Followers

I'll Follow the Sun

Salli Richardson-Whitfield and Omari Hardwick in I Will Follow.

If you had a cough or a scratch, I would drop everything I’m doing to take care of you. Because you are mine.   

– Maye, I Will Follow


I Will Follow is the story of Maye (Salli Richardson-Whitfield), a make-up artist who leaves behind a romantic partner (Blair Underwood) and a superstar career to care for her beloved, free-spirited, dying aunt Amanda (Beverly Todd). Once her aunt passes, Maye is thwarted in her attempts to peaceably mourn—and tie up the loose ends of Amanda’s estate—by Amanda’s daughter, Fran (Michole White). And even though she finds comfort in friends old and new (Tracie Thoms, Damone Roberts, and Phalana Tiller), Maye must navigate her own way through unimaginable grief and loss.

Richardson-Whitfield, in a career-defining turn, is masterfully authentic in her portrayal of Maye. She is a stunning presence on the screen, communicating more through silence and the tears that never come than lesser actors can with an entire script of dialogue and the waterworks on full blast. Her scene with her nephew, Raven (played thoughtfully by Dijon Talton)—in which they humorously duel over sports and hip-hop—is remarkable in its clarity, ease, and modern sensibilities. Even smaller scenes, like the one with the movers (Royale Watkins and Owen Smith), provide levity without sacrificing tone.

When Maye and her part-time lover Troy (Omari Hardwick) are on the screen, the atmosphere is so sexually charged that hairs stand on end. Hardwick, himself, moves with such manly certainty that he is free to be vulnerable without ceding an ounce of credibility. Underwood is fabulously understated as a well-intentioned, if artless significant other who is not quite sure how to save his relationship. Todd, seen in skillfully inserted flashbacks, has such quiet grace that her presence on screen serves to calm and soothe. White, on the other hand, is a force of nature, brimming with the rage, scorn, and guilt of any orphaned child. When Fran and Maye have their final encounter, it is akin to what occurs when a whirlwind meets a house; one fears that Maye might not be able to salvage the debris her life becomes in that moment.

But the real star of this film is writer/director Ava DuVernay.

The key to her success is in her ability to subvert expectation, to abandon cliché in favor of the novel idea—and she does so in the most expert and subtle ways.

Without fanfare or melodrama, a man so masculine that he threatens to burst through the screen has no problem sitting, gently, on a swing to be pushed by the woman he had once intended to love. Nothing seems askew when a married, same-gender-loving couple—one member of whom is completely comfortable with his femininity—drops by to help their friend cope with her terrible loss. It is the most normal thing in the world when black man in a committed relationship is more than able to resist temptation. And when a short-haired cable woman shows up, a rooftop encounter proves that heterosexual and homosexual women can exist in an intimate space that is not defined by sexual desire.

With I Will Follow, DuVernay has managed to do something rarely achieved in American cinema: present black folk—and black gay folk for that matter—as human beings capable of the same joys and sorrows, traversing the same hills and valleys, as the rest of the world.

Outside of their common tropes, devoid of demeaning pathology and dehumanizing racial and sexual gazes, DuVernay is free to display these characters with an inward gaze, which only serves to magnify their humanity. They have lives that seem informed by events that occur before and after the film. In other words, they are three dimensional: not "black people" or "gay people," but just people.

All of this is recorded with a lens so precise and a light so interested in finding the beauty in every instant, that even the moments of sorrow are moonglow. And one must not forget the cinematography: lovely trees, breathtaking sunsets, winding roads, and the elegance of privacy. One can only hope that the Academy and the NAACP are watching, too.

I Will Follow is a sublime, hip, inspired, affirming, empowering film that evinces DuVernay's incredible intellect. If this is the kind of art we can expect from this writer/director in the future, then, perhaps, we should follow her wherever she decides to take us.



Due to overwhelming demand, I Will Follow has been expanded into AMC theaters across the country.  Visit the I Will Follow website to see where the film is playing near you.