The Way It Is
The best time loop stories allow the hero ensnared in them to find unlikely discovery, possibility, and even liberation. Snarky Pittsburgh weatherman Phil Connors goes on fifty first dates with Rita Hanson, failing mightily at first, then capturing her heart but in a manipulative way, before realizing he only wants something genuine with her. Connors also tries to get out of being trapped in February 2nd in various ways — starting out comedic and then escalating to suicide in the tub of a two star Western Pennsylvania hotel. Phil makes friends in this world, completely abandoning the mission of winning over Rita or even getting out of the time loop for a while; he steps outside of his own timeline to focus on the fate of a homeless man who for most of the film was just an afterthought.
This range of possibility is what is missing from Travon Free and Martin Desmond Roe’s ambitious new Oscar-winning entry Two Distant Strangers on Netflix. Maybe this critique is not completely fair and the attempt to meld high concept and police brutality should be admired. Groundhog Day is also a feature, with plenty of time for world and character-building, compared to this 32 minute short.
In New York City, though too obviously shot in downtown Los Angeles, black cartoonist James Carter (Joey Bada$$) is just heading out from a one night stand with Perri (Zaria Simone). Riding high off a good night but not exactly the smoothest operator, Carter makes it clear that he definitely maybe probably wouldn’t mind seeing her again.
Ah millennial love.
Carter calls his pup on one of those bougie smart pet food apps that I would’ve made fun of him for until I got one myself a few years ago. Downstairs he lights a smoke and takes in the fresh air. Then a familiar, if not heavy-handed encounter with Officer Merk (Andrew Howard), plays out. In the end Carter is pinned to the sidewalk croaking out “I can’t breathe” repeatedly. I almost turned off the film then and there. It’s too soon, too raw.
But then the day begins again. And again. The why is never explained. There is not even a barebones sci fi conceit a la the magical cave in Palm Springs. Carter just wakes up in Perri’s bed again, post coital bliss now giving way to existential dread. Carter tries different strategies to alter the course of events. One time, he just stays in Perri’s apartment, only to have the police storm inside, raiding the wrong home. This is where Two Distant Strangers is at its most powerful, with the permutations of violence Carter faces mirroring each black name we’ve heard over the past five years.
On the other hand, there’s a whole lot of black death and violence going on. Carter’s body is mauled so much he starts to feel like an apparition. At an equivalent narrative point in Palm Springs, the two leads were goofy dancing at a small town bar two hours east of Los Angeles. At this point in Groundhog Day, Connors was trying to elude too genuine Ned Ryerson on Main Street. “Phil?! Phil Connors?”
Why don’t black leads get their own fun and games too?
Eventually Carter tries finding common ground with Officer Merk, which first involves proving that he’s stuck in a time loop; he predicts that Merk’s mother will call but also not to worry because it’s nothing important.
On the most promising day, Merk agrees to drive Carter back home so that he can be reunited with his dog at last. The two trade personal and political dialogue. Merk seems impressed with Carter’s conviction. Bruce Hornsby & The Range’s “The Way It Is,” aka the 1986 rock song that was sampled for 2Pac’s Changes paces some of these more optimistic moments.
Only, without any explanation (or frankly, motivation), Merk still guns Carter down. A more interesting twist on this might’ve involved another officer eying Carter and Merk being forced to make a choice. The film ends without Carter ever breaking free of the time loop, but resolving that one day he’ll finally make it back home.
Here’s the problem. It’s not until minute 27 that Carter really tells Perri about his time loop conundrum. He just wakes up every morning, in the bed of a black woman he likes and who is his most obvious ally, and never breaks down in front of her, never mind enlists her in some sort of plot to fight back. Nor does he dare marshal the collective power of other city dwellers he only mentions in passing to a cop he’s trying to appease. He doesn’t even try to befriend a nearby woman who later takes out her cellphone to record. Being stuck in time allows for these uncanny opportunities. Maybe not to fully transcend systemic racism, but to deliver blows against it.
When I first started having cop encounters when I got my driver’s license as a teen, I had a list of five trusted people I would call, including my mother and my father. They stayed on the phone, no matter how long, no matter what hour, making me feel as safe as I could, and reminding me of the world beyond this moment.
To be sure, Two Distant Strangers doesn’t need to have all the answers. And one short can only cover so much ground. But right now black storytelling is at a crossroads as it moves beyond vital just the facts portrayals of slavery, Jim Crow, and present day terror and steps into horror, time loop sci fi, and other genres.
Jordan Peele himself considered ending Get Out on a less uplifting note, but thank goodness he didn’t. The film doesn’t work unless our hero gets free. No, not necessarily all of black America. Not yet at least. But this one dude, on this one day, who we were all pulling for. As our auteurs continue to play in these spaces, I just hope there’s a way we can depict the realities of black suffering while also feeling liberated enough by these genres to imagine possibilities that extend far beyond misery as well.
**1/2 outta *****