‘Till’ breathes life into American history | movie review

Bringing a piece of American history to life, Till is the story of a mother’s love as a woman fights for justice after her young son is murdered in the 1950s

The name “Emmett Till” is one that is often thrown around. He is one of a handful of Civil Rights figures (along with Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr., and Malcolm X) that have permeated the culture to the extent that they are mentioned on the half page allocated to the “Civil Rights Movement” in American History textbooks. (He even made his way briefly into my conservative Christian education in rural Michigan). Perhaps you know that he was a 14-year-old Black boy who was lynched in Mississippi. Perhaps you have seen the photos of his body that were used to showcase the horror of racism. But for many, Emmett Till remains a distant historical figure rather than a real human, even though his murder only took place 67 years ago (for context, he’d be the same age as Bernie Sanders and Martha Stewart if he was still alive). Till, Chinonye Chukwu’s film which premiered at the New York Film Festival on October 1, seeks to make Emmett Till a human once again.

In a Q&A after the press and industry screening of the film Chukwu outlined three non-negotiables she stipulated when she was approached to direct Till. First, she did not want to show violence against Black bodies directly. Second, she wanted the film to begin and end with moments of joy. And third, she wanted to center the story of Emmett Till around his mother Mamie Till-Mobley. All three of these choices contribute to breathing life into a story that has become more myth than real-life, especially for non-POC Americans.

In recent years we’ve seen an increasing number of films that could be labeled “trauma porn” whether those be brutal depictions of violence against Black people (like in Antebellum), against women (as with Blonde), against queer people (see the recent “Bury Your Gays” trope), or against those with mental health issues (The Son’s manipulative plotting comes to mind). It could have been easy to steer into the horrific, graphic violence committed against Till here with long, grizzly lynching scenes, but Chukwu deftly steers away from that while still presenting a powerful, unflinching portrait of what happened to Till.

The casting of the cherubic, exuberant Jalyn Hall as Emmett (who goes by “Bobo”) instantly gives the film a lightness in its early sections, although those are obviously complicated with the dread we as the audience feel knowing what is coming. Hall plays Till as a goofy, sometimes lazy, always sweet, smiley little boy, the type of child we’ve all met, and the type we know can accidentally wander into trouble. Just how quickly things escalate, however, clearly illustrates the dangers that even innocent Black children were subjected to then (and unfortunately still today far too often).

The centerpiece of the film, of Chukwu’s directing, and of Till’s emotion is Danielle Deadwyler’s portrayal of Emmett’s mother. Deadwyler (who you may know from last year’s The Harder They Fall or Station Eleven, both of which show her dizzying range as an actor), gives one of the most tremendous, full-bodied performances of the year. As Emmett’s loving protective mother early on, as the heartbroken, grief-stricken mourner in the film’s center, and as the persistent, determined fighter in the third act, she builds a mountain of Oscar-worthy moments. Especially in several long takes, Deadwyler proves herself as an actor Hollywood should be watching. The strength and subtlety of her performance is the best thing about the film (and one of the best performances of 2022). The film succeeds largely because of Deadwyler’s performance, and its ability to deliver to the audience the full emotional weight of the lynchings without the graphic violence mostly falls on the shoulders of her portrayal. Some credit for this performance must be given to Chukwu, who captured an equally powerful performance from Alfre Woodard in her 2019 drama Clemency.

While the true story is one that needs to be told, and the performances are tremendous, they are slightly undercut by the technical elements of the film. Up against a slew of big-budget, artistically nuanced period pieces (Noah Baumbach’s White Noise premiered the day before at NYFF, and The Fabelmans, Empire of Light, and The Women King are all swirling through this year’s awards conversations), Till feels a bit chintzy at times. Some scenes are obviously green screen, the production design is underwhelming, and the sets often feel more like walking into a Cracker Barrell than the 1950s. The film, which was produced by Whoopie Goldberg and documentarian Keith Beauchamp, among others, was not a project to get greenlit do the uncomfortable subject matter, and I would imagine the financing was not on the level of recent productions from behemoths like Netflix or Amazon. One wonders whether the film’s weak spots in the technical areas are a result of filmmaking choices or the movie’s small budget given Hollywood’s longstanding reluctance to financially support projects with Black voices at the center (especially ones that focus on racism). I tend to think the latter, and hope that someday soon we’ll get to see Chukwu work with the budgets given to her white, male counterparts.

Certainly not a flawless film, but one that triumphs repeatedly in many ways, Till accomplishes much of what it sets out to do. It gives new life to Emmett Till. It showcases the work of his mother as a Civil Rights activist. It delivers a tremendous Oscar-worthy central performance. And it manages to tell a terrible, terrible story without being overly graphic or shying away from the horrors, all while being approachable to a larger audience (a nearly impossible tightrope walk that Chukwu should be commended for walking). Till makes the (too near) past present and full of life, and hopefully reminds viewers that Emmett Till is more than just a name and a series of black and white photographs.

Hey! I’m Matt. You can find me on Twitter here. I’m also a staff writer at Buzzfeed.

Karl Delossantos

Hey, I'm Karl, founder and film critic at Smash Cut. I started Smash Cut in 2014 to share my love of movies and give a perspective I haven't yet seen represented. I'm also an editor at The New York Times, a Rotten Tomatoes-approved critic, and a member of the Online Film Critics Society.