PASSING: FILM REVIEW
Set in the 1920s and based on Nella Larsen’s 1929 novel of the same name, Rebecca Hall’s Passing explores what happens when Irene (Tessa Thompson) unexpectedly runs into her childhood friend Clare (Ruth Negga) at an upscale Manhattan hotel. Both Irene and Clare are light-skinned, but in the time since the two old friends were in school together, Clare has decided to live her life “passing” for white. She even marries a racist white man named John (Alexander Skarsgård), who has no idea that his wife is a person of color. Meanwhile, Irene is married to a Black doctor named Brian; the two live in Harlem with their two sons and a maid. When Irene and Clare cross paths, their lives are forever changed — initially for better, but then for worse.
When Irene learns about Clare’s situation, she is confused. In fact, Irene can hardly recognize Clare when the two first encounter each other. When Clare enthusiastically and humorously begins to detail the new norms of her life passing as white, Irene is anything but sympathetic. How could someone so charismatic and self-aware be living so dishonestly? Her confusion turns to anger when she meets Clare’s husband, as he explicitly makes clear his disdain for Black people. “You can turn as Black as you please, I know you’re not coloured!” John smugly says to Clare. Irene breaks out into hysterical laughter; she can’t help herself. But out of both discomfort and fear, Irene hurriedly leaves the hotel and vows not to see or talk to Clare again.
However, sure enough, the two cross paths again. Clare, in the depths of her loneliness, writes Irene a letter begging to see her again. When Irene doesn’t respond, Clare desperately shows up at Irene’s door — a move which, although crosses boundaries, ends up igniting their friendship once more. Irene begins to see Clare for who she is, as Clare attempts to integrate herself into Irene’s circles. Irene begins to rationalize Clare’s decision to “pass” for white, and in turn, becomes more self-aware about her own identity. Such crises plant a seed for the film’s eventual drama — neither Clare nor Irene are able to completely hide behind their thinly-veiled masks.
Hall gives new meaning to the term “passing,” expanding the definition to refer to themes beyond race. Irene sells her life as near-perfect. She should have everything she needs: a loving husband, healthy sons, a big brownstone, and a social life in upper-tier circles that even include famous white novelist Hugh Wentworth (Bill Camp). Clare looks at Irene’s life and feels envy, not knowing that Irene, too, is passing — not for white, but passing as seamlessly upper-class. Irene, too, both acknowledges and wants to ignore her race — even getting angry at her husband every time he tries to talk to his sons about being Black in America.
Tessa Thompson is graceful as Irene Redfield; she is entirely composed and charming, yet remains reserved in a way that is difficult to place. Like Clare, there is a dishonesty in the way she looks at and approaches her carefully engineered life — an anxiety that eats at her until she reaches a breaking point. Clare, on the other hand, is the center of attention in any room that she walks into. Her blonde hair, doe eyes, and warm smile capture the attention of all passerby — even Irene’s husband at times. Hall’s debut feature communicates its characters’ messaging through the unsaid — carefully focusing the camera on elongated glances in the mirror and empty interactions that are only meant to distract. With Passing, Hall seeks to interrogate the ways we all try to pass for something — asking the viewer what type of person they are pretending to be.