I don't know who gave Barry Jenkins the project of filming Colson Whitehead's Pulitzer Prize winning novel, "The Underground Railroad," but thank you. Not only does this series do it's subject matter justice, it also elevates the form of episodic television series out of it's often sensational form and puts it squarely into an that of an art form. Each episode could be a stand-alone feature length film. And Jenkins has said that he needed a "long form" to tell this story because the "hard" scenes are so disturbing, they overwhelm the "soft" parts of the film. Watching the end result, I'm not sure he entirely succeeds in putting enough between the manifestations of horror of the subject matter, but he certainly pulls out all the stops in an effort to do so. From location scouting, to costume design, to cinematography, all pulled together by a soundtrack that is not just the score by Nicholas Britall, but a soundscape that includes insects, industrial, animal and natural sounds like trees rustling or wind moaning, it all fused together perfectly..
We're left seeing something lyrical and deeply felt that often uses little dialogue and very little exposition. It's not what we expect from a the miniseries form and certainly not what we expect on the subject matter of slavery in America. While nothing is homogenized for an audience who still lives with and denies the remnants of Slave economy and trade-or perhaps it's the consequence of moral failings of a Nation who expressed ideals that belie this practice-it's the lead character's drive and purpose to escape her fate that holds us. We understand Cora's drive, but also wonder where it comes from. She was born into slavery and knows nothing else. That she sees or imagines a better horizon without ever witnessing it, puts her in the Classical heroic form. We can attribute some of it to the fact her Mother abandoned her for a better life...or at least that's what she's told or assumes; but, the obstacles she faces that only seem to maker her more determined is nothing ordinary.
Her pursuer played by Joel Edgerton balances out the exceptionalism of Cora, played by the riveting Thuso Mbedu, is more familiar. The psychopath has been well-covered in the long form of a miniseries. But it's the persistence of the pursuit and how disruptive it is to the brief moments of peace and respite Cora finds that propels the action. He has the single drive that Cora has, but she and the viewer realize only one can have what they want. And it's less who wins-because no one with a single purpose ever does-than what Cora discovers on her journey. As she boards a fully realized railroad that here is literally underground, she's encouraged, "if you want to see what this nation is all about, you got to ride the rails. Just look outside as you speed through and you will see the true face of America." And that's really the purpose of the series: unveiling the consequence of the moral failing at the core of America. There is religious fervor, economic success, benevolence masking deceit, and the love inherent in living. In Cora's case, that's a very small token after all that's been taken from her. Yet, it's there.
There's also the natural beauty of the country itself. In two episodes, it's literally been set ablaze. The imagery of fire, what it promises and what it destroys, how it can light the way or consume us, is used throughout.
Those who demand adherence to literal history will not be satisfied. History is not even referenced other than the name of the State Cora is journeying through. And because it's a fantasy, I fear the brutality on display will be dismissed. But perhaps those so willing to deny the consequence of the moral scourge we're still living with as a result of the dehumanization of a race, won't be all that interested in this lush, bold and very admirable work.
We're left seeing something lyrical and deeply felt that often uses little dialogue and very little exposition. It's not what we expect from a the miniseries form and certainly not what we expect on the subject matter of slavery in America. While nothing is homogenized for an audience who still lives with and denies the remnants of Slave economy and trade-or perhaps it's the consequence of moral failings of a Nation who expressed ideals that belie this practice-it's the lead character's drive and purpose to escape her fate that holds us. We understand Cora's drive, but also wonder where it comes from. She was born into slavery and knows nothing else. That she sees or imagines a better horizon without ever witnessing it, puts her in the Classical heroic form. We can attribute some of it to the fact her Mother abandoned her for a better life...or at least that's what she's told or assumes; but, the obstacles she faces that only seem to maker her more determined is nothing ordinary.
Her pursuer played by Joel Edgerton balances out the exceptionalism of Cora, played by the riveting Thuso Mbedu, is more familiar. The psychopath has been well-covered in the long form of a miniseries. But it's the persistence of the pursuit and how disruptive it is to the brief moments of peace and respite Cora finds that propels the action. He has the single drive that Cora has, but she and the viewer realize only one can have what they want. And it's less who wins-because no one with a single purpose ever does-than what Cora discovers on her journey. As she boards a fully realized railroad that here is literally underground, she's encouraged, "if you want to see what this nation is all about, you got to ride the rails. Just look outside as you speed through and you will see the true face of America." And that's really the purpose of the series: unveiling the consequence of the moral failing at the core of America. There is religious fervor, economic success, benevolence masking deceit, and the love inherent in living. In Cora's case, that's a very small token after all that's been taken from her. Yet, it's there.
There's also the natural beauty of the country itself. In two episodes, it's literally been set ablaze. The imagery of fire, what it promises and what it destroys, how it can light the way or consume us, is used throughout.
Those who demand adherence to literal history will not be satisfied. History is not even referenced other than the name of the State Cora is journeying through. And because it's a fantasy, I fear the brutality on display will be dismissed. But perhaps those so willing to deny the consequence of the moral scourge we're still living with as a result of the dehumanization of a race, won't be all that interested in this lush, bold and very admirable work.