by Cris Mora-Villa, Contributing Writer

Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents is a nonfiction book penned by Isabel Wilkerson that was published in the summer of 2020. That time period was certainly incongruous for many. It was during the early stages of said time period that the final touches were being worked on for Caste.The first traces of the idea for the book began in the early 2010s following Wilkerson’s previously acclaimed work, The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration. That project, from what I can surmise, does overlap on some of the same topics that are discussed in Caste, with regards to racial segregation within the United States. Where the two begin to differ is in their primary subject matter. While I’m definitely by no means an expert on either book, there’s zero doubt in my mind that the level of investment Wilkerson pours into her work carries a weight bordering on the indescribable. My earnest belief in that comes straight from what’s being presented in the film Origin,directed by Ava DuVernay. I have a rather limited history with DuVernay’s filmography, but that certainly won’t be the case much longer if this movie is anything to go off of.

From the words of one writer directly into the hands of an auteur, it makes all the sense in the world why Wilkerson’s book would appeal to Ava’s sensibility as a filmmaker. However you may feel about her individual works within her filmography overall, it cannot be denied her choices going back at least 10 years are approached with a determination that is as steadfast as it is prescient. Whether it’s the miniseries, When They See Us,or the documentary, 16th, DuVernay isn’t afraid to delve into such vast territory dealing directly with race dynamics. What’s different about Origin is it’s vastly different approach from those other works. From the first few minutes of the picture, I had an underlying sense that DuVernay was operating on a whole new wavelength dissimilar from anything I had seen before. It wasn’t just the foreboding presence of the opening scene, or the gritty aesthetic that pervades the film, but in fact the spiritual sentimentality which is as evident as it is necessary for this particular story.

A kind of hot take I’ve long believed about movies in general is just how misplaced an insistence for realism actually is. I don’t mean that in such a way so as to lessen the merit for groundedly told stories, but rather to bring home a separate point. Movies are not representations of reality. They are cinematic constructs born out of an artistic vision to service whatever their conceived endgame may be. Despite how pretentious this sentiment may sound, films are a language entirely of their own kind. For whatever the story is that happens to be told, they simply cannot be boiled down to an exact science. To evaluate movies strictly by the laws and principles that we come to know as truth and accuracy would be missing the forest for the trees. Genre convention plays a factor into this as well, given documentaries are naturally exempt by definition. When it comes to biographical projects in particular, that’s where my critique is most frequently found. DuVernay is no stranger to this “based on a true story” genre; she almost specializes in it nowadays. A movie like Selma is an exception to the rule, given that’s a film which has such notions of verity ingrained within its DNA. Screenwriter Paul Webb veered towards adhering to the real world accounts of the Civil Rights Movement so faithfully when writing that script, that the viewers’ lasting takeaway for emotional gratification can only be found in the honesty stemming from the film’s historical resonance, as opposed to any technical achievements or metaphorical arcs. While some similarities are shared, Origin doesn’t devolve into being an overly accurate representation on the making of this book. It instead tackles the realism of a biographical story with a bit of a twist, much to the film’s benefit.

In her first directorial feature since A Wrinkle In Time, DuVernay returns to the silver screen with an unorthodox adaptation of Wilkerson’s book. I use the term “unorthodox” rather loosely, as there’s not any one particular way to even describe what’s displayed on screen. For the sake of being a bit cliché, it must be seen to be believed. This was also the first narrative feature film since 2012 to be penned by DuVernay. I point that out because I find it to be a testament to how much Wilkerson’s book must have spoken to DuVernay on a foundational level. I can’t attest to the specifics of the book, having not read Caste, but the movie does well in speaking for what lies at the heart of its text. With DuVernay at the helm, she tasks herself with two central goals. The first is to convey to the audience a clear understanding of what Caste is, along with the ideas comprising it at its core. The second is to form an equally concrete connection between the viewer and Wilkerson by examining her own personal life during the lengthy writing process of Caste. When the central thesis for Caste is as expansively rich as it ends up becoming, finding the right balance between these two goals is much more difficult than it may sound. In the capable hands of DuVernay, however, any chance of a disconnect is virtually nonexistent, which in turn gives the picture an identity that feels wholly unique.

At the intersection of a standard biopic and an outside the box art film, Origin is not shy about using certain components from other works. In regards to DuVernay herself, her history as a documentarian comes in handy for the numerous historical vignettes which pop up throughout the movie. From the inception of Third Reich Germany to Partition-Era India, each trip into the past offers a glimpse to a moment in time that could easily stand on its own as a narrative. What these sparse inclusions add to the picture is an elevated understanding of the history it’s pulling from, something which is essential to the movie’s mission. The integration of such hefty material simply highlights instances that hold up the pillars of Wilkerson’s dissertation. There is also no point where any of it comes off as disingenuous or lacking in taste. The movie certainly has a harshness to some of these scenes, but DuVernay balances that out with the film’s mood. There’s a melancholic smoothness not only stitched within the narrative, but living within Wilkerson herself. To that point, it’s certainly worth acknowledging Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor’s contributions in the lead role.

Throughout the span of film history, there have been countless great performances. As is the case every year for me, only a select few performances are able to achieve a standard that I’d bestow as truly exceptional. Ellis is certainly one of them for what she is able to do in Origin. Despite being an accomplished author, Wilkerson herself isn’t exactly a widely-known public figure. With that being the case, it virtually eliminates any notion that Ellis is servicing an imitation of Wilkerson. It’s fair to assume that because she’s still alive, Wilkerson would have definitely consulted on the picture with both Ellis and DuVernay. I do get the impression that while that would have added enormously to the final product, Ellis certainly brought much of herself to the role. With the amount of talent and experience Ellis has under her belt, she uses every ounce to make her depiction of Wilkerson feel so human. The obstacles which lord over Wilkerson as they are shown in this movie bring with them such an immense amount of grief to her personal life. Following the passing of both her mother, Ruby Wilkerson (Emily Yancy), and her husband, Brett Hamilton, (Jon Bernthal) Wilkerson is left to bear the weight of those losses. As far as how Ellis chooses to portray her in the aftermath of those events, any attempts to be ostentatious are disregarded in favor of a more tender approach. Akin to how Caste was the key for Wilkerson the person, subtlety is the key for Wilkerson the character. From there, the only path forward was through one specific artistic endeavor. It was on that path where her journey of self-discovery could begin towards contentment. With that being said, there is one other personal reason I have for why her performance rang as true as it did for me. There’s a certain barrier I have separating the really good performances from the all-time greats. Performances under the “really good” category usually consist of actors who are subjectively doing very compelling work, while still feeling like they’re “acting.” When someone is giving a performance, I don’t wish to see them just act. What I’m looking for in a truly phenomenal performance is to feel someone ripping themselves open to find the essence of their character. Ellis falls into the latter.

With that said, there is one more discussion point to discuss: That would be the links Origin shares with two separate 2023 films and what their lasting message is as a collective. There are a lot of interesting ideas within Origin about grappling with the meaning of loss and how, in the case of Wilkerson, it helped give way to the creation of an intimately personal text. For as overly sentimental some may find the movie to be, a lot of those moments moved me greatly. One of the reasons for that was the reveal of an additional hidden context which I did not anticipate. Throughout her dogged research journey in the film, it was Wilkerson’s excursion to Germany which set off the alarm in my head. Two vastly different, but also spiritually aligned, 2023 movies I had recently seen were Occupied City and The Zone of Interestdirected by Steve McQueen and Jonathan Glazer respectively. While this is not a review of those films, the context for how they correlate to Origin cannot be brushed aside. 

In the preceding weeks prior to having seen Origin, my screenings of the two aforementioned films certainly left a lasting impression on me. As an austere war drama, The Zone of Interest to put it simply is a gut-wrenching observation on the complicity of others in the vein of achieving prosperity. Occupied City, on the other hand, uses its expansive runtime to unveil a lifetime of lost or unsung stories about the city of Amsterdam throughout the Nazi regime. There’s certainly a historical through line which ties the films together, but I choose to believe something larger is at play. On a pure cinematic level, traditional story structure gets largely thrown out the window in favor of a more avant-garde style, which allows a more freewheeling sense of pace within each picture. These films’ plots aren’t all that complex either, especially when compared to other contemporary features in recent years. The best reason I can presume that to be the case is none of these filmmakers have that as their primary concern. Instead, what I feel that may actually be is simply for McQueen, DuVernay, and Glazer are able to tell the story in their own esoteric way using a unique sense of visual imagery and adept technical proficiency. I think that’s worth respecting.

I would like to leave on a little insight on what I received from this trio of movies beyond cinematic convention. We’re at a point in time where the world at large just continues to grow more and more unstable across multiple fronts. The average person such as myself simply exists within the cultural malaise of white noise, compounding on itself ad infinitum. In short, it’s really easy nowadays to be a cynic. To not only not care about the wellbeing of others, but to actively participate in their oppression. To decide that notions of decency or empathy for the common man aren’t worth ascribing to in favor of whatever is deemed a more favorable reward. I like to see movies as both an escape and a therapeutic pastime from these aforementioned issues. It’s provided several avenues to explore ideas and worlds I otherwise wouldn’t be as privy to. The Zone of Interest, Occupied City,and especially Origin did that for me. Glazer reckons the past through the eyes of a family aiming for a brighter future, all the while investing in a horrid reality whose sheer power is too much to allow for a moment of silence. McQueen patiently recollects the memories of a time layered with mass suffering, but also highlights these miraculous moments which have endured to create a vibrant on screen setting antithetical to its past. DuVernay shares with the audience a philosophical perspective that goes beyond the austerity of racism, but never abandons the sensitive journey of a woman’s grief. Across all of these films, the past and future run parallel to each other, with time itself rendered limitless. From that end, everything in Origin gains a soulful quality that can’t help but to just make you feel something. It might just even make you hope for something.

Rating: Loved It

Origin is currently playing in theaters