It’s quite fitting that Rebecca Hall chose to adapt Nella Larsen’s acclaimed 1929 novel Passing as her directorial debut. As the daughter of a light-skinned biracial woman, opera singer Maria Ewing, and as a white-passing biracial woman herself, Hall has a personal connection to the source material that radiates through her sincere black-and-white melodrama. Examining race, class, gender, sexuality, and identity, Passing is a confident and stunning debut from the actor-turned-writer/director.
Set in 1920s New York City, Passing tells the story of Irene Redfield (Tessa Thompson) and Clare Kendry (Ruth Negga), two light-skinned Black women who, having been childhood friends in Chicago, rekindle their friendship after a chance encounter. Irene and Clare meet for the first time at a white-only hotel tea room, where they are both attempting to pass. When Irene first notices Clare, with her platinum blonde hair, she mistakes her for a stranger before finally recognizing her.
Despite both women being able to pass as white if they wanted to, they both live on opposite ends of the spectrum. Reserved Irene lives with her successful husband Brian (André Holland) and their two sons in a Harlem brownstone. On the flip side, free-spirited Clare, for whom passing has become a way of life, is married to an unabashedly racist white man, John (Alexander Skarsgård), who is unaware of the fact that his wife is a Black woman and often cracks jokes about her tan skin that she has no choice but to laugh off. Clare — reveling in her ability to pass — easily moves between two worlds, while Irene chooses to remain confined in what she feels is safest, as she attempts to shield her children from the reality of the anti-Black world they live in.
The sudden reunion between the pair reawakens repressed desires and causes Clare to begin reintegrating into Black society and reconnect with her roots. They increasingly become infatuated with one another’s lives, as Clare begins to visit Irene regularly in Harlem and incorporates herself within Irene and Brian’s life. Irene, on the other hand, lusts for Clare in both a sexual and envious way, as Clare is able to leisurely move between societies without raising any suspicions. In one scene, Irene and Clare are at a party, and the camera — from Irene’s perspective — rests on Clare’s bare skin as she wears a backless dress and Irene is filled with the sudden urge to grab Clare’s hand. While there is bisexual subtext, evident in the gazes exchanged by the two women, their romantic connection is not explored beyond surface level flirtation and lingering jealousy.
Stylishly photographed in black-and-white by cinematographer Eduard Grau with a tense 4:3 aspect ratio, and with elegant lighting and gorgeous costumes by Marci Rodgers, Passing is a visually beautiful film that recalls classic Hollywood cinema. The main issue is in terms of pacing, which, despite the tight 98-minute runtime, is slow at times and drags towards the middle, but this ultimately pays off in the final ten minutes which make for a shocking conclusion.
What Hall does best is draw out fantastic performances from her ensemble, especially Thompson and Negga, who are both transcendent in their roles. As Irene, Thompson gives her finest performance to date, and Negga shines bright as Clare, looking like she came straight out of the ‘20s. Even Holland, who has a fairly minor role, is given enough space to deliver another great performance.
With Passing, Hall aims not to make a big, bold statement, but rather communicate through delicate gestures and details. While not perfect, Passing proves that Hall is not only an excellent performer, but is on the way to becoming a great filmmaker as well.
