A Dry White Season

Movies about racism with a white protagonist often exhibit a milquetoast exploration of the subject matter as they inevitability treat systemic modes of oppression as the actions of a bad few. There are the good white people, the bad ones, and the patient, dignified oppressed class on the sidelines seeing their reality reflected through the prism of the privileged class. They are often groan-worthy in the ways they offer soothing balm for deep, ugly scars and obscure present-day realities and the violent histories that have transmogrified into a complicated present.

I’m talking about things like Green Book, Driving Miss Daisy, and The Help, to name just a few. The white characters must learn to see and treat the black characters as equal humans and flirt with their lived experiences before returning to their bubbles having effectively “solved” the issue. Roll credits and watch as the middle class white liberal set leave the theater smiling and chatting about what a great, socially important movie it is.

Thank god A Dry White Season is not one of those movies. Yes, it is about a white protagonist discovering that his safe stasis is built upon the exploitation and brutality of the oppressed class. While other films frame this discovery as a temporary slumming, A Dry White Season finds his character losing everything for daring to examine the effects and reality of colonialism.

It also helps that this film is directed by a black woman which reframes and gives a different authorial intent to the subject matter. Euzhan Palcy doesn’t just trace what her white protagonist loses, but how deeply rooted and reactionary apartheid will go to protect its status quo. She is unafraid to confront her character’s privilege and demonstrates what true allyship can look like when confronting a gigantic beast like racism.

But compromises to her outstanding vision had to be made in order to get the film produced by a major Hollywood studio. Namely, distracting movie stars. Marlon Brando brings all the gravity and weariness of his iconic cinematic legacy to a small part as a human rights lawyer, one of his least showy late-career performances. In contrast, Susan Sarandon’s oft-kilter accent work and minor role are more distracting than immersive as she quickly enters and exits the narrative as a photojournalist. Sacrifices must be made to the money men and this is not the first nor the last movie about a thorny subject that padded its cast out with big names in order to get made.

None of this entirely negates A Dry White Season’s outrage and conviction in detailing the personal sacrifices and moral outrage involved in dismantling unjust systems. In fact, more stories about tricky, complex subject matters could learn a thing or two from this one’s ability to put human faces on its subjects and demarcate the difference between by standing to tragedy and moral agency.