It’s not often I leave a cinema wondering what I’ve just watched, but knowing it is important. Origin from Oscar-winning director Ava DuVernay presents a story that crosses genres to present a history of systemic hate.
Origin is not a biopic in the classic sense. It attempts to adapt Isabel Wilkinson’s Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents, a non-fiction book that demonstrates how American racism goes far beyond the borders of the US. But rather an entrenched social stratification affecting people globally.
Wilkinson suggests that for centuries humans have been placing themselves into hierarchies designed to mark certain groups as inferior. This takes us on a journey moving from America’s brutal slave trade, to Nazi Germany’s extermination of the Jewish community, and India’s caste system.
A film about grief as well as discrimination
For so much suffering to be so interconnected can be a difficult concept to wrap our heads around. As we naturally like to put our atrocities in little boxes. So Director Ava DuVernay tells another story side-by-side with the first. A story that feels more familiar. Loss.
Wilkinson’s husband, mother, and cousin all died during the writing process of Caste. It’s a fact that DuVernay clearly found hard to ignore in the making of Origin as Grief pervades every frame of the film.
It helps to ground the suffering found in the story and attach it to one character, otherwise it might have been almost too overwhelming. Lead actor Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor almost holds the audience’s hand in her role as Wilkinson. She guides us during intense emotional moments, but also through the more intellectual moments of the story.
But this is where Origin becomes hard to define. It’s a biopic and a documentary. It is personal and universal. It is contemporary, and also a period piece.
Ava Duverny has created something that exists within its own category. It attaches character and heart to a thesis statement, without feeling stiff or forced.
I think a large reason why some critics are already labelling Origin as a miss fire from the director, is because they don’t understand what DuVernay was trying to do. She has done the impossible job of distilling a heavily researched, non-fiction book, into an emotional, engaging feature. This is no easy task and it might not be what we’re used to but DuVernay’s ambition, and execution, should be recognised.
DuVernay’s use of imagery carries her message further
This isn’t just through Wilkinson’s groundbreaking words either. The most impactful images of the film come from the past as we travel with the cramped bodies stacked together through the middle passage; Cold-blooded murder stained into the snow of Auschwitz; The everyday humiliation of the Dalit people of India, digging through sewage drains in exchange for food.
DuVernay’s camera doesn’t obey the laws of time either; showing up in the 1930s to shine a light on civil rights heroes, celebrated anthropologists, and conscientious objectors. The choice to use 16mm film to shoot creates a shared visual language throughout, speaking to the interconnectedness of the issues posed in different times, places, and people.
It may be difficult for some to get their head around as its narrative style isn’t something that we’re used to, but I promise it is worth it. It can feel like a heavy book you know is straining your arms, but you still don’t want to put it down. Please keep holding on.
Featured image credit: Black Bear Pictures
Film and Tv Editor at Brig Newspaper. Currently studying Journalism and English at the University of Stirling
