The Photograph

The Photograph is living proof that a compelling story matters.  Gorgeous cinematography, a soothing jazz score (by Robert Glasper), and a pair of charismatic stars are indeed appreciated.  Yet, all of those lovely ingredients ultimately come up short.  The screenplay is the most important component of a movie.   A drab tale can tank a film no matter how many sophisticated and artistic elements are employed.  This production has the look of quality.  I’ll admit that director Stella Meghie (Everything, Everything) is a talented individual.  She is nothing if not prolific.  The Photograph is her fourth feature since 2016.  There is so much to admire here.   Nonetheless, the script that director Meghie also wrote for this drama isn’t one of them.   It’s stridently humdrum although it’s not distasteful at least.   For some, that will be enough to recommend this lifeless flick.   I — however — am not one of those people.   30 minutes in and I was already checking my watch.

Michael (Lakeith Stanfield), a reporter from New York City is captivated by a portrait of a beautiful woman he inadvertently discovers named Christina (Chanté Adams). His investigation uncovers the mother has a daughter Mae (Issa Rae). She happens to work as a curator at the Queens Museum.  His intern Andy (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) sets up an interview.  Michael and Mae meet and they chat about a variety of topics including rap. He likes Kendrick Lamar.  She prefers Drake. Nevertheless, sparks fly between the potential couple.

The Photograph is a romance built upon a foundation of wistful stares and longing looks.  This is a decidedly light and gauzy affaoir.  Thankfully the leads have chemistry.  That’s significant because the plot is a complete snooze.  Director Stella Meghie employs a non-stop playlist of R&B classics to underscore every scene.  I love listening to legends like Chaka Khan, Al Green, Anita Baker, and Whitney Houston as much as the next person.  Honestly, I probably cherish those artists more because (statistically speaking) I’m likely older than most of the readers of this column.  I’m OK with that because with age comes wisdom.  The music undoubtedly serves to enlighten the mood but a greatest hits of Quiet Storm ballads can only go so far.  The stakes here are pretty low.  Meanwhile, there’s precious little passion to engage our emotions.  It’s hard to give a care about whether two fashionable professionals with fabulous wardrobes and impeccable smiles get together or not.  Sorry, but I prefer more substantial pursuits.

05-14-20