Few times has a celebrity death hit me quite like that of Chadwick Boseman. The fact that it came in a year that contained countless other griefs both large and small did nothing to lessen the impact of the news. It was an utter shock.
While I never met Boseman, I had certainly been a fan of his films and considered him one of our strongest actors. Even embodying one character with the skill and culture-defining aura that he brought to Black Panther as T’Challa would be enough to make him one of the greats. But that was just one in a series of choices the actor made that showed his unique ability to convey the emotion in larger-than-life characters. Having played historical figures such as Jackie Robinson, Thurgood Marshall, and James Brown, Boseman showed that he could rise to any occasion.
Little did we know that his best performance was yet to come. The unbearably sad fact is that he should still have many more performances to give us. His leading turn as the character Levee in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, we now know, is his final screen performance. In my estimation, it is also his best.
Levee is neither a historical figure nor a king of a fictional kingdom. While this film, adapted from the August Wilson play of the same name, does depict the story of the real-life “Mother of the Blues”, Levee is a fictional character. He is the type of character that people overlook every day – a background player in a blues band. But Levee refuses to be overlooked. His ambition is as outsized as the other characters Boseman has played throughout his career. One day, he will have his own band.
Boseman imbues Levee with an effortless swagger. He knows how talented he is and he wants to make sure everyone else knows it. You see, Levee is not really a background player. But on this day, the day the story depicts, Levee is playing trumpet for a recording session with Ma Rainey (Viola Davis) – the legendary blues singer. She has built a career unlike any blues singer of her time. She has her songs, and she is going to play them the way she wants to. And yet, Levee has some ideas of his own for how the songs should be arranged. Thus, the film’s tension begins to build.
As I write this, I am 28 years old. Maybe that is part of why I connected with Levee’s ideas so much. Youth certainly has a part to play here. But it is not the only aspect of Levee’s outlook on life. He is supremely talented as well. The honest truth is that he does deserve more attention than he is getting. If our society were a true meritocracy, the Levees of the world would take up more places of leadership despite their youth.
But the fact remains that seniority has a part to play in society, too. That is not a lament, mind you. The honest truth is that Ma Rainey earned her place and deserves the attention she gets. And so this story, originally from the masterful hand of Wilson, sets up the most powerful kind of tension – where two characters have competing points of view that are both valid.
Ma shows up late to the recording, which underscores the young vs. old tension even more. I do not think I am reading too much into it to think that Levee might feel a bit of frustration. If he had his own band, he would be at the recording. As it stands, the time when the band is waiting for Ma to show up gives Levee the chance to pitch his arrangement of the music to the rest of the band. They, understandably, meet his idea with ridicule. They are there to record Ma’s version, for goodness sake. But the sake of being good is exactly what Levee is considering. He wants the music to be gooooood. And he has the goods to back it up.
The other competing factor is that the music producer leading the session, Mel Sturdyvant (Jonny Coyne), has already promised Levee that he wants to produce the original music he has created. Here we begin to see the film’s other undercurrent – the profiteering of white people off the talent of black artists. There is a sparkle in Levee’s eyes as he talks about the possible record deal.
Boseman makes us feel the certainty. Levee will strike it big. In some ways, youthful naivete brings big ideas to all of us. But Boseman embodies Levee so that we push past any cynicism. We might understand that the other characters think Levee is out of line. But Boseman makes sure we identify with Levee. He will succeed. We want him to.
This is why it hits so hard when the film comes crashing down on top of us. As the characters sit around and play music, they talk about their lives. We find that Levee comes from unimaginable pain. Alongside the talent, there lives within him a rage, as well. Here, I saw a side of Boseman I had not seen before as an actor. He is absolutely visceral in scenes that call for him to lash out at other characters and, in one pivotal moment, to even lash out at God.
As a devout Christian, I often struggle with cinematic displays of blasphemy. I am an ardent supporter of the notion that, just because a film depicts something, it absolutely does not mean the film is endorsing it. As viewers, we need to be more subtle and discerning than that. At the same time, I cannot deny that my faith causes such displays to be extremely unsettling for me. One of Boseman’s key scenes in this film ratchets up the tension in that regard. He is angry with God for the injustices laid upon him. In another year, it might have been a barrier over which I could not cross.
But 2020 brought unique pains to us all. I continue to affirm my faith in my Creator God, yet this year brought me to depths which I had never before experienced. We would simply not be human if questions did not come to our minds in such moments. Questions, I might add, that are also found in the Bible itself.
As a white man writing about a performance by a Black actor portraying a character dealing with injustices unique to his life, am I saying that I completely understand what Levee is experiencing? Absolutely not. I have never, nor will I ever experience such injustice. But, as Roger Ebert eloquently said, movies are empathy machines. I have experienced pain in my own way. Boseman, as Levee, invites all of us to consider our pain, in light of Levee’s pain. How do we perceive such anger in the face of injustice? How does God look at such questions and statements of anger? How does God look at Levee in this moment?
It would be prideful of me to speak for God in any way just as it was prideful in that moment for Levee to lash out in anger at God for the things that had happened to him. Pride, it is said, goes before a fall. As low as Levee has gone by this point in the film, he will go even lower. For this film to hit with the emotional gut punch that it does, Boseman must give complete commitment. He absolutely does, and at no time do you get the feeling that he has anything other than compassion for this character. He sees Levee. He understands Levee. And, as startling as many of the film’s later scenes maybe, he wants us to see Levee, too.
Yes, Levee may be prideful, and his pride leads him down a tragic path in the film’s closing. But was his pride misplaced? The film’s final scene shows us that Levee’s talent was worthy of the heights of which his ambition dreamed. Yet, he was not allowed to realize those dreams. The white gatekeepers led him on before chewing him up and spitting him out. Are they to blame for Levee’s sins? Surely Levee must have accountability in the matter, and he does. But is there no accountability for the sins of the powerful that pushed Levee to his breaking point? Is there any justice?
The film gets at these questions of justice in a somewhat indirect manner. The pieces of the puzzle are all there, but for us to put them together, we need Boseman’s performance. That is what connects everything and makes the film a whole. Boseman makes us feel Levee as a character. He comes alive off the screen. He makes us think about what Levee’s life has to say to us. He may frighten us with some of the places to which he goes. He may bring joy from the zest for life and the talent which he puts on display. He runs us through the full gamut of emotions before we are brought to tears at the tragic ending of the story.
This is a performance worthy of accolades. In my estimation, it is the year’s best performance from a male actor in a leading role. More than that, though, I think this is a performance that will endure. Such a statement is nearly impossible to make in the moment, but this performance has all the makings of the acting turns that continue to stick with me even as I look back years afterward. I am saddened to think that more performances like this were surely in store from Boseman and we will never be able to see them. But I am grateful that we were able to experience Boseman’s talent while he was with us. He truly was one of the greats, and his final performance might just have been his finest hour.
