Revisiting Eve's Bayou
On beautiful film and Black women directors
It’s the 100th anniversary of Black History Month. What started out as a week turned into a month of celebrating African Americans and their contributions, achievements, and role in U.S. History. Although this should always be acknowledged, I’m happy there’s a month dedicated to it.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that in its 100-year celebration, Black history is under threat now more than ever. It’s being erased from museums, websites, and history books. Ironically, I never felt I was taught “real” Black History growing up. It always felt like you had to go outside of the system to find the truth. But what little we were taught is still considered a threat.
It has honestly been hard to feel positive about anything lately. To make jokes when things feel bleak. To feel heard in the sea of rage bait and algorithms. But I recently felt a stroke of inspiration upon rewatching one of my favorite films—Eve’s Bayou written and directed by Kasi Lemmons. And I can’t think of a better time to revisit this film.
I had a fascination with this movie as a kid. My mom said it would come on TV, and I was glued to it, so she let me watch it. Although this film stars a young Jurnee Smollett and Meagan Good, I wouldn’t say it was made for children. The tone is quite unique, though; there are some comedic family moments in between the deep family drama. But when I re-watched it, much older, it made me laugh how on-brand this movie was for me. I knew exactly why I was drawn to it was a kid. I’ve always been drawn to fabulous women, the mysteriousness of New Orleans, and I’m sure I saw myself in Jurnee Smollett’s Eve, who not only looked like me, but had the power of clairvoyance that I liked to pretend I had.
Mild spoilers are discussed below.
Eve’s Bayou is a story about boundaries being crossed and the weight that women and children bear as a result. Not only does it star and center Black people, but it was written and directed by a Black woman, which is still a rare feat. The beauty of Eve’s Bayou is what happens when an artist with a specific story to tell is trusted to tell it. A story told with nuance, love, care, and experience. This was Kasi Lemmons’ feature directorial debut, and she knocked it out of the park.
I recently watched the director’s cut of the movie, which includes a character that was cut out of the film in the theatrical version. It adds another layer to the truth of what happens between Cisely and Louis Batiste—only this character knows what really happened. It adds complexity and ambiguity to the ending. I’m surprised it ended up being cut, but I think it was cut for that very reason. I recommend checking out this version if you’re able.
I have the Criterion version of the movie, so not only did I recently watch the movie, but I watched all the supplements that came along with it. One thing that Eve’s Bayou is allauded for is its beautiful depiction of Black people. Not only was it shot beautifully (the director Kasi Lemmons mentioned she storyboarded the whole film, which is quite rare), but it also centered on wealthy Black people. They were elegant and threw fabulous parties. Their story was not one of financial struggle. It was released in 1997, and it was rare at the time to see wealthy Black people depicted in film, especially from the South. Shoot, it’s still kind of scarce!
Kasi Lemmons mentioned that in the opening scene, Debbi Morgan, who plays Mozelle Batiste, wears a beautiful dress at the party. Someone (white) gave feedback to Kasi, saying it was unbelievable that a Black woman would own that dress. Little did that person know, it was the dress of their Black line producer’s mother—so a Black woman did in fact own that dress and it was being borrowed for the shoot. Kasi mentioned that moments like that were an infuriating part of making the film. This story was inspired by her family, and this is how they were, and many found it unfathomable that a Black family could live this way.
The composer of the film, Terrence Blanchard, mentioned that it was a big deal to see Southern Black people depicted this way, too. Although The Cosby Show existed, it felt very separate from how Black southern people lived, and felt unrelatable to some. This was a new lens for the South.
One of my favorite things about the Criterion supplements for Eve’s Bayou is that it has a 25th anniversary Zoom recording with Jurnee Smollett, Meagan Good, Lynn Whitfield, Kasi Lemmons, and Terrence Blanchard. Lynn Whitfield mentioned that when she made this film, it was a lesson in restraint. There were so many times she said she wanted her character to cuss out Samuel L. Jackson’s character. She said she was interpreting it as a modern woman and just wanted to let him have it. Kasi often pulled her back.
Lynn Whitfield mentioned that the film taught her to trust her eyes and that the story/what she’s thinking will come through. She said she can tell her work apart pre and post Eve’s Bayou because that set really taught her about the moments between the words. I loved hearing that, because that is the biggest difference between acting for the stage and film to me. Film is all about the eyes. You have the ability to direct the audience’s gaze to the character’s eyes or to the moments we might miss. It’s incredibly powerful. It was a great reminder as an actor—your eyes do a lot of the work for you. Don’t push.
Lynn Whitfield also mentioned that there’s a scene where her character, Roz, tells Cisely essentially that she is not the woman of the house. She puts her in her place. In that scene, Roz is waiting up for her husband in a chair near a stormy window. Cisely comes downstairs to wait for her dad to come home and is surprised to stumble upon her mom sitting there. In the scene, Roz tells Cisely not to wait up for her father anymore and puts her foot down, but as she delivers her lines, Cisely is behind her. Roz essentially delivers the lines away from Cisely. It paints a dramatic portrait by the stormy window, and you feel the impact of the moment.
Lynn Whitfield mentioned she wanted to deliver those lines directly to Meagan Good. She thought it made more sense to get in her face a bit, but she had to trust Kasi, who had an image of what she wanted and what would be more powerful. Lynn Whitfield said when she saw the final cut, she realized how brilliant that moment was and the impact that it had.
I love that story because it speaks to Kasi Lemmons’ brilliance as a director and to the power of images. As I find myself more interested in directing, I’m more and more fascinated by the decision of how images impact the story. Kasi Lemmons knew a restrained delivery, away from each other, would feel more tense than a face to face stand off between this mother and daughter. I want to get to that level.
Black women directors rarely get their flowers or are mentioned in the conversation of “women directors,” and Eve’s Bayou is a fine example of the lens of a Black woman. It’s hard for me to explain, but there is an emotion behind the lens when a woman directs. A different kind of empathy. And Kasi Lemmons expands that empathy to every character. She does not shame or begrudge the men in the film, but explores the toll taken on women when their heroes let them down. There’s love, not objectification. There’s nuance, not judgment. There’s beauty, not ugliness, within what might be an “ugly” story. There are moments of fine writing and monologuing, not moments of “Black people don’t speak this way.”
Kasi Lemmons is an actor, writer, and director, and went on to direct the Oscar-nominated Harriet and the Whitney Houston biopic Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody, but how many times have you heard her name? During the Golden Globes, I couldn’t help but notice the jokes that many white actresses/comedians made about men dominating the award season. White women are always making jokes about being left out of spaces men occupy (mind you, white women are nominated every year for awards), but I couldn’t help but think they never carry that same energy for Black women.
I didn’t see white women banding around Hedda, and for Nia DaCosta to be nominated or championing Tessa Thompson’s performance. That had a woman director and two powerhouse women leads. I didn’t see that energy for Cynthia Erivo last year or this year. I honestly don’t even see them championing Chloé Zhao, who is only the second woman in history to win the Oscar for Best Director.
Let them tell it, Greta Gerwig is the only director that exists.
I want better.
Some movies directed by Black women I think you should check out are Drylongso, The Watermelon Woman, Hedda (duh), Love & Basketball, Killing Time (short film), Feathers (short film), and On The Come Up. What are some of your favorite films directed by Black women?
Also, before I leave, I must take a moment for Diahann Caroll. Her Elzora was scary, but at times humorous. Her being down to clown in the intense makeup as this role makes me smile.
In this trying time, I cling to art. It’s the only thing that keeps me going. Eve’s Bayou is a movie full of tension, blurred lines, beautiful images, and fabulous Black women. I highly recommend.
Happy Monday! Go make art! This publication is free, but if you’d like to donate to me, please click the button below.
Cheers,
Paige Elson