A family home filled with heirlooms — and secrets and ghosts — frequently makes for a good storytelling metaphor. But the home in “The Man in My Basement,” based on Walter Mosley’s 2004 novel of the same name, is overflowing with all those things. Streamlined a little, it would have made for a rich text. But as it is, it’s too much to wade through.
The story, set in the mid-1990s, centers on Charles Blakey (a reliably excellent Corey Hawkins), the eighth generation to live in an old but well-preserved home in the historically African American community of Sag Harbor on eastern Long Island. (The film points out this heritage early by way of an establishing town sign.) It’s a lovely house: large and full of antique furniture, with beautiful stained-glass windows and a roomy stand-up basement. Charles is the last of the Blakeys, and has been living in the house since his beloved mother and less-beloved uncle died a few years before. Without a job, he’s behind on mortgage payments — presumably the house was mortgaged to pay some other bills — and distant relatives are no longer willing to loan money.
So Charles becomes intrigued by the possibility of selling off the house’s contents to a local dealer, Narciss Gully (Anna Diop), who is fascinated by all the items. She’s especially interested in some masks that she believes could confirm theories she has long held about the early African settlers of the area. But any money from the pieces that interested her would take a long time to come in.
Meanwhile, a very weird white man named Anniston Bennet (Willem Dafoe), who claims to be from Greenwich, Conn., shows up on Charles’s doorstep, asking to rent his basement and offering a staggering sum of money. Anniston’s proposition seems bizarre to Charles. But what does he really have to lose?
Mosley co-wrote the screenplay with the film’s director, Nadia Latif, for whom this is a feature debut; she’s largely worked in theater. That background shows most clearly in the scenes between Charles and Anniston, whose relationship quickly morphs into something Charles could never have anticipated, albeit with a racial component the audience could have guessed from the start. Theater often centers on conversation as an exploration of power, almost like a boxing match, with each line a parry trying to land a blow. You can feel that dynamic develop, and because Hawkins and Dafoe are both fine theater actors, it’s interesting to watch.
Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.
Thank you for your patience while we verify access.
Already a subscriber? Log in.
Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
The post ‘The Man in My Basement’ Review: A Prison of His Own Making appeared first on New York Times.
