55072: Exhibiting Forgiveness

To paraphrase a recent meme, "If I had a nickel for every time a painter decided to write and direct a movie about another visual artist's emotional and artistic struggles, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's strange that it happened twice." It takes a certain amount of chutzpah a visual artist to write and direct a movie about a visual artist, so much so that I can only think of the two instances: 1996's Basquiat, written and directed by Julian Schnabel, a man who has no shortage of chutzpah; and 2024's Exhibiting Forgiveness, from Titus Kaphar, whose chutzpah level is still being determined.

Kaphar's exploration of art and artistry centers on a young(ish) black artist, André Holland's Terrell, who finds success with a wealthy, white audience, while still deeply entangled in the emotional minefield that is his family. The film is beautifully shot and edited, slowly peeling back the layers of Terrell's childhood trauma while showing how it continues to echo through his life today.

The story plays out along parallel tracks, past and present, as Terrell desperately tries to work through his damage first through his art, then repression, and then rage, before finally resorting to talking about his feelings. The process feels true to life. Without spoiling any of the plot, Terrell had a bad childhood, due to mistreatment by his father and poor decisions by his mother. I mean, you could probably have guessed.

It's not the most groundbreaking story you'll see this year, but it's worth seeing. Holland is incredible, as is Andra Day as his wife, Aisha. Watching them descend further and further into Terrell's familial madness is oddly satisfying. As we, the audience, put the pieces of the story together, Terrell is also examining these same pieces with a newfound clarity, processing them at the same time. The dynamic between Aisha and Terrell is beautiful. It feels like a real, average, lived-in and stretched-out marriage, where people manage their love for each other, their own ambitions, and the everyday details of life. Their marriage is not epic, nor extraordinary, and that's maybe why it is so beautiful and resonant.

That average, everyday beauty is infused into all the relationships of Exhibiting Forgiveness, standing in contrast to Terrell's larger-than-life art (supplied by Kaphar). The push and pull of the very real, down-to-earth family drama is brought into stark relief toward the end, when we see Kaphar Terrell at his latest gallery show, growing increasingly impatient with upperclass twits who want to buy his art as either an investment or to match their sofa. The conflict comes to a head when a "patron" is talking to Terrell about purchasing one of his flagship pieces for his daughters, once again highlighting with negative space the relationship Terrell had/has with his own father.

I can only imagine that the dialog for the scene was drawn heavily from real-life conversations Kaphar has had (or wishes he had) with obtuse art "lovers," but even if it were directorial wish fulfillment, it was still lots of fun to watch. Overall, Exhibiting Forgiveness is not exactly fun, but it is satisfying and well worth your time.

PS: see if you can spot the Basquiat movie poster early in the first act.