Movie Review ~ The Piano Lesson (2024)

The ghosts of American theater have long haunted our silver screens, their stories too rich to remain on stage.  From the brooding dramas of Tennessee Williams to Eugene O’Neill’s searing family portraits of disillusionment and, finally, Arthur Miller’s critical analysis of the white American working class, filmmakers have been bringing these works and more to audiences, expanding the world of the characters when they do. Now, August Wilson’s Pulitzer Prize-winning play The Piano Lesson joins their ranks with a fresh adaptation that proves some stories grow richer with each retelling.

Opening in select theaters on November 8 before its Netflix debut on November 22, this masterwork comes to the big screen, marking the assured directorial debut of Malcolm Washington. He transforms Wilson’s discourse on legacy and memory into a haunting visual symphony that honors its theatrical roots while carving a singular cinematic path.  Stripping back layers to reveal new truths, this tale of family, memory, and defiance invites the audience to reflect on their history while witnessing the ghosts from another legacy return as a reminder of their sacrifice.  It shines as brightly as it did when it first premiered, boasting a cast led by Samuel L. Jackson, Danielle Deadwyler, and John David Washington, who take up the challenging and, at times, intensely lyrical roles.

A battle is brewing in the Charles household. At the center stands a piano, which isn’t just a musical instrument but, through Wilson’s mountainous storytelling, is symbolic of an heirloom tearing two siblings apart. Boy Willie (John David Washington, Beckett) arrives in Depression-era Pittsburgh with dreams of selling this inheritance to buy land, viewing it as a stepping stone to economic freedom. His sister Berniece (Deadwyler, The Devil to Pay) refuses to part with what she considers sacred history made manifest. At the same time, their uncle Doaker (Samuel L. Jackson, The Hateful Eight) tries to mediate as tensions rise, but he can’t even keep the ghosts of their past at bay.  As outside forces that flicker on the fringe of the supernatural gather around their dispute, each family member must confront how the weight of history shapes their present choices.

Wilson, who died in 2005, was highly regarded for his ever-evolving work that detailed the black experience from a modern lens while contextualizing it through the roots of African culture.  His two Pulitzer Prize wins (for Fences and The Piano Lesson) may have been his most intimate and immediate, but there’s something in all ten plays within The Pittsburgh Cycle that demands your attention and holds you firm in its grasp.  As it goes with most artists who are ahead of their time, as Wilson certainly was, the playwright has achieved his most high-profile acclaim after his passing, and it’s primarily due to Denzel Washington and, now, his children.   Apart from Malcom directing and John David starring, Denzel produced The Piano Lesson along with his daughter, Katia.

The film benefits enormously from its exceptional cast, many recently appearing in the acclaimed Broadway revival directed by LaTanya Richardson Jackson, Samuel L. Jackson’s wife. Jackson was part of the original Broadway run of The Piano Lesson in the 1990s, covering the role of Boy Willie, and here he embodies Doaker with a quiet authority and a weary wisdom.  Serving as the family’s living memory is a change of pace for Jackson, and while it’s a welcome shift for the often fiery actor, you find yourself wishing he had one or two scenes that show off his full strength in the role.  The current Boy Willie, John David Washington, captures the character’s desperate ambition with an explosive energy that can hardly contain his determination to make something better for his life.

Deadwyler, one of the notable newcomers to the ensemble, matches her castmates’ intensity beat for beat, infusing Berniece with steely resolve and carefully contained grief that speaks volumes in silence.  While she’s been around for a while in film and television, Deadwyler is often treated as a new face, but it shouldn’t come as a surprise at this point that she’s an enormous force to be reckoned with and, as usual, she delivers all the role requires and much more.  All three leads are well-supported by a terrific Erykah Badu (What Men Want), Ray Fisher (Zak Snyder’s Justice League), and Corey Hawkins (In the Heights), but Michael Potts (Rustin) as Winning Boy practically leaps off the screen with a robust performance.  As he did with his pivotal role in 2020’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (another Wilson adaptation for Netflix), Potts creates a special magic with his character that keeps your eyes glued to him, whether front and center or hanging around the background.

Washington, who co-wrote the script with Virgil Williams, steers this story with sensitivity, honoring Wilson’s sharp, compassionate examination of identity and resilience, and who truly has the right to define a family’s legacy.  There is a remarkable maturity in his directorial choices, finding fresh angles on familiar spaces while maintaining the play’s essential tension. Where the 1994 television adaptation felt constrained by its medium, this version breathes cinematic life into the 35 year old text. Michael Gioulakis’s camera moves purposefully through the Charles household, occasionally venturing outside to add perspective without diminishing the story’s necessary intimacy. In one chilling sequence, the supernatural presence of the family’s ancestors manifests a haunting visual (which I won’t spoil) that amplifies the weight of their history.

Production designer David J. Bomba adds pertinent touches to the primary apartment setting, with period details that extend beyond mere decoration to reflect the family’s complex relationship with their past.  You can almost feel the starch collars and sweat of the day in Francine Jamison-Tanchuck’s lived-in costumes. Alexandre Desplat’s hauntingly exquisite score (does he ever do anything other than perfection?) amplifies the supernatural elements without overwhelming them.  It’s a tricky line to walk anytime you involve spirits because not every culture and community regards them as the fearsome entities they are often portrayed as.  The filmmakers understand this and have made wise artistic decisions to reinforce the potent atmosphere they aimed to create.

While the film occasionally reveals its theatrical origins through dialogue-heavy exchanges, these moments feel less like limitations and more like the intentional preservation of Wilson’s magnificent language. Washington’s direction maintains a delicate balance between stage and screen, allowing audiences to appreciate the craft of Wilson’s writing and the story’s inherent tensions.  Anytime a child of a formidable celebrity makes a move to establish themselves, there is a sense of needing to step outside the looming shadow of their parent.  There’s no hint of that here, as Malcolm’s confident directing demonstrates.

Resonating with clarity on what we choose to carry forward and what we are forced to leave behind, The Piano Lesson is more than just a stage-to-screen adaptation. It is an artifact of storytelling left behind by an author with enduring power. Through Washington’s lens, exploring progress and preservation finds new urgency without sacrificing the intimacy essential to understanding Wilson’s intent. The stellar ensemble, confident direction, and thoughtful technical elements combine to create a rare stage-to-screen adaptation that honors its source while finding its own voice.