by Jake Bourgeois, Contributing Writer
At its core, Daughters is a film about opposites colliding.
The Sundance documentary darling, picked up by Netflix, follows four Black girls of varying ages as they prepare for a daddy daughter dance with their incarcerated fathers in Washington, D.C.
The Date with Daddy program, started because one girl had the innocence and clarity to suggest it when a classmate said she couldn’t participate in a proposed daddy daughter dance because her dad was in jail. So they brought the dance to him. 10 years after its launch in Richmond, Virginia, the film follows the launch of the program in Washington, D.C., and its aftermath.
The program is heartwarming, and the fact that its value was recognized by those with the power is something to be applauded; but reality means it’s more complex than that. It’s still a prison, and for some, it could be a long time before seeing their daughter becomes the norm, not the exception. It brings to the fore a lot of emotions. For some, it’s the only chance they have to be with their fathers in-person, and the system has largely gotten even more restrictive in recent years, as the film highlights. Even the simple idea of the dance comes with complications, like daughters who haven’t really seen their father in person because of a shift to video visits, and concerns from both sides of what the meeting will be like, and if the other will even recognize them.
Though the dance is at the center of the film, what it’s all building to, I really found the conversation group about fatherhood that the inmates were in, both in the lead-up and the aftermath, to be an informative one. As someone who’s been able to witness and capture things like inmate graduations or internships, it’s programs like that, aimed at bettering the individual and reducing the likelihood of recidivism, that should be the goal at the heart of these institutions. Sure, the dance is about the dance and that opportunity, but it’s also about illustrating why not making the same mistakes and being able to be there for their daughters is so important. Based on the evidence the film presents, it’s overwhelmingly successful at that objective.
Tangentially, though we only get a brief look at it, as it is a film focused on the father-daughter relationship, I did like the ever-so-brief inclusion of the inverse group that connects mothers to a network of other women going through similar struggles.
Getting to spend the time with the titular daughters of wide-ranging ages encapsulates the dual emotions of joy and sadness. As we go along, we largely get snapshots of time filled with both for each of them. The youngest subject sort of steals the show at the beginning with her bubbly personality. However, there’s the other side of the coin, as we’re told she suffers from separation anxiety, and the emotions get more complex as the years go on. Others feel angry or unsure — it’s not a one-size-fits-all experience, and the film demonstrates the full range of feelings they have toward their fathers.
It’s an impressive accomplishment for co-directors Angela Patton and Natalie Rae, made better by the obvious passion they have for sharing this story. Patton actually started the program and Rae reached out after watching a TEDwomen talk. It’s an interesting move to have Patton involved in the director chair, given her role, which allowed the film to have her gain new insight into the process, as she doesn’t get to see the conversation group. Usually, I don’t like having directors involved in the story, because it’s somebody making the choice to insert themselves into the story, by asking a question on camera or something similar. However, I think it completely works for telling this complex story, particularly as she’s paired up with another filmmaker to help bring the project to fruition.
The creative choices really help sell the opposites at play throughout. Powerful discussions are paired with some absolutely beautiful cinematography (Michael Cambio Fernandez), and it’s really interesting how the film is cut. The happiness of some moments is usually jump cut with something sadder. The fun of the dresses the daughters are wearing are cut with waiting around to go through the metal detectors. Nothing hits home the stark contrasts quite like the dance itself. We’re treated to the heartwarming event that seems unfamiliar to any other daddy daughter dance that one might attend in public, intercut with conversations between father and daughter about catching up on life missed and when he might be coming home. There’s the completely normal euphoria of the dance itself, paired with the absolute emotional devastation as the time comes to a close.
However, that’s not where the film closes. After getting a debrief of the complicated emotions from the support group, we get a snapshot of the following years. It’s an interesting move and key to the exploration of the value of the program, more so than just the text on the screen at the end. We still get that, but the coda is key to what we’ve been following to explore the impact of the moment and not in a way that feels tacked on or cheap. It’s another way for the film to emphasize the complexity of the experience of those that we get to know, through both the highs and the lows.
At its core, it’s clear that the Date with Daddy program and the experience at the heart of Daughters is a positive one — both based on the experience itself and its lasting impact. What makes the documentary so powerful, though, is that it doesn’t just stop there. It’s willing to dive into the complexities at play and chronicle not only the highs, but the lows as well. It’s a project that, if not handled as deftly or with such care as this one, could too easily reductively boil the experience down to either extreme on the positive or negative side.
By shining a light on the totality of the experience, it gives the viewer a full, well-rounded depiction that’s well worth the smiles and the tears.
Rating: Loved It
Daughters is currently streaming on Netflix
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