HIDDEN FIGURES: Black Wives Matter

Director: Theodore Melfi
Writers: Allison Schroeder, Theodore Melfi
Cast: Taraji P. Henson, Octavia Spencer, Janelle Monáe, Kevin Costner, Kirsten Dunst, Jim Parsons, Mahershala Ali
Runtime: 127 mins.
2016

Help me walk through a thought experiment here. Let's say that you're, like me, a white man. And let's say that we're off fishing somewhere. If I suddenly said to you, "Well here we are, two white men sitting together fishing in a pond in the year 2017," wouldn't you find it odd and off-putting? What if we were, say, two elderly Hispanic women at a monster truck rally, and I said, "Look at us--two old Hispanic ladies in the twenty-first century attending a monster truck rally in our free time," wouldn't that feel like a strange thing to say? Apparently Allison Schroeder and Theodore Melfi, the screenwriters of Hidden Figures, do not think so, as this is their primary method for delivering exposition. Characters stare each other dead in the eyes and verbalize the traits of their relationship, as if trying to evoke a personality into existence. It would be a hammy method of characterization in an improv scene, and I would hope that Schroeder and Melfi spent more time thinking about these lines than improvisers can.


Then there's the scene about 75% through the movie in which one experienced NASA mathematician explains to an entire room of other experienced NASA mathematicians the basic principles of gravitational orbit simply because it is about to become pertinent to the plot. I understand that you gotta do what you gotta do to make the stakes clear, but I also understand that you're treating your audience like babies and your characters like babies.

The writing is bad beyond just the exposition problem. The structure alone cripples the experience. The seams start to show around the half hour mark, when the scope of the film expands beyond the purview of NASA into the personal lives of the three main characters. Threads are introduced that aren't particularly relevant to anything, and entire subplots seem to exist for no other reason than "this happened in real life," which is the absolute worst logic you can bring to an artistic adaptation. The most egregious of these is the shoehorned romantic subplot between Katherine (Taraji P. Henson) and Colonel Jim Johnson (Mahershala Ali), an actor who lends immeasurable depth to his character in Moonlight, but is dull and worthless here. This particular subplot adds no worth to the central story of the film, and perhaps even detracts from Katherine's standing as a feminist icon. That's not to say feminist icons can't have romantic relationships with men--but as portrayed in Hidden Figures, this relationship has no more complexity than "aw shucks gee whiz this lady really needs to get herself a man."

Also unforgivable is that the stories of the other two of the three main characters are sidelined such that they also become pointless subplots. The women all end up working in separate branches of NASA, at which point it becomes clear that the Story is all about Katherine, with Dorothy (Octavia Spencer) and Mary (Janelle Monáe) providing occasional moments of distraction.

The dialogue doesn't serve to remedy the poor structure either. There are a few good feel good lines, but it's mostly terrible exposition and trite sentiments about how people ought not be racist. There's also a heaping helping of awful attempts at period African American dialect, which is unsurprising considering the writers of this movie about racism are both very white folks. I can't count how many times the characters in this movie are "fixin" to do something or other.

Then there's the laughable attempt to write the way career mathematicians might speak. This manifests mostly in references to Numbers. As in, You should take a look at her Numbers, they're incredible. Or, She has the best Numbers I've ever seen. Or, I've run these Numbers through the machine twice and they don't match. We need someone to check these Numbers.

The real tragedy of Hidden Figures is that it's the kind of movie you so desperately want to be better. It's a biopic about three black women who had to surmount the titanic barriers of both racism and sexism in order to do some of the most crucial work in the history of NASA. The source material is flat out incredible, and the writers whiffed hard when they put it to page as a meandering narrative that chugs toward a cliched, overdone climax.

But it isn't just the writing that lets Hidden Figures down. The cinematography by Mandy Walker is aggressively mediocre. Again, this is a shame because Hollywood cinematography is even more of a boys' club than, say, the director's chair. The film is flush with uninspired medium shots that refuse to direct our attention to any sort of emotional truth or gestures of humanity. Peter Teschner's editing is similarly sterile. The pacing flabby, with every other scene reasserting the same points in the same way. Then there are the meaningless fluff cuts that somehow made their way into the film. The one that sticks with me like a sore thumb is a phone call between Al Harrison (Kevin Costner), the NASA boss, and John Glenn (Glen Powell), the insufferable caricature of the famous astronaut. After their phone call is finished, we get a shot of Harrison saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. Then we also get a shot of Glenn hanging up the phone that is not long enough to feature any sort of emotional beat. So that final shot of the scene exists purely to ensure we know that after Harrison says goodbye and hangs up the phone, Glen also hangs up the phone on his end. In other words, pointless information. It sounds like a small thing, but that's an editor's job--to give us the most pertinent information in the most economical way.

Another moment in particular grabbed me. Katherine is invited to a meeting of NASA bigwigs--a place women and people of color typically do not go. Not only does she attend, she steals the show with her Numbers. As she is demonstrating her proficiency by filling a chalkboard with calculations, she accidentally transposes two Numbers, and without skipping a beat she goes back and scratches the correct Number over top the incorrect one. This immediately became my favorite moment in the film. It is endearing and human. We've all had math teachers who are too in the zone to erase their mistakes.

After the cutaway, the very next shot of the chalkboard has no sign of this imperfection. The Numbers are all pristine, flawless. Not only is this a continuity error, which I honestly don't care about. This is an erasure of the one moment of true humanity I found in the film, a sign that the director is simply not paying attention.

In the end, that's my main issue with Hidden Figures--in groping aggressively for praiseworthy humanism, it lacks humanity.

After our screening of the film, a friend and I were walking through Philadelphia airing our grievances when he brought up a critical-ethical question I've thought a lot about: Are we bad people for crapping all over this movie? If a film has a good heart, and does net good in the world, but has terrible execution, are we justified in our criticism? After all, it was clear that a great many of the other folks in the auditorium liked the movie a whole lot. Who could begrudge them that?

My first response is that, ultimately, criticism is opinion wreathed in structure and argument. For that reason, I might try to convince you of my point of view regarding quality and execution, but no critic should ever suggest that another person not enjoy the art that they enjoy.

My second response concerns Hidden Figures specifically. Namely, I am not entirely convinced that this movie does net good in the world. Hidden Figures is the breeziest movie about racism I've ever seen. It's not challenging. It is crafted to please crowds and to make audiences feel good. When career white savior Kevin Costner tears down the Colored sign in front of the women's restroom, does that cause anybody to think critically about race relations? No. It makes the white folks in the audience feel good and secure that fifty years ago, they would have done the same thing. When characters espouse sentiments about how they ought not be discriminated against, is that going to make anybody reflect on their own habits of discrimination? Hell no. In a lot of ways, Hidden Figures represents the most insidious form of racial placation. These three main characters watch racial barriers politely melt away simply because they are incredibly good at their jobs, and charismatic, and beautiful, and well-spoken. That's the American Dream in its most ideal form, and it sends the message that black folks wouldn't have to put up with so much racism if they simply applied themselves. Then, and only then, would it be in their white boss's best interest to look kindly upon them.

Hidden Figures is not breaking down barriers. It's easily digestible Oscar bait. Audiences will sit down to enjoy this movie, and they will leave thinking, Of course racism is bad, as they vote for an explicitly xenophobic political candidate. Of course racism is bad, as they perpetuate rumors of voter fraud that will lead to the disenfranchisement of people of color. Of course racism is bad, as they sport their Blue Lives Matter bumper stickers. I'm a good person, because I believe that of course racism is bad.

My apologies to the cast of Hidden Figures, who are legitimately talented and do the best they can with the garbage material that they are given. But then, that's the perpetual story of women and people of color in America: doing the best they can with the garbage material that they are given, forever and ever Amen.

0.5 / 5  BLOBS