Thomas Sadoski | Through the Shattered Lens

Femi Jackson (Brandon Victor Dixon) is a recovering alcoholic with a pregnant wife and a past-due mortgage who totally and completely believes in a presidential candidate named Harold Roundtree (Orlando Jones). A former baker-turned-politician, Roundtree is running for the 2024 Democratic presidential nomination on a platform of small government and personal responsibility. That really doesn’t sound like a platform for success in a Democratic primary but whatever. Let’s just go with it.

Femi has been hired as financial director for a SuperPAC that is raising money for the Roundtree campaign. Femi notices that many of the donations are being submitted in numbers that add up to 88. When he takes this news to his friend Ira Goldstein (Thomas Sadoski), Ira reveals that 88 is a code that Neo-Nazis use to identify each other. Femi and Ira do more digging and they discover that, throughout his entire life, Roundtree has been receiving financial aide from various rich men, all of whom sent Roundtree’s sums of money that all add up to 88. Femi questions why Neo-Nazis would do something that makes it so easy to identify them. Ira replies that they’re marking their territory.

While Howard Roundtree records an interview with a left-wing commentator (William Fichtner), Femi tracks down and meets with an elderly and repentant Neo-Nazi (Jonathan Weir), who now needs an oxygen tank to breathe and who lives in an isolated house with his black wife. Femi is later approached by a volunteer in the SuperPAC’s office, who informs him that the only way that White Supremacy can survive is by latching onto a black politician like Harold Roundtree. Femi and Ira prepare to meet with Rountree, with Femi still convinced that he has no idea who is secretly funding his campaign.

While this is going on, Femi’s wife (Naturi Naughton) tries to help an ex-con achieve a bank loan despite the opposition of her sister (who also works for the bank) while Femi’s son, Ola (Jeremiah King), gets in trouble at school for showing his classmates a video of a school shooting. It turns out that Femi’s brother-in-law is not only a cop but he’s also white and he agrees to drive Ola to school so that Ola can see that not all cops are bad. Ola’s obvious fear as he walks out to the squad car indicates that the experiment, no matter how well-intentioned, is probably not going to work.

88 is certainly an ambitious film and the opening minutes, which features Femi’s wife explaining why Black Panther is not the empowering and progressive film that Femi believes it to be, suggest that the film has the potential to be interesting. And throughout the film, there are little moments that do work, like the scene where Femi tells his son how to react if he’s ever pulled over by a cop. Unfortunately, the majority of the film is a clumsily-acted and talky mix of melodrama and heavy-messaging, one that tries to duplicate the style of Spike Lee’s agitprop but instead ends up feeling more like a secular and politically progressive version of the God’s Not Dead films than anything else. The film drags on for 2 full hours with Brandon Victor Dixon’s nerdy blandness failing to provide the narrative momentum to keep the action interesting. As well, Orlando Jones is perhaps the least convincing presidential front runner that I’ve ever seen in a film, speaking a cadences that appear to be specifically patterned on Barack Obama but suggesting none of the charisma that would be necessary to captivate a nation. Again, the film deserves some praise for having the ambition to actually be about something more than just selling toys and comic books but, in the end, it’s earnest dullness and heavy-handed messaging fails to hold one’s attention.

Previous Icarus Files:

Wild opens with Cheryl Strayed (played by Reese Witherspoon) standing on the edge of a cliff. She has been hiking for days and, because her hiking boots are too small, she’s limping and in a great deal of pain. She takes off a boot and a sock and stares at her bloody big toe. With trembling fingers, she removes what is left of her big toenail. And then, she throws her boot over the edge of the cliff while screaming, “FUCK YOU!”

And, from that moment, Wild had me.

For the next two hours, I sat there and I was absolutely enthralled as Cheryl, an aspiring writer and a recovering drug addict who was still struggling to come to terms with the death of her mother (played, in heart-breaking flashbacks, by Laura Dern), hiked her way from the Mexican border up to the Canadian border. I watched as she learned how to survive in the wilderness, how she cautiously learned to trust some of her fellow hikers, and as she dealt with sexist rangers and creepy hunters.

And there were a lot of reasons why Wild held me so enthralled. There was Reese Witherspoon’s performance, for one thing. Reese is on screen during every minute of Wild and, for a lot of that time, she’s alone with her thoughts and her emotions. She gives an amazingly focused performance, one that should regain her some of the respect that she sacrificed by appearing in movies like This Means War and publicly asking, “Do you know who I am?” Both the film and Reese’s performance resist the temptation to idealize Cheryl. Instead, both the film and the performance feel real and because Cheryl comes across as a real person (flaws and all), it makes her journey and her achievement all the more powerful.

I couldn’t help but relate to Cheryl. Like her, I’m an aspiring writer. Like her, I’m still learning how to deal with the loss of my mom. Like her, I have trust issues. Like her, I am sometimes too stubborn for my own good. Like her, I like to leave quotes in guest books. Like her, I always pack a few paperbacks before I go on a trip and I like to write in my journal. Like Cheryl, I’m a survivor and I’m proud of it.

Unlike Cheryl, however, I’ve never gone hiking and I doubt if I ever will. As much as I loved Wild (and it’s definitely one of my favorite films of 2014), it didn’t leave me with any great desire to go on a hike. That’s largely because of that first scene. When Cheryl threw away her boots and screamed, I thought to myself, “That would so be me.” Of course, the difference is that Cheryl did that after hiking for a month. I would probably end up doing that after the 2nd day. And then I’d turn around, go back home, and spend the weekend watching Netflix.

But here’s the thing: Wild is not really about hiking. Wild is about the journey. What’s important is not that Cheryl hiked but that Cheryl accomplished what she set out to do. No matter how difficult it got, no matter how many people told her she should give up, Cheryl walked from Mexico to Canada. By the end of the film, I felt like, if Cheryl could do that even with boots that were too small, than there was nothing that I could not do.

As a result, Wild is not only one of the best films of 2014.

It’s the most empowering as well.