We often see in the world of art, the most difficult periods in terms of social or cultural obstacles often serve to be the foundation for some of the most incredible works. The Harlem Renaissance was one such period, where many African-American artists used their experiences to push the boundaries of every conceivable medium, telling their stories and expressing themselves in a way that not only felt natural to their origins, but paid tribute to the battles they had been fighting for several years. Nella Larsen was a pivotal figure in this movement, and her most significant work is Passing, which is often considered one of the greatest works of American literature ever written. Surprisingly, despite being a pivotal piece of writing with historical resonance, it took nearly a century for anyone to even attempt to adapt it. Mercifully, it was well worth the wait, since Passing has been transferred to the screen in the form of Rebecca Hall’s directorial debut, which is one of the year’s most striking and gorgeous films. Taking the achingly beautiful words by Larsen, and merging them with a distinct visual palette drawn directly from the culture at the time, Hall creates an unforgettable series of tableaux that give us unfurnished, direct insights into what life was like for the middle-class in the late 1920s, particularly for the more marginalized communities who were often the victim of ridiculous, dehumanizing laws and restrictions. In the process, Hall establishes herself as a fascinating new talent behind the camera, bringing an intense but unique directorial perspective to a work that has been yearning to be handled by a filmmaker with the careful touch to tell the story without trivializing the issues deep at the heart of the narrative, keeping everything about Passing simple and honest, and in the process uncovering a range of impactful truths lurking beneath Larsen’s beautiful but cauterizing novel.

The film centres on two childhood friends who find themselves on different sides of the cultural divide in 1920s New York. They are members of the black population that find themselves fortunate enough to be able to convincingly live their lives as white women, mostly as a result of lighter complexions and more European features that afforded them the chance to fool the outside world to their true identity. In a time when race was not only cause for a large portion of the population to be treated as inferior, but also to have their lives put at risk by overly-zealous, vengeful bigots, the idea of “passing” was very appealing to those who had the opportunity to do so. Passing was a novel undeniably ahead of its time, and even nearly a century later, it remains cutting-edge and provocative. This not only proves that the collective artistic mind during the Harlem Renaissance resulted in works that pushed boundaries, but that these issues are still very pressing, even on a global scale. Hall had a lot of work ahead of her when she set forward to adapt Larsen’s novel, but clearly having a strong connection to the material (particularly through being the child of an interracial marriage, as well as someone who has spoken about how she has essentially been able to “pass” her entire life as a result of her appearance that doesn’t hint towards her ethnic background) was more than enough to warrant her efforts in bringing this story to the screen – and the result is one of the years most melancholy, profoundly moving films, a heartfelt and deeply meaningful exploration of race, identity and social inequality, all of which are filtered through the heartwrenching lens of a novel that has remained one of the most essential works of early African-American literature since its publication, and this film a truly faithful adaptation that captures the spirit of the author’s intentions, while venturing further into this seemingly distant, but undeniably prescient, version of the past.

Passing features two extraordinary performances at its core, with Tessa Thompson and Ruth Negga delivering inarguably their finest work to date, which is certainly a bold statement considering how they are steadily becoming two of the most reliable and consistently brilliant actresses working today. Thompson is Irene, who is proud of her heritage, living her life as a fearless, ambitious black woman in a society that unfortunately views people like her as inferior. Negga is the inverse – someone who has chosen to lean into the fact that she can convincingly portray the image of being a white woman, which gives her a considerable advantage in a society that is built on racist rhetoric. Considering how much of Passing is built on the dynamic between these two women, it was vitally important that they both turned in strong performances, or else the story would not have been so deeply moving. Negga is the standout of the two, particularly because she has the more interesting character – Clare is a woman caught between worlds. She benefits from being considered more elite due to the fact that she conveys the image of being white, but she clearly does not enjoy the stiff, humourless life she has married into, preferring the vibrant, energetic world in which she grew up, which leads her to seek a way to benefit from the best of both worlds. Thompson is the more level-headed of the two, and should not be dismissed, especially since her earnest, salt-of-the-earth candour sharply contrasts with the flighty, indecisive and hedonistic nature of Negga. Both actresses are exceptional, and turn in work that is absolutely some of the finest we’ve seen so far this year. The simmering passion, coupled with the intensity they both bring to the roles makes Passing one of the year’s most effective two-handers, a work of socially-charged symbiosis that continuously (and without any difficulty) pushes through to become something quite extraordinary.

The filmmaking of Passing is not to be underestimated, since despite working from a legitimately strong text that could’ve easily supported the film on its own, Hall makes sure there is a strong directorial flourish underpinning this film. Undeniably, it could be considered slightly rough around the edges – Hall is a debut filmmaker, and therefore was naturally going to experiment with the form in a way that a more seasoned veteran may have avoided. However, this vaguely experimental way of telling this story, both narratively and visually, contributes massively to the success of the film. It almost seems as if Hall and director of photography Eduard Grau used footage and photographs from this era as their primary source material – not only in the production design and costuming, but merely in how the camera moved and framed its subjects. The film oscillates between long shots and close-ups, the former situating us at a massive distance from the characters, almost as if we’re observers, watching them live their lives from afar, while the latter places us directly across from the characters, piercing their psychological state by allowing us to witness every expression, gesture and wordless movement, which often mean much more than the already stunning dialogue. Hall has a keen eye for detail, and from beginning to end, Passing captures our attention on even the most fundamentally artistic level, each shot being composed with precision and artistic merit that proves that this is one of the more ambitious debuts of recent years. It doesn’t always seem like it has much to say outside of the central discussion on race that propels the film (rather than enveloping it), but as we soon come to understand, its the small details of the friendship between these two women that means the most, and Hall makes sure that she represents with vivacity and authenticity, as much as reasonably possible.

Clearly her prolific career as one of the most interesting actresses working today allowed Hall to acquire a deep understanding of how to put together an astonishing film, her years of both arthouse and mainstream productions leading her to acquire the necessary skills to take on a novel as intimidating as Passing, which receives the adaptation it deserved, which isn’t always the case with titanic works of literature. This is an extremely simple film – it isn’t built so much on a particular story as it is on the existence of a set of moments in the lives of these characters, brief glimpses into their everyday activities on two different ends of the socio-cultural spectrum, which leads to some fascinating discussions on the nature of race in the 1920s, an issue that was not new to that era, and was far from being resolved. Passing is never exploitative in terms of the social commentary, or is it heavy-handed with emotions, which is impressive considering there were many moments where a less-precise film may have taken the opportunity to descend into hysterics, with Hall instead choosing to keep her adaptation as simple and nuanced as she possibly could, which is exactly how one would expect Larsen to want, since the source material is a work of evocative, tenderhearted emotion that never aims to resolve every crisis felt by these characters, but rather to represent two different perspectives that may not be definitive of the entire cultural experience, but are a worthy starting-point for some very deep discussions. It’s a beautiful, poetic film with many ravishing moments and a genuinely insightful sense of direction that makes absolutely every moment effortlessly poignant and meaningful, even when it is just aiming to present a distinct portrait of a particular time and place, which has never looked quite as stunning as it did under the careful direction of one of the most unexpectedly interesting new voices in contemporary cinema.