between Terrell and Joyce takes place against a bright red wall. That pivotal flashback involving La’Ron and Terrell takes place on a sunny day without a cloud in the sky. Trauma endures even when the sun shines. Titus Kaphar’s artistic confidence retains this reality, which only helps to further accentuate the realistic power of Exhibiting Forgiveness.