‘Passing’: Rebecca Hall’s Bold Directorial Debut Tackles Race and Sexuality in 1920s New York [Review]

Rebecca Hall’s directorial debut, “Passing,” is an adaptation of Nella Larsen’s 1929 novel of the same name. It’s a ballsy first film, a black and white melodrama that relies more on the hidden truths of its characters than any kind of formal plot. The motives of every character in this film can be questioned.

It's 1929, and mixed-race Irene (Tessa Thompson) only occasionally “passes” for white, but when she does, it’s for the purpose of doing essential errands, such as getting a cab or shopping in downtown New York City— it’s just easier that way and she gets fewer looks. Using her sun hat to hide beneath her brown eyes, it’s not something she likes to do, but it gets the job done, when needed be.

The steaming heat of a New York summer forces her to enter an air-conditioned hotel where she will grab iced tea as a refresher. Once seated, she recognizes a long-estranged friend, Clare (Ruth Negga). Clare also passes for white, but, unlike Irene, she does it all the time, and in fact, she is married to a very racist white man, John (Alexander Skarsgård), who’s completely oblivious to her Black background. This rubs Irene the wrong way and she quickly says her goodbyes, exiting the hotel when John utters a highly vulgar term to describe his distaste for black people.

Clare is married to Brian (André Holland), a dark-skinned doctor who can’t pass, even if he tried. They live with their two close-to-teenage sons in a spritzy Harlem two-flat home. They are what you might call well-off in life, living very comfortably; one would even go as far as to say they veer close to the realm of upper-classdom.

Despite both Irene and Clare seeming happily married, they may need each other in more ways than one. The blonde-haired Clare does like the coziness of her “passing” white life, until we watch her, quite subtly, attempting to regain her former blackness. Clare yearns to re-enter Irene’s life, desperately, might I add — seeing her former friend again reawakens a desire to go back to her black roots.

The random encounter between Irene and Clare sets off a stirring chain of events that turns Hall’s film into one filled with racial, and sexual undertones. There’s an ambiguity to Clare that comes off in fascinating ways to the viewer. We don’t fully know what she wants to accomplish by so desperately attempting to reintegrate herself into Clare’s life. Hell, at the start, just days after their off-chance meeting at the hotel, she writes a letter to Clare, which the the latter completely and purposely ignores, only to find Irene knocking at her door just days later, asking why she didn’t respond.

A past lesbian affair is hinted at between the two. Despite her melancholic facade, maybe being married to a racist husband, who jokingly calls her “nig” due to her tanned skin, isn’t the satisfying life Clare claims it to be. We’re left wondering what does Clare want to achieve by starting to flirt with not just Irene, but Brian as well.

The erotic yearning between Clare and Irene, the possibility that Brian and Clare may be having an affair, the unsatisfactory marriage between Irene and Brian, are all hinted at, but never fully tackled — and maybe those were Hall’s intentions, to leave that ambiguity as is.

Regardless, the tech aspects in “Passing” are second-to-none, especially the heavenly, minimalist piano score and Eduard Grau’s beautiful, albeit, digitally crisp, black-and-white photography, presented in boxy 4:3 aspect ratio with an abundance of medium shots. Grau plays with the skin color of the lead actresses; less shadow on Clare, the reverse on Irene.

Hall surprises in her directing debut. The amount of calm and restraint she brings to the filmmaking feels like that of a seasoned vet. The psychological nuance in her film fascinates in the way each character slowly reveals his or herself with every gesture and every decision they make. Hall builds an unadorned amount of tension here, calculatingly testing the viewer’s anticipatory patience and eviscerating our emotions in the film’s shockingly unexpected climax.

For all of Hall’s ambitions, there is so much to be said here with so little time. The film runs at an-all-too-brief 90 minutes, which makes this more of a snapshot than any kind of deep dive of the era. Alas, the power of “Passing” does get enhanced with repeat viewings. I’ve already seen it twice and look forward to my third round. [B+]