TEST PATTERN: FILM REVIEW
TW: sexual assault
Shatara Michelle Ford’s Test Pattern opens with a harrowing scene (colored by an alarming hue of red) that sets the stage for the events to follow. A woman in a yellow dress barely cups a glass of water between her trembling hands. An unidentifiable man takes it and sets it on the table. The woman’s head rests heavily on her body, as she closes her eyes — clearly sedated. The man takes a seat on the bed and begins to caress her; no consent is given.
Shortly after, we learn that the woman is the film’s protagonist, Renesha (Brittany S. Hall), and the opening scene is a hazy glimpse into the night she was sexually assaulted. Test Pattern takes place over the span of a few days and follows interracial couple Renesha and Evan (Will Brill) as they attempt to navigate the aftermath of Renesha’s sexual assault. In many ways, Renesha and Evan are polar opposites — Renesha works in corporate, and Evan is a tattoo artist. Renesha has a warm and open personality, while Evan is more reserved. But the film reveals through snapshots of Evan and Renesha’s relationship that their opposing qualities are actually complementary and as a couple, the two work really well.
However, there are fundamental differences in Evan and Renesha’s experiences — Evan, a white man and Renesha, a Black woman. Ford takes the dynamics of their interracial relationship and places them under the circumstances of Renesha’s sexual assault — using the film’s drama to speak volumes about the prejudice faced by Black women in America, particularly by the judicial and medical systems. And these failures and frustrations that Renesha is so accustomed to are difficult for Evan to understand.
Almost immediately after the night of Renesha’s assault — a time when she is still processing the event and its trauma — Evan insists on getting a rape kit. Renesha, although initially on the fence about it, eventually agrees and the two drive from clinic to clinic trying to get one. At each destination, they are faced with forced smiles and an uncompromising apology for the clinic’s lack of resources and “expertise.” While Renesha takes these denials without even blinking an eye, Evan gets verbally angry — and the differences in their reactions reveal all about the privileges each have. Ford intentionally characterizes Evan as a likeable and good-natured person, but despite this, he fails to be empathetic to Renesha in the way that she needs him to be. Contrary to what Evan believes, a rape kit and a police report will not fix Renesha’s trauma — and in fact, can be all the more triggering.
Ford expertly further dramatizes Test Pattern and its ironic moments through its soundtrack, which is largely characterized by Robert Ouyang Rusli’s classical music-based score. The sounds of string instruments (and at one point, Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite) color both happy flashbacks of Evan and Renesha, as well as painful realities — further adding depth to a compact story that only spans eighty-two minutes. Through the film’s melancholic and tense music, Renesha’s quietness becomes unmistakably loud and her pain abundantly clear.
In Test Pattern, Ford complicates a fairly simple plot with a racially-driven premise — bringing a magnifying glass to way our system fails to protect sexual assault victims, and the painful reality that follows — where the strings of trauma are often loose and untied, only left to be hung out and dried.