Mudbound

Mudbound starts in, middles in, and ends in the mud. The motif runs consistently throughout the film and doesn’t feel gimmicky at all. Mud works so well in Mudbound because it represents a middle ground, a gray area. Everything isn’t black and white, literally.

Mudbound tells the story of a white family and a black family trying to survive during and after World War II on the same piece of land in Mississippi. Expertly directed by Dee Rees, it tells a familiar story of racism and oppression that also feels new and different. This for a few reasons. One, it is a time period that normally isn’t explored in film, much less in films about racial tension. The time right after the war is seldom touched on but used effectively here. Two, the movie really relies on the interactions between characters and this is the emotional core of the story. That said, one fault of the film that is really only a small issue is that characters fit right into molds of good white guy, bad white guy, good black guy, angry black guy. One of the few characters that doesn’t fit a mold and is all the better for it is Mary J. Blige’s Florence, the mother of the black family. She isn’t a stereotype and works for love because, as she puts it, love is a kind of survival. Mudbound, based off a novel, uses narration very well. The voices of all the characters blend together in interesting and sympathetic ways. The third quarter of the film drags slightly, and this is due to the lack of narration there. Buoyed by strong performances, particularly Blige, Garrett Hedlund, Carey Mulligan, and Jason Mitchell, Mudbound transcends stereotypes and cliches to become a creation of the earth.

{★★★☆}