Very few artists were able to capture the wide-ranging milieu of the United States during the twentieth century more than August Wilson, whose Pittsburgh Cycle remains one of the most daring explorations of the last one-hundred years in American history. Gradually, these stories have made their way to film, mainly due to the efforts of Wilson scholar, Denzel Washington, who has now brought to life the second of Wilson’s nine stories that he intends to commit to film at some point. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is not only the most playful of Wilson’s plays, but also one of his most complex, and under the guidance of veteran stage director, George C. Wolfe, whose work in theatre is impeccably strong, this adaptation is quite a marvel. Unlike Washington’s version of Fences, this film uses the source text as a base, rather than using the original play as an unimpeachable work that could not be changed. It allowed for Wolfe and screenwriter Ruben Santiago-Hudson to collaborate on something that feels quite authentic, a heartbreaking period piece that takes advantage of its setting (both geographical and temporal) and the themes that come with it, exploring a distinct moment in American history that comes across entirely genuine and quite fascinating. Perhaps not the most effortless foray into this era, but one of the most visually-striking, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is quite an achievement on its own terms, and whether looking at it as a whole, or breaking it down by individual components, it’s not difficult to find the passion underpinning this poignant, striking glimpse into the human condition, adapted from the work of someone who could capture our collective idiosyncrasies better than most.

There is a depth to Wilson’s writing that not many playwrights can attest to possessing, a striking quality that both situates us as passive voyeurs to a particular story, while still beckoning us forward, inviting us into this world, where we can quietly observe the character-driven machinations embedded in a specific historical moment. Wilson’s work is layered and complex, yet they strike an emotional chord that speaks to any viewer directly – and while it may not be the work he is most remembered for, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is still one of his most enduring works. In terms of the time period it covers, it is the third earliest, being set in the late 1920s, as well as one that centres on a real historical figure, using her as the centrepiece of a fictional story that facilitates some very profound commentary, perhaps more than we’d expect from a film of this calibre. Wolfe has been directing stage productions for decades, including working with Wilson’s work in the past –  he was remarkably well-equipped to helm Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, not only because he has the necessary experience, but also because the more abstract themes of the play, such as the nature of performance and the boundaries between biography and fiction, can only be fully-evoked by someone who had the control over the craft, not only the specific story. Perhaps it is giving too much credit to the director – after all, Wilson’s plays are driven primarily by plot, to the point where acknowledging the direction essentially entails just noting how it was translated from stage to screen. Yet, his touch is immaculate, and Wolfe breathes life into a text that might have just been a convoluted, unconvincing bundle of dialogue-driven scenes, had it not been for his assured hand that was guiding it towards becoming something very special.

Like many plays, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom functions as a work that focuses on three distinct characters, with an array of peripheral individuals woven in for a number of reasons. The film is anchored by three actors doing some of their best work – Viola Davis plays the titular Ma Rainey, a legendary African-American musician who revolutionized her craft in the first half of the century, and who would go on to be quite a formidable presence, even after her death. Davis may have been an unconventional choice for the role – known normally for playing elegant, stoic women, one may not have expected her to play a role that goes against so much of what we know her for. Ma Rainey is a foul-mouthed, volatile loose-cannon of an entertainer, whose defiance of conventions makes her the antithesis of the more moral characters Davis mostly plays. Her performance is bound to be a polarizing one – some have noted how she’s essentially playing to the rafters, losing all semblance of nuance, and instead surrendering to a purely unlikable character. I found Davis to be very effective – it may be a departure from her more sophisticated work, but her commitment to the part, and the willingness she has to bring this character to life, is admirable, with some of her choices being quite effective, even if they can appear strange, with a very interesting character lurking beneath the garish makeup and boisterous attitude. Colman Domingo is also excellent in his role as Cutler, the de facto leader of Ma Rainey’s band, and who tries to shepherd in some order over the course of a chaotic afternoon. Special mention must go to Glynn Turman and Michael Potts, both of which are unheralded industry veterans getting their moment to prove their talents and make a legitimate claim at being amongst the finest character actresses working today, especially in how flawlessly they assimilate into every scene

However, the component that elevates Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom from solid biographical drama to an unmissable event is also the most tragic aspect of the film, namely the performance given by the departed Chadwick Boseman, functioning as his last film before his unexpected passing earlier this year. It’s not difficult to see why this is a performance that is going to resound with audiences – Boseman was an immense talent whose work was always indicative of not only the willingness to dive deep into any role, but the desire to demonstrate nothing but tenacity and dedication, regardless of the circumstances. His performance in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is stunning – he’s a fiery, complex character who stands toe-to-toe with any of the other figures, rebellious and rambunctious and always with a story to be told. If there is any reason to watch this film, it has to be for how Boseman lights up the screen, taking command of every scene and making them his own. This is even more impressive considering that he was working across from Davis, whose larger-than-life personality in the role of Ma Rainey would be a formidable opponent to a character like Levee, but throughout the film, Boseman asserts his dominance and takes control, to the point where this is a film about his journey, rather than that of its notable titular character. His talents were extraordinary, but unlike many posthumous performances, the praise and admiration we have for his work here isn’t derived from sentimentality at his death, since the strengths embedded in his performance are simply unprecedented and unique, with his electrifying portrayal of one of the theatre’s more undersung tragic heroes being absolutely incredible, and the aspect of Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom that perhaps warrants the most attention and praise, which is certainly what it is getting. 

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is certainly not an easy film, both in terms of the story it tells and the manner in which it is told. There are certain aspects that can be quite bewildering, and the claims that Wolfe may have been somewhat heavy-handed in his direction are not without reason (my praise towards his intricate understanding of the text does stand, but not without the caveat that there is naturally a significant difference in how one goes about directing on film as opposed to on stage). Yet, it’s still an extremely strong effort that carries a wealth of meaning, and manages to capture a specific period with poise, humour and a lot of profound commentary on a variety of issues. It’s easy to write this off as yet another stage-to-screen adaptation that limits the action to one or two locations, and is driven entirely by the performances – this is not without justification, but it does become a point of contention when we realize that this is precisely the point. There’s an aloofness to Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom that keeps it interesting throughout, the sense of foreboding danger and something always being left unsaid gives it an atmosphere that piques our curiosity and keeps us engaged, even when the film around it isn’t particularly adept at realizing all these ideas. Ultimately, this is a film that has some emotional heft to it, and when taken alongside the wonderfully strong performances and the striking production design, makes an enormous difference, and keeps us interested in a story that could’ve so easily been an overwrought muddle of ideas, but comes through as a daring, complex social odyssey that feels authentic and heartfelt, which makes a profound difference in every conceivable way, and proves this to be quite an exceptional piece of modern stagecraft captured on screen.