Few playwrights evoke such passionate discourse and praise when their names are mentioned, with this status being reserved for a select few artists who changed the way theatre functions, either narratively, in form or as a combination of both. August Wilson lived a comparatively short life when we look at it from a distance, but yet in only a couple of decades produced some of the most daring and provocative theatre crafted during the second half of the 20th century, his most significant work being the Pittsburgh Cycle, a collection of ten plays in which each one is set in a different decade during the last century, as part of the writer’s aim to create a set of plays that cover the full extent of the African-American experience as it unfolded over time. His work is complex and engaging, and has been the foundation for many exceptional productions over the years – and it was only a matter of time before his work made its way to the cinema, with the efforts to bring these timeless stories to life on screen being ignited by Denzel Washington, who expressed his ambition intentions to adapt all ten of the plays into films, starting with his directorial effort in Fences (by far Wilson’s most famous play), and then followed by Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, another very strong offering, this time from acclaimed theatre stalwart George C. Wolfe, another proponent of Wilson’s literary legacy. The third and most recent adaptation is The Piano Lesson, another very important entry into this series of plays, here helmed by Malcolm Washington in his directorial debut. Set in the late 1930s, the story follows Boy Willie and Berniece, siblings descended from slaves who find themselves at an impasse when it comes to the topic of a family heirloom, an old wooden piano that dates back to their great-grandfather’s time on a plantation, and which has been passed down to them. Their disagreement comes when Boy Willie insists on selling the dusty piano to purchase the land on which their ancestors were slaves, while Berniece prefers to keep it in the family, realizing that parting with it essentially means erasing the last remaining remnant of their familial past. The tension leads to many shocking revelations, each one proving to be more daunting than the last and unearthing deep, harrowing secrets that everyone agrees should have remained dormant.

While every one of his plays is self-contained and independent, Wilson tended to find common themes between them, which connect each of these works in sometimes fascinating and unconventional ways. Most of this comes in the form of the stories, which are all standalone works, but share common ideas, beyond the subject of race in the United States, which is the obvious element that binds these works together. The Piano Lesson is one of the most provocative of his works, since it addresses slavery directly and without needing to resort to mere allusion. It is set only a few decades into the 20th century, and therefore these characters can speak openly about their close connection with slaves – their ancestors are deceased, but they’re only one or two generations removed from those who came of age on plantations and in the sculleries before the emancipation, which was something that Wilson intended to explore through the guise of looking at the legacy of slavery and how it continues to guide the lives of its descendants, even if they don’t have the firsthand knowledge of their parents and grandparents. As a result, we find that this story is not only about racial conflict, but generational trauma and how it can be a constant reminder of where one comes from. Using a piano as the central motif is extremely powerful – this is an enormous instrument that serves as the focal point of any room in which it sits, but yet it is something that no one in that household wants to see, or at least cannot look at it without being reminded of the suffering that surrounds it. Engraved with the faces of their ancestors, it is more than just an heirloom, it is a record of their past, and using something whose primary purpose is to create beautiful music only complicates each family member’s relationship with this device, which is far more than just a pleasant piece of furniture for their home, but a bulky and unwieldy manifestation of the trauma and heartache that defined their family, and will continue to do the same for those who are bound to follow in future generations.

Wilson’s status as perhaps the greatest arbiter of roles for black actors has made many of his plays rites of passage for both newcomers and veterans, many of which flock to his work in the hopes of being able to portray one of his many incredible characters. The roster of actors who have worked on adaptations of his texts is enormous and impressive in terms of both size and diversity of talent, which is hardly surprising considering how nearly every one of his plays is built around ensembles, and essentially driven by strong, forceful characters that are about as far from archetypes as one can get, which makes them so much richer and more compelling in both theory and execution. The Piano Lesson was recently mounted as a stage production, and much of the original cast returns for the film version, including John David Washington, Samuel L. Jackson and Ray Fisher, all of whom form the foundation of the male ensemble, and deliver spellbinding performances. Washington is an actor who is only as good as the material, especially since he’s still forming his unique acting style, but this film proves that he has inherited his father’s talents enough to convincingly play this complex character. Jackson, who has absolutely nothing to prove, occupies the paternal role of Uncle Doaker, the wise, all-seeing patriarch who doesn’t play an active role in the narrative, but instead lingers as the voice of reason and provider of the historical context that helps us understand the narrative. Danielle Deadwyler is an addition to the cast (replacing Danielle Brooks from the stage production), and her performance as the fiery, steadfast Berniece is some of her best work to date, which is not an easy feat considering she’s quietly amassed a truly impressive body of work. The rest of the ensemble is exceptionally strong, working closely with the text to infuse even the smallest of characters with life, ensuring that none of them are mere stereotypes, and instead function as fully-formed, complex characters.

One of the main criticisms of the previous two entries into this series of adaptations of Wilson’s work is the fact that they were perceived as being quite limited in scope, which is a fate that befalls several stage-to-screen adaptations, particularly those that essentially take place in a single location. Both of the previous films did attempt to expand on the story by setting some scenes outside the primary location, but this ultimately felt more performance than it did creative, which meant that it came across as very restrictive, despite its best efforts. This is a criticism that doesn’t always hold much relevance, since the one area that these films needed to ensure was done correctly was the performances, which we’ve already acknowledged were very good – but it is nonetheless a factor in the overall production. Malcolm Washington had yet to direct a film before The Piano Lesson, and whether it was his decision or that of the producers and writers, this film is a remarkably more open-ended, expansive work that feels like more than simply a filmed version of the stage production. This film has an abundance of unexpected texture, both visually and tonally – the stage production did allude to some degree of paranormal activity, but this film leans into the more unsettling aspects of the narrative and crafts it to resemble a horror film, which was intentional. The spectre of slavery lingers heavily over this film, and it manifests in fascinating ways, creating quite a nuanced and often outright terrifying work, especially in the climactic moments where everything falls apart and these characters are left questioning their sanity and beliefs. It’s a richer, more nuanced adaptation of Wilson’s work that takes the time to create a landscape for itself, rather than just relying on the playwright’s words and the actors’ interpretation of them, which makes an enormous difference and allows The Piano Lesson to be the most visually-compelling, atmospheric works of the recent surge in adaptations, and one that proves to be far more captivating than we would initially expect based on a cursory glance.

The Piano Lesson is a solid, well-crafted voyage back into the past, built on a strong story by one of the greatest playwrights of his generation, anchored by an incredible cast and helmed by someone whose eye for detail and ability to evoke such extraordinary textures and tonal shifts is evidence that he has a strong future behind the camera. This is a strong example of how mastering the small components in such a way that they work together seamlessly can produce incredible results, especially when dealing with something containing such deep, complex themes. Wilson’s legacy continues to be ironclad and bordering on sacrosanct, which is only strengthened by the effort that went into adapting this as more than just a filmed stage production, but instead making some bold directorial choices that are going to linger with the viewer long after the film has ended. Its simplicity is a virtue rather than a flaw, and Washington develops its underlying ideas with such vivid honesty and incredible complexity, that it’s impossible to view it as anything less than a thorough, wholehearted success in both style and structure. It is one of the strongest of Wilson’s plays, and certainly the best of this recent bout of adaptations, so all credit must be given to the director and his cast, who seamlessly craft this engaging, provocative period drama that often plays like a psychological horror, but where the true terror comes not in the flirtations with the supernatural, but rather the memory of the past and the suffering that persisted throughout. Bold and fully in command of all of its themes, The Piano Lesson is an undeniably strong offering and a film that reminds us how some of the most electrifying, captivating filmmaking comes from the most unexpected of sources.