Nickel Boys is a film directed by RaMell Ross and adapted from the book by Colson Whitehead. The film tells its story visually and audibly through the perspective of its main characters, something reminiscent of Son of Saul which won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film in 2015. Advances in camera technology make such technical feats more possible, and at first, the filmmaker seems eager to showcase this prowess—sometimes to a fault.
One striking example is a scene where the protagonist’s reflection appears in an iron as his grandmother presses a shirt. It’s a subtle and impressive way to introduce us to the main character, but the repetition—seeing the boy reflected multiple times—dilutes its impact. We get it. Well done. The technique begins to feel more like a gimmick than a meaningful storytelling device.
I had hoped this POV approach would elevate the story, but it was often distracting. One-third into the film, the perspective shifts to the second main character, and a key scene is replayed from their point of view. Technically impressive? Sure. But instead of drawing me deeper into the narrative, it pulled me out, making me more aware of the filmmaker’s cleverness than the story’s emotional weight. Similarly, when the camera closely follows the protagonist as an adult, from behind, tracking his every move, it felt less like cinema and more like a video game—something out of Grand Theft Auto.
Ultimately, that’s the core issue. The film often prioritizes technique over emotional resonance. That’s why the scenes with the grandmother stand out so powerfully: there’s no artifice, just actress Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor delivering a heartfelt, standout performance as the angelic “Nana” character, stealing every scene she’s in.
Yet beneath the artistic flourishes lies a story of deep historical significance. Nickel Boys exposes the horrific treatment of Black youth in the U.S., particularly in reform schools that were meant to “discipline” but instead destroyed lives. The film sheds light on a shameful chapter of American history—one that is often overlooked or sanitized—and forces viewers to confront its brutality.
Technically, the film also experiments with editing, blending amongst other things archival footage of the atrocities at the school, images from outer space, Martin Luther King Jr. speeches, and film clips featuring stars like Sidney Poitier and Harry Belafonte. This gives the overall film an abstract, almost avant-garde quality—something you might expect to see in an art gallery rather than a conventional narrative film.
While undeniably intriguing and centered on an important subject, Nickel Boys suffers from a slow pace and a lack of emotional depth. For its bold use of POV—sometimes effective, sometimes distracting—and its weighty themes, I’d give it a 7/10. But be prepared for a slow, cerebral experience—think The Tree of Life meets Son of Saul.
One Response
Your perspective on this film is very interesting to read, Julian. I completely agree with you on that, “[The execution] gives the overall film an abstract, almost avant-garde quality—something you might expect to see in an art gallery rather than a conventional narrative film.” With this in mind, I think that reviewing this film purely/mostly from a conventional perspective does not give it its well-deserved recognition as both a film and an artistic piece.
Watching Nickel Boys yesterday reminded me of an exhibition at the A.G.O, a year or so ago, that focused on black livelihoods. This exhibition was so well done, exploring ideas around community, identity, black joy and the continuing struggle under oppressive systems. Some of the videos would take you through a journey that explored all of these, and they were dense, but very effective at showcasing the complexities of the black experience.
That’s exactly what Nickel Boys felt like to me in its execution. It wasn’t simply a historical drama, but more of an artistic conversation piece from the lens of experiences around the Arthur G. Dozier School for Boys. I really liked how the film explored the home, the political context, and life within the school. Black identity. Resilience. Anti-black racism. Oppression.
While it is true that the film is a lot to take in, which makes it hard to process some scenes, and that some of these seem drawn out, I think that the scenes do a great job to invite you into the experience of what you are seeing emotionally and physically. The film does require interacting with, the same way that art does.