Heavy hang the themes permeating Nadia Latif’s adaptation of Walter Mosley’s 2004 novel. Unlike the crime fiction that has proven so popular for the author, The Man in the Basement, while possessing some thriller-ish aspects, is more a book of ideas. Too many ideas, probably, since the fairly simple storylines touch on such themes as power dynamics, race relations, colonialism, guilt, redemption and more.
The film, co-written by Mosley and Latif, the latter making her feature directorial debut, faces the nearly impossible task of making all these ideas coherent — and only partially succeeds. But thanks to its powerful atmospherics and superb performances by its two leads Corey Hawkins and Willem Dafoe, the film should appeal to viewers looking for more intellectual fare upon its limited theatrical release before streaming later this year on Hulu.
The Man in My Basement
The Bottom Line
A shaky, if not uninteresting, proposition.
Venue: Toronto International Film Festival (Discovery)
Cast: Corey Hawkins, Willem Dafoe, Anna Diop, Jonathan Ajayi, Gershwyn Eustache Jr., Pamela Nomvete, Tamara Lawrence
Director: Nadia Latif
Screenwriters: Walter Mosley, Nadia Latif
Rated R,
1 hour 55 minutes
Set in the ‘90s in a Black neighborhood of the tony seaside village of Sag Harbor, the story revolves around Charles Blakely (Hawkins), who has settled into a life of dissolution after losing his bank job due to petty embezzlement. Drinking heavily, financially destitute, and living in the rundown house his family has owned for generations, he spends most of his free time playing cards with his friends Ricky (Jonathan Ajayi) and Clarence (Gershwyn Eustache Jr.).
His life takes a dramatic turn when a well-dressed stranger knocks on his door. The man introduces himself as Anniston Bennett (Dafoe), gives Charles his business card and makes a startling offer. He wants to rent Charles’ unfurnished basement for 65 days, promising $65,000 in cash, delivered in installments, as payment.
Charles initially turns him away but, faced with the possible loss of his home because of his inability to pay his mortgage, he contacts Anniston and accepts the offer. Soon, large packages are being delivered to the house. When the obviously well-heeled businessman shows up to begin his stay, he seems unruffled by the basement’s dank conditions.
And that’s when things get really strange. The next day, Charles brings Anniston breakfast, only to discover that he’s locked himself in a large metal cage he’s erected overnight. Horrified at the optics of a Black man keeping a white man prisoner in his basement, Charles nearly ends the arrangement but is finally persuaded to hold up his end of the deal.
“Call it a spiritual journey,” explains the enigmatic Anniston to the befuddled Charles, adding that he’s going to use the time to do “some reading, thinking, maybe a little writing.”
Meanwhile, Charles, who had discovered several African masks while cleaning out the basement, strikes up a friendship with a local antique dealer, Narciss (a very good Anna Diop, Nanny), who is so convinced of their historical importance that she proposes that, instead of selling them, she create a small museum centering on them and other artifacts in his home.
The encounters between Charles and the mysterious man locked up in his basement, alternately genial and tense and eventually deeply disturbing, form the crux of the film. Hawkins and Dafoe play off each other superbly, the power dynamics shifting as the psychically unraveling Charles begins using coercive methods to force his captive to reveal secrets shedding light on his motivations for the self-induced imprisonment (none of which prove very convincing).
The problem is that the allegory-laden storyline doesn’t play out realistically, nor does it fully satisfy on thematic terms. Unlike, say, Leave the World Behind, which similarly contained weighty ideas in its suspense-driven, apocalyptic storyline, The Man in the Basement proves plodding in its story dynamics. By the time it concludes with a lengthy quote from The Wretched of the Earth, Fritz Fanon’s classic psychological study of the dehumanizing effects of colonization, it has long since started to feel like a thesis in search of a plot.
Nonetheless, the film proves at least somewhat compelling, with director Latif providing enough tension and chilling visuals to keep viewers engaged. Hawkins draws us in throughout, unafraid to make Charles’ fragility palpable. And Dafoe, an actor who’s always excelled at playing off-kilter figures, keeps us guessing about the soft-spoken but steely Anniston, who seems intent on paying for not only his sins but those of oppressors in general.
