FENCES: You Don’t Have To Fix What Ain’t Broken

Set in 1950s Pittsburgh, Fences centers around a black garbage collector named Troy Maxson (Denzel Washington), who is raising his family on a limited income while continually reminding them of how he could have done better for himself—had not racial and class differences stood in his way. His bitter attitude does not rattle his faithful wife, Rose (Viola Davis), but it does alienate his youngest son, Cory (Jovan Adepo), who wants to make a name for himself as a football player but is constantly being held back by his father. Other people who stop by the Maxson household include Troy’s jovial co-worker Jim Bono (Stephen McKinley Henderson), his eldest son Lyons (Russell Hornsby) and his disabled brother Gabe (Mykelti Williamson), and their various personalities all clash in some way with Troy’s ideals.

Originally a play written by August Wilson, the film was brought to life by Washington from a screenplay Wilson wrote shortly before he died in 2005. It’s an especially personal project for Washington, as he starred in a 2010 Broadway revival that netted both him and Viola Davis Tony Awards for their performances (Henderson, Hornsby, and Williamson also reprise their Broadway roles in the film). As the film was recently nominated for Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Supporting Actress and Best Adapted Screenplay, it appears Washington’s efforts have paid off—but does that necessarily mean Fences is a good film?

Strikeout or Homerun?

Vocal detractors of the film have been quick to point out that its theatrical underpinnings have not been erased. The play is exclusively set in the Maxson backyard, for instance, and many of the film’s key moments also take place there (though Washington does utilize other spaces, such as the interior of the Maxson home, at opportune times). Others have criticized Washington’s direction, which is undeniably minimalist in approach.

I agree that the direction is perhaps the film’s least interesting aspect, and I would add that the editing is also lacking in some scenes (most noticeably during the first big scene in the backyard, when the characters pass around a bottle of gin; the amount in the bottle is glaringly inconsistent between some shots).

Sometimes, though, you have to forgive technical faults when the force of the material is enough to carry itself, and it’s hard to dismiss Wilson’s play as a minor work. It’s a display of brilliant writing, and this is what, at the end of the day, makes Fences, the film, successful. So much about this story hinges on the symbolism of that yard, and the dialogue is so rich and lived-in that paring it down would have been sacrilegious.

Maybe Washington’s thinking was nothing more than “Don’t fix what ain’t broken.” And because Fences the play is so unremitting, so unadorned, so unflinching, there’s virtually nothing one can do but follow Wilson line by line and let him do the talking.

The Actors Take the Bat

Translating Wilson’s words to the screen was only half the battle. Finding a cast that could do them justice was just as important, and I think bringing back half of the 2010 revival’s cast was a stroke of genius. For it is evident when you watch the film that all of them have intimate knowledge of their characters (though that does not mean the newcomers are weaker—on the contrary, they do a great job of holding their own, especially Adepo). Henderson’s Bono could be the guy living next door to you, a caring neighbor and faithful friend. Williamson may be less than subtle as Gabe, though he radiates kindness and sincerity through and through. Hornsby is warm and reassuring as aspiring musician Lyons.

Yet the bulk of the praise has rightfully gone to Washington and Davis, an acting dream team if there ever was one. The former nails Troy’s various monologues; he lives and breathes them so that it feels like he’s rattling off the contents of his soul instead of reciting the words of a script. Yet he also knows the inherent tragedy of Troy’s character that spurs the film’s various conflicts, and he works hard to make it felt so that we are given the avenues in which to understand Troy’s position. It’s a complex role handled incredibly well.

Davis, on the other hand, ends up soaring to different heights. This is the perfect example of character and actress in seamless harmony with each other. Rose is not only the character we come to love the most, but she’s also the rock that this story is built on—and Davis does her justice the way August Wilson would’ve wanted her to. A few moments spring to mind that display Davis’ mastery of the character.

The first is when Troy divulges a shameful secret to Rose in their kitchen. Here, the revelation does not hit her immediately. It takes a few moments for it to sink in. But the consequences are devastating. Her world is in collapse, and her knees buckle from the weight of what she has heard. As soon as it happens, our sorrow and anger well up alongside hers, and from that moment forward we are in Davis’ pocket entirely.

The second moment occurs near the end, during the epilogue. Cory has returned home after a period of estrangement, and Rose must convince him to resume his filial duties as a Maxson. There is no yelling, no admonishment. Only the love and tears of a mother. The tenderness of a woman who has suffered great hardships, but has refused to fall. It’s almost impossible to find a point here that shows Davis “acting,” because I don’t think she is. Her own life and that of Rose seem to become one at this moment.

Swinging for the Fences

A few days ago, Viola Davis won the Best Supporting Actress SAG Award for her work in Fences (and there’s no question she’ll go all the way and win the Oscar next month, too). Davis is known for her powerful acceptance speeches, and her SAG acceptance was no different: “What August did so beautifully is he honored the average man who happened to be a man of color. Sometimes we don’t have to shake the world and move the world and create anything that is going to be in the history book. The fact that we breathe and live a life and was a god to our children. Just that means that we have a story and it deserves to be told.”

This, I think, perfectly encapsulates why Fences is an important story, and one deserving to be told on the screen: it’s a tale of humanity, responsibility, self-sacrifice and error told from the perspective of lives that have been occluded from the grand narrative. It brings us closer to them without the threat of excessive artifice.

For a few hours, we live alongside these characters, and we manage to come away touched by their troubles and triumphs—and this is the key. Fences is about reaching out and bringing us in, and now, as a film, it gives more people access to its graces. If there are faults in execution, they are miniscule compared to the power it exudes, and the powerhouses who help bring it to life.

How does Fences compare to other stage-to-screen adaptations you’ve seen?

Fences is currently out in U.S. theaters and will be released on February 10 in the U.K. All international release dates are listed here.