American Son

American Son

The opening title of “American Son” deems it a “Netflix Television Event” rather than a movie. With the entire cast of the Broadway production of Christopher Demos-Brown’s play of the same name, the action is set in a Miami police station lobby on a night when it’s raining cats and dogs. The uncredited production designer has created a believable cinematic environment what’s going on outside the windows looks like real precipitation but this still feels like a filmed play almost from the start, despite director Kenny Leon’s use of focus to change the stresses of certain shots.

Before bringing us into that grim lobby, it shows us this quote from Ta-Nahesi Coates: “Race is the child of racism, not the father.” If only life were so simple that an intelligent citation at the beginning of a film, or filmed play, guaranteed an intelligent film or filmed play. There are alas many examples to contradict that proposition. The odious recent “Cuck,” for instance, begins with an adage from Immanuel Kant.

Waiting anxiously in this police station lobby is Kerry Washington’s Kendra, whose teenage son Jamal has been gone from home long enough for her to be greatly concerned. Further complicating matters is Jeremy Jordan as Larkin, a young white cop who alternates obfuscating “I can’t tell you that” evasions with condescending entreaties to calm down. He wants her to wait for another officer to get there in four hours and fill her in.

Kendra gets angry when Larkin asks if Jamal has a “street name.” Jamal, successful academic that he is (he tears up at Emily Dickinson), corrects him: “That’s Dickens.” Four letter word replys Larkin: “Pretty sure it was Emily Dickinson.”

Did something go thud in your brain right then like an enormous 16-ton shoe stomping on dirt and kicking up dust? If so, maybe you shouldn’t watch “American Son,” because that was just the beginning. A couple of minutes later, Larkin directs Kendra to a water fountain. “There are two water fountains,” he clarifies, a little shyly. Above the fountains is a plaque honoring the work of what he calls “The Big Five.”

“The Big Six,” Kendra corrects him. Yes yes yes, Larkin says, and all that Ralph Abernathy did for and then he stops himself. Yeah. He’s about to say “you people” but he catches himself and just says “people.” But never in the history of telegraphing have you seen telegraphing like this before ever not once never ever in your whole life. Most of the acting here is overdone almost to the point of ostentation it’s as if all these performers are trying to project past an especially deep proscenium

At this point, you realize “American Son” is a chamber version of “Crash.” Soon Kendra’s estranged husband, Scott (Stephen Pasquale) shows up he’s white and an FBI agent, for a double bingo and that Larkin greets him with nothing but respect and welcome is the first never saw that coming beat of many this drama has in store. Less credible are the arguments Scott and Kendra get into.

When they were together, they worked extra hard to raise their child “right,” which, in Scott’s mind, meant keeping him completely insulated from what he sees as the corrosive influence of black culture. The work cannot poke at this particular hornet’s nest with any depth. It does reveal a deep flaw in the argument though: When Scott decides to try and relitigate the actual naming of their child he wanted to call the baby Seamus; Kendra won out by going with the name of her dead brother you start wondering how this couple managed to last 20 minutes into their first date let alone stay married for over 15 years.

Then there’s Jamal’s emerging anti-cop politics (based on genuine Black Lives Matter politics or because his dad abandoned him?) What about West Point? No I’m not kidding.

To complete our quartet we have a second police officer who is older / Himself a person of color, he’s something something something both sides-ism something something pointing out that the police officer who pulled over Jamal’s car (which is decorated with an ostensible anti-cop bumper sticker) was black. After which he delivers more unenlightening pieties.

All these “what incredible irony!” moments are designed to well I’m not quite sure. The movie’s final line is an exploitative and cheap reversal that appropriates the dying words of a black man killed by police and legitimately addresses exactly nothing.

Watch American Son For Free On Gomovies.