Directed by Barry Jenkins
Written by Barry Jenkins, Jihan Crowther, Jacqueline Hoyt, Nathan Parker, Allison Davis, and Adrienne Rush
Starring Thuso Mbedu, Chase Dillon, Aaron Pierre, Sheila Atim, Joel Edgerton, and William Jackson Harper
10 hourlong episodes
All episodes streaming on Amazon Prime.starting May 14

by Ashley Jane Davis and Jaime Davis

“Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.” - Homer, The Odyssey

It’s hard to describe Barry Jenkins’ latest masterwork - an adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s 2016 historical fiction novel The Underground Railroad - mostly because both the book and series on which it’s based defy convention. Many have called Whitehead’s book a pure example of magical realism, while some scholars contend it’s in an as-yet-unnamed category all its own. No matter how it’s described, The Underground Railroad is one of the most remarkable things ever beheld in any medium.

Indeed, the story is a bold take, using slavery as the lens for dissecting the long-standing ills that institutional racism have wrought for centuries. Our hero Cora (Thuso Mbedu) is haunted by her mother’s escape from the only home Cora’s known–the plantation they live and work on in Georgia. Their masters are particularly cruel, taking pleasure in the regular public humiliation and torture of their “property” for the most mundane of reasons. Pushed to the brink, Caesar (Aaron Pierre), a fellow slave, encourages Cora to escape with him–Caesar is literate and believes neither he nor Cora belong in such a place. He makes contact with an abolitionist who will usher them to the underground railroad, which Whitehead (and Jenkins) both depict as an actual running train below ground (despite what we know to be true). The two manage to get away except for an unfortunate altercation that leaves a white man dead. Cora and Caesar are now more than just two escaped slaves on the run - they’re wanted for one of the most egregious crimes a Black person could commit during that time. They find themselves hunted by the skilled slave catcher Ridgeway (Joel Edgerton) and his assistant, a young Black child named Homer (Chase Dillon) as they flee to what at first seems like a Black utopia in South Carolina, forced to seek refuge in a fundamentalist Christian commune in North Carolina, later dragged through Tennessee, before absconding to a Black farming community in Indiana.

Throughout Cora’s journey, Whitehead deftly takes liberties with the past, using a variety of historical references irrespective of time and accuracy to frame Cora’s predicaments while also threading literary mentions throughout - Caesar’s love of Gulliver’s Travels, his quoting of Homer’s The Odyssey to Cora during a particularly fraught moment, the child literally named Homer who catches slaves despite the color of his own skin. Jenkins takes on the challenges of adapting and representing Whitehead’s undefined tropes with so much beauty. Nearly every element within his Underground Railroad feels deliberate and attuned, from the phenomenal performances to the eerily gorgeous score, to the cinematography that makes your eyes want to weep, to the distinct pacing and unique editing choices that put this “television show” into a category all its own.

Because of this, we had a difficult time deciding how we wanted to position this review, and decided it might be best to just talk out how we’re feeling post-watch. Here’s a round-up of our thoughts.

Jaime: The first episode was probably the most difficult for me to watch, because the depictions of Cora’s plantation life are some of the most brutal I’ve ever seen. I really wasn’t sure how we would get through additional episodes. But I feel the show really builds on that and you get extremely sucked into the momentum of it all. What do you think?

Ashley Jane: Yes, I totally agree. After that first episode, I couldn’t stop crying. I reminded myself of Barry Jenkins saying in the press conference that we don’t stay in Georgia too long, and I was really looking forward to seeing Cora and Caesar escape. In this story, the escape from the plantation is only the beginning. I was floored the first time we see “the railroad”, how about you.

Jaime: Me too! I was initially confused, because I went into watching this fairly blind. I kept thinking, “Am I missing something? Was Porsha from Real Housewives of Atlanta right when she asked how they got the train down there?” This was just our first foray into the more fantastical elements of Whitehead’s story and Jenkins’ sensitive, thoughtful treatment of it. Once Cora and Caesar escape Georgia and get to South Carolina, I felt a sense of relief. Until…

Ashley Jane: The relief did not last long. As soon as we enter this new “wonderland” of South Carolina, there is a major feeling that something is not right. I will say, I really appreciated every instance where Black folks were able to have moments of happiness, like in the scene at the dance. In his films, Barry Jenkins always tenderly depicts his characters’ feelings of joy, even under heartbreaking circumstances, and this is no exception. But it was very apparent that the escape from the plantation was not the escape from the atrocious treatment of Black people. I found that the score (which I loveeee) did the same work. Even in the beautiful moments, there is a pain - perhaps a shift to a minor chord where you wouldn’t expect it, to remind us that there is so much more to come.

Jaime: There is SO much more to come! With every step, whether willingly or forced, Cora’s journey is so compelling - by episode three I didn’t want to turn away. I can see why Amazon is making all eps available from the start because they build in such a way that you’re hooked, but I wish one episode was dropped per week so we could really settle in and have a think before jumping into the next one. Like, I wanted a whole week just to process the complexity of Homer’s character, a free Black child who appears to hold little regard for other Black people. And the child actor who plays him is just too, too good in this role which is a whole other thing to think about.

Ashley Jane: Yep, I know what you mean. I still find myself reflecting on each episode and I think extra time to do so would really let things sink in more deeply. However, it is so easy to get pulled in, especially because of the amazing acting. Essentially, everyone is amazing in their roles. I think of one scene in particular - where Cora is speaking out as if her mother was there - and the range of Thuso Mbedu, expressing pain, anger, sadness, and outpouring love, all in a matter of a few seconds, is something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

Jaime: I totally agree - Thuso Mbedu has to travel so many different emotional paths, and the way she does it all is captivating. I’m in awe of her performance, and the entire series, basically.

The Underground Railroad is not always easy to swallow but that’s also entirely the point. The beauty of what Jenkins has done to honor Whitehead’s stunning literary work is a true feat in and of itself. The adaptation, like its source, defies categorization. While this can be disconcerting at times, the show is a true must-see and one of the most glorious pieces of television perhaps ever produced.