Adapting a stage play for the silver screen poses many challenges for filmmakers to overcome, and none more so than ensuring the cinematic endeavour veers away from any stilted sense of intimacy, and thrive in this new medium, enlarged without contrivance, while maintaining its thematic and visceral core. Now, Denzel Washington’s Fences, which sees the actor take his seat in the director’s chair for the third time in his illustrious career, feels like a play, the entire way through proceedings. But such is the richness to the dialogue, and breathtaking performances from those it belongs to, it doesn’t really matter one iota.
It’s based upon August Wilson’s celebrated 1987 production, which also sees the playwright on screenwriting duty. Washington too is reprising his role, having played Troy back in 2010, a churlish, uncompromising father, who is struggling to adapt and conform to a changing American landscape in 1957 – resentful of his own segregated, suffocating upbringing and reluctant to see a different path for his son Cory (Jovan Adepo) other than the one he followed himself. His doting, forbearing wife Rose (Viola Davis) is somewhat more sympathetic to her son’s ambitions to be a professional football player, which causes a friction in their household, which is also strained with the regular visitations made by Troy’s other son from a past relationship, the fledging musician Lyons (Russell Hornsby), and also Troy’s brother Gabriel (Mykelti Williamson) – who has a metal plate in his head following his time spent during the war, leaving him in need of special assistance.
Though somewhat lacking in narrative, Fences is not vying to tell a complex, linear story we’re used to seeing, it’s a portrait of this man’s life, and though conversations he has with his family, and with best – and only – friend Bono (Stephen Henderson), it works as a catalyst to peer into a specific period and society, studiously lingering over the notion of race relations, and the evolving culture of African-Americans. The film also works as a exploration of parenting, and in this case, the protagonist’s somewhat flawed, stubborn approach.
Given this is based on a stage play, naturally this film is fundamentally about speech, and the dialogue is beautifully crafted and rhythmically delivered, with a collection of quite remarkable monologues, and indelible two-handers. You could argue that the pace and eloquence to the dialogue is detrimental, for we veer carelessly away from realism for people generally do not converse in quite such an articular manner – but it’s so well-written, it barely gets in the way. Cinema requires a suspension of disbelief, after all – and when doing so, there’s so much to admire about this production.
To have such a flawed character at the core of proceedings is intriguing too, though it’s essential we also see his good side, and he’s a charismatic individual, and when the stories start flowing he’s the only thing in the room (well, garden in this case). But his anger can be triggered at the slightest semblance of a conversation that may rile him up. It’s a fascinating age to examine too, as we so often capture those in their late 20s having to come to terms with independence, and maturity, caught somewhere between their youth and actual adulthood. But the age of Troy, in his 50s, is one seldom examined, for that too requires another step, to start adapting to not necessarily being the man of the house, less physically strong than he used, sometimes with less dignity.
Washington naturally shines in the lead role, and all of the supporting cast follow suit, without a bad performance among them. Davis in particularly is stunning, and she plays a nuanced role that requires a similar expression that she perfected in Doubt, of somebody stripped of their self-worth, but fighting through their pride, and she does this with a mere look that is unteachable. Talking of which, the conviction of Washington’s performance is unsurprisingly spellbinding, though there does remain a very slight shade of cynicism that this role is just a vehicle for him to show off his talent. But then when attempting to think of another actor who could pull this off in quite the same way he manages, you’re left thinking only of Denzel – so it’s hard to argue against it. On a more negative note, however, the lapses in time are not quite patent enough, but if that’s the main criticism of a movie then you must be sitting on something rather impressive.
