Review Of The Film Fences
Fences is a 2016 drama film starring and directed by Denzel Washington, based on the 1987 play written by August Wilson. The film follows a 53-year-old black man, Troy Maxson, in 1950s Pittsburgh who struggles to support his family as a waste collector. Instead of supporting his sons’ dreams, Troy is trapped by his past failures, which causes tension with his sons and his entire family. Troy’s inability to accept other people’s personal decisions do not coincide well with his way of thought, which incites conflict. The film uses the motif of Fences to exemplify keeping certain things in — and out, whether it be in the actual film or in the making of it.
The film's title is aimed towards the genuine fence Troy, played by Washington himself, works on all throughout the film, completing it near the end. Troy sees the fence as a purposeful anecdote to ward off the Grim Reaper, but his significant other, Rose—played by Viola Davis—thinks that walls keep certain things out, yet more essentially, they keep the things we need inside. The analogy of the metaphorical fences in our lives that keep undesirable things out and required things in, applies not exclusively to the plot and the importance of the story, but to the film itself.
Viola Davis brings to the fore a fundamental balancing out factor for the typical family, a stay at home wife who accepts the fake love from her husband who has committed adultery. There is certainly not a frail in the cast, but Davis’ strong charisma stands out with her aggressive attitude and warm empathy. Be that as it may, Davis’ character, Rose, additionally gives redemptive compromises against our profoundly defective hero, whose dealings with race, duty, and extreme repercussions that plague him until the day he dies
As a director, Washington realizes that the greatest star in this film is its composition, there being no need to change the dialogue of the play and go outside the box. At the point when a film has on-screen characters focused on addressing their lines, to the point where it appears they are turning themselves back to front with distress. Fences is more dominant for the commitment of the performing artists' specialty. At the point when Viola Davis, who plays Troy's wife, Rose, is demonstrating to you how hard her heart is breaking, the camera shouldn't seek your consideration. The camera is in every case precisely where it should be—it is with them, tuning in as eagerly as we in the audience may be.
Washington's directing focuses on the inborn trouble of making an adequate film out of a seriously eloquent play, which seemed as if he wanted to keep the film simple, but focus largely on dialogue rather than the cinematography. The rule of thirds was a common occurrence throughout the film, especially during intense scenes. By remaining as valid as conceivable to the discourse, scene structure, and individual expressiveness of the first Fences in front of an audience, Washington wound up making an evenhanded, staccato film that has an absence of dynamic cinematography and aesthetic articulation. The story may not be incredible, but the story was told incredibly.
In this period of complicated, race relations in our nation, the film itself, which is completely about African-American substances in midcentury pre-Civil Rights time America, inhales prophetic importance and investigation into the battles that every single person, regardless of their race, must experience. In that sense, Fences lights up life itself. It's an indefinable credit to this play, this crossroads in our nation's history, and now, even this film itself, how well it addresses that impactful inquiry and adds to the comprehension of our identity and what life– what living life– truly implies.
