Just look at the list of foundations and individuals who’ve put money into Ava DuVernay’s didactic explanation of caste versus racism: Melinda French Gates, the Ford Foundation, the MacArthur Foundation, Laurene Powell Jobs, Agnes Gund…. It’s a rollcall of individuals and organizations worthily putting their dough into equitable society projects, so it makes sense they’d help to bankroll Origin given that DuVernay has become cinema’s popular voice of social justice, tackling issues with a flair for drama aimed at mainstream audiences. Selma was a powerful look at a chapter of the civil rights movement, When They See Us an effectively dramatized account of the Central Park Five case, and now Origin, which turns the 2020 nonfiction bestseller Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents into a “Eureka!” fictionalization of Isabel Wilkerson’s work situating the global basis for inequality in the caste system.
Like the book, it brings together the legacy of slavery in the U.S., Nazi persecution of Jews, and the dehumanizing of the Dalits in India to argue that it’s not race that determines the toxic hierarchy of humanity but institutionalized caste systems designed to ensure one group always stays on top. Turning this into a film would have been a challenge for anyone, and while DuVernay, who also wrote the script, is at her best with the emotional bonds of family, her tendency to overexplain is particularly problematic when it treats both characters and viewers like children. Simplifying a thought-provoking argument can generally sway good-hearted people wanting to feel good about their righteousness, and given the film’s topic plus DuVernay’s high-ranking spot in media conversations, Origin will get enormous attention in the U.S. from its berths in Venice and Toronto.
To say that the film covers a lot of ground would be an understatement. Former journalist Isabel Wilkerson (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor) is a valued keynote speaker after her Pulitzer-prize winning book The Warmth of Other Suns, but she’s looking for another project rather than occasional commissioned articles like the piece Amari Selvan (Blair Underwood) wants her to write about Trayvon Martin (Myles Frost) and his murder. She’s OK not knowing what comes next because she’s happy spending time with husband Brett (Jon Bernthal) and her mother Ruby (Emily Yancy), who moves herself into an assisted care facility so as not to bother anyone. Isabel and Ruby represent generations that think differently about how to live your life as an African-American: Ruby believes in keeping your head low because being inconspicuous is a form of protection (though there’s no guarantee), whereas Isabel can’t accept behaving in a manner designed to appease white people.
Trayvon Martin’s murder got her thinking about how the designation “racism” is used to explain all inequities, but she doesn’t take it further until she faces a terrible year in which both her husband and mother die, leaving her in desperate need of a focus. She’s already been making mental notes about how Jim Crow laws can be seen in relation to Nazi-era anti-Semitism and the Dalit structure in India, so she sets out on an international research trip to formulate how it’s caste, rather than race, that’s the true determinant of institutionalized prejudice.
The first stop is Berlin, where she’s lectured at a dinner party by bossy Sabine (Connie Nielsen) who argues that subjugation, as in black slaves in the U.S., is not the same as extermination, as in the Shoah. While not the only cringingly didactic scene in the film, its obvious placement in the story as a helpful marker for Isabel’s intellectual development is handled without an ounce of subtlety. Even worse is when she attends a family reunion back home and has to explain her theory in layman’s terms to her unintellectual cousin Marion (Niecy Nash-Betts), who speaks in more down-home language than her relative. It’s not just that DuVernay treats the audience like junior high students, but she disrespects Marion by not treating her as Isabel’s equal, coding her as less brainy by her use of breezy black vernacular expressions.
Next stop is India and a meeting with Suraj Yengde (playing himself and also listed as co-executive producer), explaining the caste system, the “untouchables,” and the role Bhimrao Ramji Ambedkar played in giving hope to Dalits trapped on the lowest rung of society. Through all this, Isabel comes to understand that prejudice needs to be considered independent from race, since race doesn’t always matter for the system of subjugation to work.
DuVernay weaves various historical reenactments through the main story, starting with Nazi party member August (Finn Wittrock), who falls in love with Jewish Irma (Victoria Pedretti). Then comes African-American students Allison and Elizabeth Davis (Isha Carlos Blaaker and Jasmine Cephas Jones), studying in Berlin in 1933, who try to borrow a book by Erich Maria Remarque from the library and are shocked to discover that Nazi Germany isn’t the most welcoming place for them – they really didn’t know what was happening? Back in the States, the Davises join forces with Burleigh and Mary Gardner (Matthew Zuk and Hannah Pniewski) to study the anthropology of caste and class in Natchez, Mississippi. The scenes in Nazi Germany resemble History Channel recreations but with a vastly superior budget, indistinguishable from hundreds of similarly set sequences, while the Natchez section is painted with an equally thick brush.
Two elements however that get to the heart of DuVernay’s talents are the Trayvon Martin scenes and a powerful story at the end, about nine-year-old Al Bright (Lennox Simms), told he can’t join his white Little League teammates in the pool because he’ll contaminate the water. It’s a heart-wrenching moment that doesn’t pander to start the tear ducts flowing, reminding us that simplistic preaching isn’t necessary to get the message across.
In general DuVernay excels in directing her principal actors, capturing the warmth of Isabel’s relationships with Brett, Ruth and Marion, foregrounding their intimacy through big closeups so we feel a genuine connection and are invested in their bonds. Less welcome yet equally a hallmark of her style is the use of sentimental orchestrations that anticipate dramatic tension and manipulatively push the emotions when the story should be capable of doing that on its own.
Director: Ava DuVernay
Screenplay: Ava DuVernay, inspired by Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson
Cast: Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Jon Bernthal, Niecy Nash-Betts, Emily Yancy, Blair Underwood, Nick Offerman, Vera Farmiga, Audra McDonald, Connie Nielsen, Finn Wittrock, Jasmine Cephas Jones, Victoria Pedretti, Isha Carlos Blaaker, Stephanie March, Myles Frost, Suraj Yengde, Donna Mills, Franz Hartwig, Matthew Zuk, Hannah Pniewski, Lennox Simms
Producers: Paul Garnes, Ava DuVernay
Executive producers: Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Tilane Jones, Regina Miller, Laurene Powell Jobs, Melinda French Gates, Anne E. Wojcicki
Co-executive producers: Suraj Yengde, Matthew J. Lloyd, Cheryl A. Miller, Thane Watkins
Co-producer: Mike “Spike” Topoozian
Cinematography: Matthew J. Lloyd
Production designer: Ina Mayhew
Costume designer: Dominique Dawson
Editing: Spencer Averick
Music: Kris Bowers
Sound: Willie Burton
Production companies: ARRAY Filmworks Production (USA), in association with Ford Foundation, Emerson Collective, Pivotal Ventures, Anne Wojcicki Foundation
World sales: Neon
Venue: Venice (competition); Toronto (Gala)
In English, German
139 minutes