Before winning their respective Oscars, filmmakers like Damien Chazelle, Barry Jenkins, and Christopher Nolan had one thing in common. They all made their directorial debut in black-and-white. Instead of letting it feel like a limitation, this creative choice actually gave their films a uniquely charming quality. Marcellus Cox’s Mickey Hardaway exudes a similar charm with its monochrome and soft lighting.
The film primarily follows a black man, Mickey (played by Rashad Hunter), who is passionate about visual art. Since his childhood, he has aspired to be an artist. But his father never approved of his passion. He did not want Mickey to fail in life by pursuing a highly volatile profession. But Mickey is a sensitive idealist who doesn’t particularly care about art as a profession. He only wants to keep creating art because he likes it and is good at it. However, the unresolved trauma of Mickey’s father’s strict parenting still haunts him in adulthood. As a result, he meets a therapist to share his qualms and frustrations. He finally decides to open up and get some things off his chest. It includes a part of his childhood when a teacher motivated him to learn and improve his art skills. There is also a white businessman who offers Mickey an incredible professional chance. Furthermore, there’s his relationship with a woman he adored and found comfort in.
Throughout Mickey Hardaway, you can sense that the filmmaker behind the lens has his heart in the right place. There is an earnest intention to create a film that speaks about generational trauma, racial prejudices, substance abuse, and artists’ exploitation, among other themes. The story has these potent themes spread across its duration. However, it suffers from an undercooked screenplay.
Dialogues are easily Mickey Hardaway’s weakest aspect. They seem superficial and feel more like parts of an amateur first draft. The actors sometimes sound too mechanical because of the conversations, which rarely feel like human interactions. Many times, they state the obvious. They refuse to allow any uncomfortable silences to linger between the characters or let their mere presence carry emotional weight in a scene. Instead, the characters specifically say things that are often between the lines. Additionally, the sound recording lacks the refined quality of most debut films. The final mix isn’t too bad since the film’s necessary elements are audible. But the sound does seem deliberately old-school (which might have to do with some on-ground constraints). Fortunately, some of these creative decisions do not limit the film’s emotional impact.
The film advocates for an open flow of communication for a person to grow without any psychological burden or restraints. Yet, it seems almost afraid to rely on its cinematic tools besides the dialogue. I am all in for dialogue-driven films until they keep the film’s mystery intact without explaining every possible subtext. Unfortunately, Mickey Hardaway fails at making its interactions feel organic. This is particularly unfortunate since the film has some promising elements. The actors seem to care about its central themes, which have been relevant for decades. Rashad Hunter & Ashley Parchment seem like capable actors who can communicate the subtext through non-verbal cues. However, despite their well-meaning, moderately effective performances, and lovely chemistry, the film falls short. At times, you can also sense these actors trying too hard to make the dialogue sound plausible. Despite these flaws, Mickey Hardaway serves as a cautionary tale about the result of unchecked emotions. If only the film had refused to be a lesson, it could have been far more compelling.
Mickey Hardaway movie links: IMDB, letterboxd
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