Summary
- Personal connections add depth to Grassland, making it a powerful portrayal of the 2008 financial crisis.
- Characters in the film are nuanced and multi-dimensional, giving a delicate view of marijuana incarceration.
- Grassland may not be groundbreaking, but it sets the stage for a new generation of filmmakers to tackle social injustices.
Set against the peak of the 2008 financial crisis, Grassland is a memory of the toll that period took on people and is a crushing reminder of how little has changed. Directly in conversation with the criminal profiling that led and still leads to the mass incarceration of Black and Latinx individuals, the movie attempts to bring the audience into the discussion, and, for the most part, it succeeds. It’s easy to view the film through the lens of 2024 and draw swift comparisons between the violence onscreen and the violence seen in everyday life.
Directed by William Bermudez and Sam Friedman, the filmmakers are open about their personal connections to the story, and this personal touch shows. Grassland comes at an interesting time in cinema, as the people who came of age during the 2008 recession are just beginning to brush the dust off their experiences of that time. Suffice it to say, it’s vastly different from the parties and conspiracies of movies like The Big Short, which are so quick to forget the people who lost their homes, freedom, and lives. However, one aspect all these projects share is the inevitability of their conclusion.
Grassland Reads Less Like A Thriller, Leaning Toward Contemplation
The movie isn’t captured by the singularity of the thriller genre
Visually, the film tricks the audience with its nostalgic and inviting look. It’s through the eyes of a child that the viewer is invited into the story, and it’s a world that can hold equal amounts of terror and magic. Leo’s (Ravi Cabot-Conyers) mother, Sofia (Mía Maestro), is a drug dealer, but she’s hardly a criminal mastermind. She’s been hit hard by the economic downturn and wants to make money as quickly and cleanly as possible. From the perspective of 2024, her position seems obvious, as more and more U.S. states legalize marijuana.
However, this isn’t 2024, and Grassland is aware that outside and in the bubbles of legality, people are wrongfully persecuted. The 3:4 aspect ratio is surprising at first, but based on the aesthetics and themes of the movie, it’s clear the directors are intimately familiar with the work of Xavier Dolan. Fortunately, these stylistic choices don’t take us out of the film, effectively serving to draw them in. Due to the small cast, the visuals quickly become familiar, letting the performances shine. Though the social messages of the film are paramount, its story is decidedly character-driven.
I found myself getting lost in the imaginary world they escaped to while playing, even if these respites were only brief breaks from the underlying anxiety of the film.
Grassland asks a lot of Cabot-Conyers and Sean Convery, who play Leo and Tom, respectively, and they, especially Cabot-Conyers, live up to the high bar the story sets. I found myself getting lost in the imaginary world they escaped into while playing, even if these respites were only brief breaks from the underlying anxiety of the film. Brandon (Quincy Isaiah), is a faithful playmate to Leo and a friend to Sofia, and I could have watched a movie solely focused on this character and Isaiah’s performance. When his character fades out of focus, it’s easy to miss Brandon’s comfort.
It’s easy to despise John (Jeff Kober), whose arrival in the movie signals the beginning of the end to the tense equilibrium Sofia and Leo have cultivated. For a drug dealer, a cop moving in downstairs is the worst thing imaginable, and John easily lives up to the fear his job title strikes. However, Grassland refuses to paint a black-and-white picture of any character in the movie. John is the villain and antagonist, but his losses and struggles to fit into the changing world remind the audience that he isn’t a nameless, faceless entity, he’s a person.
Though It Treads Familiar Ground, Grassland Makes An Impact
If anything, we want more time to spend with the characters
If there’s an argument to be made against Grassland‘s story structure, it’s that the unavoidable end of the narrative flies too close to predictability. Nothing about the story is unique, and its pitfalls are all too familiar to American audiences who have seen the movie’s plot play out in real-time. The film’s point is this reliability, but it could have pushed further. This doesn’t mean more violence, as the moments when violence is utilized are perfectly timed for maximum impact, but the character’s choices don’t always go far enough.
There’s little doubt that audiences will see more of Bermudez and Friedman; this is only their beginning. With bigger budgets and resources at their disposal, the scope of injustices they can tackle will be limitless. However, in their ascent, it seems unlikely they’ll forget the importance of telling small stories, as they so easily turn out to be big ones. Grassland might not be revolutionary, but if it’s a signal of where the next generation of filmmakers is heading, we’re in safe hands.
Grassland premieres June 2nd at the Los Angeles Latino International Film Festival.
Grassland is a drama thriller centering on the perils of marijuana incarceration. The film was directed by William Bermudez and Sam Friedman and stars Jeff Kober, Rachel Ticotin, and Mía Maestro.
- William Bermudez and Sam Friedman share a personal connection to the story that makes it more powerful
- The characters have a lot of depth and nuance
- The film handles its subject matter delicately
- The ending is too predictable