“Geniuses are loners because they can’t connect with the rest of us.”
Two nights ago I saw Cord Jefferson’s directorial debut, American Fiction, at the Cape Cinemas in Dennis, Massachusetts. With my semester starting, I didn’t anticipate having time to make it to the movies during the week, but with how my schedule falls, it seems like I could make it once a week on Thursdays to ensure I’m keeping up on current films, barring my homework is finished and academics are squared away (that’s for you mom and dad). I love going to the Cape Cinemas for multiple reasons. Its unique layout that mimics an old church adds a distinct ambiance to the experience. The collection of films they show is off-the-beaten-path. And they serve Dos Equis, which I indulged in last night.
While it’s a bummer I didn’t see American Fiction prior to 2023 ending, it’s better late than never. When I look at my ranking from last year, I’m positive it would’ve been right outside of the top ten. Maybe I’ll count it as a 2024 film? That feels like cheating, but it never hit theaters around me until 2024 began. Never mind, never mind. I’m getting bogged down minute details.
American Fiction feels remnant of the 2017 Noah Baumbach film, The Meyerowitz Stories, which I like very much. I write that because of the strong, dysfunctional family dynamics we see in both films with both being about the worlds of art and coping with not being successful. The Meyerowitz Stories covers literal, while American Fiction covers the world of literature. For myself as someone who loves to write, American Fiction resinated more to me, even though I can’t speak to the “black experience“. That, and the humor, reeled me in.
SPOILERS AHEAD!
The Good
Reflecting on American Fiction a day later, I realize that there is a lot of good in this film. A lot. Starting with the humorous moments; I admired Jefferson’s writing. He doesn’t try to make the audience laugh with raunchy punchlines. He’s looking to challenge the viewer to open up their mind a bit and understand the academic quips thrown around by intelligent characters from doctors who operate on people to doctors who can’t write you a prescription, but could write a book.
That humor written by Jefferson coincides divinely with the plot of the film that covers the scope of family dynamics and wanting to succeed, while also touching on the themes of depression, failure, and doing the right thing for yourself and family. This idea, originally written by Percival Everett, is genius. He wrote a novel that spins classic satirical tropes on its head as the whole film isn’t strictly satirical. There are satirical elements with Monk writing Fuck as a joke and it surprisingly taking off, and while the white characters eat up this novel, Monk and Sintara see through it, both for different reasons. More or less, it was like Monk was sitting on the outside of a warped bubble of satire just looking at it with disbelief.
We saw attempts at satire in 2023 with Charlie Days Fool’s Paradise, and that didn’t work. But then you see Cord Jefferson adapt original work from Percival Everett and ogle at the genius behind it. Satire is never easy to nail and make both coherent and funny for an audience, but Jefferson, Wright, and everyone else involved did a great job on American Fiction.
An Understated Score Adds Depth To American Fiction
With about twenty five minutes remaining in the film, I began to appreciate the elegancy of the score composed by Laura Karpman. Her usage of subtle jazz tunes that you’d hear at a coffee shop with daunting, heavy-keyed piano fit the vibe of this film like a glove. That combination of quaint horns added the intellectual aura that Jefferson is looking to convey. But it also felt bleak. This is a bleak film masked as a witty comedy and Karpman hit that sentiment on every level you’d expect.
It’s obviously not as bombastic as Ludwig Göransson’s score for Oppenheimer or Hans Zimmer’s score for Dunkirk, but it doesn’t need to be that and that’s why I liked it so much. It’s content being the music you’d hear in the background at a cocktail party.
The Bad
My biggest complaint regarding American Fiction pertains to a line in the film. When Monk and Coraline go on a date, she compliments his writing noting that he writes female characters very well. That’s not the case with Jefferson’s script. While the script is witty in nature and poignant, the female characters feel one-dimensional, lacking a moral compass. I struggled to find what their motives and or beliefs were during my viewing of the film. Coraline seemingly loved Monk’s writing, but also loved Fuck. I understand the duality of a person, but at no point does she spew any criticism towards Fuck — a book that stands as the anti-version of anything Monk has written. She admires Monk’s use of footnotes in his novel, but is swayed by code-switching communication. Her not even adding an inkling of dialogue that denounces the book was odd.
Another female character who was written relatively poorly was Issa Rae as Sintara Golden. She’s the catalyst to why Monk writes My Pafology Fuck, yet when it comes time to discuss Fuck, she remarks that it’s a lazy and exploitive work of literature, but doesn’t feel that way about her book, We’s Lives in Da Ghetto. Monk used We’s Lives in Da Ghetto as a guide to make a baiting joke for white people to feel absolved of their fore fathers, and while Golden did the same, she kind of sees through it, yet does not reflect on her own writing and realize the similarities of the two. It didn’t feel like jealousy or angst from her. That was puzzling.
It Became Redundant To Return To Agnes’ Storyline
I’ve never been a fan of redundancy in a film. The exception is J.K. Simmons drubbing Miles Teller in Whiplash, but generally a redundant storyline feels like a writers’ crutch to mend two parts of a script together. With American Fiction, the redundant element is that Jefferson continuously returns to Agnes’ storyline. The mother of Monk is wrestling with dementia through the entirety of the film and it gets progressively worse. Even though not all of the scenes felt this way, every time Jefferson included a scene focusing on her, I groaned. It felt similar to the first time I watched The Sopranos and you stumble upon a dream episode. It creates a slog of boredom that, at the end of the day, isn’t overly important to the plot.
While I do understand that it’s an added aspect of Monk’s misery, returning to the nursing home or her wandering out of the house felt like an area to tune out. This storyline could have been better if it were an accessory. As a competing plot line to Monk writing Fuck, it didn’t work and took away from my overall enjoyment of a film that I did quite enjoy.
Performance Report Card
Jeffrey Wright: A
When you have a career as successful a Jeffrey Wright, it becomes tough to pinpoint what his best performance is. His most iconic could be as Lt. James Gordon in The Batman or in the James Bond franchise as Felix Leiter, but those aren’t necessarily juicy roles that Wright can sink his teeth into and flaunt his acting chops. American Fiction is that film. That’s probably why I am crowing his role as Monk Ellison as the best of his illustrious career.
When Erika Alexander’s character Coraline says that Ellison isn’t funny in a comedic way, but more in a sad way like a three-legged dog, she’s spot on. This role, while comedic in nature, isn’t packed with zany, gotcha punchlines. They’re depressing observations about the world we live in and how woke culture has soiled the world of literature that he’s so passionate about. I love that. Not to be too derivative of American Fiction, but his performance feels real. This does not feel like a man acting, but rather an author who is hanging on by a thread in his life as his lies intensify and his family dynamic implodes.
Tracee Ellis Ross: B-
My reasoning for not having Tracee Ellis Ross at a B or B+ is because she’s briefly in the film. She brings a bubbly aura to the screen that coats her depressive thoughts, but with her dying roughly twenty to thirty minutes into the film, I can’t justify grading her higher because we don’t get a full character arc from her like we do with Jeffrey Wright, Sterling K. Brown, and Erika Alexander. Nevertheless, I thought Ross added levity Wrights life when he returns home.
Erika Alexander: B-
Even though the chemistry never felt palpable at times amongst Alexander and Wright, she’s not written the best. But that’s not her fault. With the script she was given, she did a good job. There are aspects that don’t fully make sense with her character that I covered above, but again, she’s not the one in charge of writing the script. What I did like was how she became the levity to Monk’s life when his sister passed, essentially filling the void for what he needed to keep him grounded and shoot straight with him.
Issa Rae: C+
While Issa Rae gives a good performance, I have the same issue with her role as I do with Alexanders. She’s ancillary and doesn’t seem to have much of a morale compass. On one hand, she’s proud to hock a book meant to bait white audiences, but hates that Fuck is imitative of her work. That doesn’t make a ton of sense. But then again, it’s not her fault. She gave a good performance for what the role required.
Sterling K. Brown: B
The strongest component of Sterling K. Brown’s performance here is his line delivery. His vocal infliction along with his body mannerisms make his character great no matter what he’s talking about. Whether he’s exclaiming about his wife leaving him or pontificating about the relationship between his dad and Monk, he brought his all to the screen. Brown is extremely powerful whenever he delivers a monologue from Waves to The Predator to American Fiction.
Leslie Uggams: B-
A reason I wasn’t huge on Leslie Uggams’ character was because I didn’t love her line as much as the other characters. Going back to her consistently became painfully redundant. Yet, I admire how well she executed this role of playing a mother in the throes of dementia. Surely that is no easy task and she was convincing, which was vital to the plot. So from that aspect, bravo to Uggams.
Myra Lucretia Taylor: B
Myra Lucretia Taylor’s character was comforting. We all have a relative that’s not our parents who we feel comfort from. That was Taylor. She exuded an ambiance of jovial behavior and a caring nature that played nicely off the Ellison’s generally curmudgeon nature.
John Ortiz: B
Even though John Ortiz didn’t have much screen time, he was hilarious. At times, it felt like he was an outlet for Monk to vent rather than being an agent — and that was good. This was a needed character that added both a comedic relief and vivacity to American Fiction.
Critical Reception
According to Letterboxd, over 33,000 users have seen American Fiction and it’s garnered and average rating of 3.8/5 stars, with 2,550 users giving it a 5/5 star rating. IMDB rated Jeffersons directorial debut a 7.8/10, which is a great score by the IMDB standards. When a film is in the range of 7.5/10 and up on IMDB, that means you did something right. On Rotten Tomatoes, it seems as if the critics and audience are in lockstep. The audience score of American Fiction is a 97% and the Tomatometer rating from critics is a 93%.
Like I mentioned prior, by not seeing American Fiction in 2023, I had to omit it from my 2023 rankings. But when I look at my rankings, I predict I’d pencil it into the number thirteen slot behind Wes Anderson’s The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and bumping Justine Triets Anatomy of a Fall back to fourteen.
