Name: Harriet
Genre: Drama, History
Released: 2019-11-01T00:00:00+00:00
Cast: Cynthia Erivo, Leslie Odom Jr., Janelle Monáe, Clarke Peters, Vanessa Bell Calloway

The opening shot of Harriet lingers on a field, vast and unyielding, where Cynthia Erivo’s eyes meet the camera—Minty, not yet Harriet Tubman, her gaze a quiet defiance. Kasi Lemmons’ film is built on such moments, where the extraordinary life of Harriet Tubman is distilled into frames that hum with tension and purpose.

Lemmons and Gregory Allen Howard’s screenplay traces Tubman’s escape from slavery in Maryland and her subsequent missions to liberate others via the Underground Railroad. The film grounds its heroism in specificity: Erivo’s performance anchors the story, her portrayal of Tubman’s resolve and vulnerability rooted in meticulous research and physicality. The scene where Minty flees her plantation is a masterclass in tension, Erivo’s breathless determination contrasted with the oppressive stillness of the night.

Yet Harriet stumbles when it leans into convention. The score swells too often, underlining emotion rather than trusting the actors or Lemmons’ restrained direction. Leslie Odom Jr.’s William Still and Janelle Monáe’s Marie Buchanon provide able support, but their characters feel secondary, occasionally sidelined by a narrative that prioritizes Tubman’s journey over the broader historical context.

The film’s greatest misstep is its pacing. The middle act drags as it checks off biographical beats, from Tubman’s marriage to her return south to guide others to freedom. These sequences lack the urgency of her initial escape, and the film’s sensory gentleness—praised by some for its accessibility—here becomes a liability, muting moments that demand sharper edges.

What saves Harriet is Erivo’s commanding presence. Her Tubman is both fierce and fragile, a woman shaped by trauma but unbroken. The final act regains its footing as Tubman’s legend grows, culminating in a powerful confrontation with Omar J. Dorsey’s Bigger Long. Here, the film’s quieter strengths reassert themselves: Lemmons’ compositions, Erivo’s performance, and a story that refuses to flinch from the brutality of slavery.

The film also quietly acknowledges Hollywood’s complicated history with slavery narratives. Lemmons avoids the pitfalls of exploitative spectacle or simplistic hero worship, instead crafting a portrait that is both intimate and epic. The cinematography favors natural light and open spaces, emphasizing Tubman’s connection to the land and her spiritual resilience.

Erivo’s performance is the film’s undeniable highlight. She embodies Tubman’s physicality, from the way she moves with quiet purpose to the moments of visceral terror that flash across her face when confronted with the violence of slavery. Erivo’s voice, too, is a weapon—soft and steady in moments of quiet resolve, rising to a powerful crescendo during Tubman’s most impassioned speeches.

The supporting cast is solid but uneven. Odom Jr.’s William Still, a free Black abolitionist, provides a grounded counterpoint to Tubman’s spiritual convictions. Monáe’s Marie Buchanon, a free Black woman who aids Tubman, brings warmth and humor to the film, though her character could have been developed further. Clarke Peters as Ben Ross, Tubman’s father, delivers a subdued performance that underscores the emotional toll of their separation.

The film’s historical scope is both its strength and weakness. While it admirably avoids sensationalism, it occasionally feels constrained by its commitment to factual accuracy. The middle act, in particular, could have benefited from more creative license to heighten drama or explore Tubman’s internal struggles more deeply.

Harriet is a flawed but worthy tribute to its subject, elevated by Erivo’s transcendent performance and Lemmons’ steady hand. It’s a film that demands patience but rewards it with moments of profound emotional resonance.

For viewers seeking a biographical drama rooted in historical accuracy, Harriet offers a compelling, if uneven, experience. The film’s strengths lie in its commitment to Tubman’s story and Erivo’s powerhouse performance. However, those looking for a more dynamic or visually inventive take on the genre may find Harriet somewhat conventional.

Lemmons’ direction is mostly restrained, favoring quiet moments of introspection over explosive set pieces. This approach allows the audience to connect with Tubman on a deeply personal level but can also make the film feel sluggish at times. The cinematography is serviceable, though it occasionally leans too heavily on wide shots of landscapes and cities, which can feel impersonal given the intimate nature of the story.

The soundtrack is another area where Harriet excels. The score is understated but effective, using minimalistic instrumentation to underscore the film’s emotional beats without overpowering them. The use of traditional spirituals and folk music also adds a layer of authenticity to the historical setting.

One of the most striking aspects of Harriet is its exploration of faith and spirituality. Tubman’s deep religious convictions are woven throughout the narrative, providing her with both comfort and strength in the face of adversity. The film doesn’t shy away from depicting the complexities of her beliefs, including her visions and prophetic dreams, which are presented as integral to her character.

The film also delves into themes of freedom and agency, exploring the ways in which slavery strips individuals of their humanity. Tubman’s journey is not just a physical one but a spiritual and emotional one as well, as she grapples with the trauma of her past and the weight of her newfound responsibilities.

Harriet is ultimately a film about resilience and the power of hope. Despite the countless obstacles she faces, Tubman never loses sight of her mission to free others from bondage. Her unwavering determination serves as an inspiration not just for those she helps but for the audience as well.

The film’s ending is bittersweet, acknowledging the ongoing struggle for racial equality in America while also celebrating Tubman’s legacy as a symbol of resistance and liberation. It’s a fitting conclusion to a story that is both deeply personal and universally resonant.

In an era where biographical films often prioritize spectacle over substance, Harriet stands out as a refreshing exception.