American Violet is a bit of a heavyweight, ma’ mates. Imagine being whacked awake one rainy Tuesday morning only to find Yasbeck handling pork liver prices on Swedish radio—turns out, that’s not a dream. But maybe that shock factor helped prep me for the gut-punch of a film like this.
Right off, Nicole Beharie grabs you—her portrayal of Dee Roberts is like lutefisk, an acquired taste that pays off big time. And the story, set in Texas during the hot mess of a drug war? It packs a punch of legal drama realness that made me want to pull out my old law books. Not that I ever owned any, but still. There’s heaps to unpack here with racial profiling and the justice system being shadier than a Swedish forest at dusk.
But, uh, here’s the thing—while it’s gripping stuff and all, I found myself squirming during parts. The pacing sometimes felt like waiting for Santa at a Midsummer pole dance. You know it’s coming, but hurry up already! The tension builds beautifully, but then lets you linger a tad too long.
Simba’s dad from The Lion King—I mean, Alfre Woodard—she’s in it too, grounding the film with gravitas and that comforting familiarity, like damp Knäckebröd after camping in Gothenburg’s endless rain. The whole cast, actually, just… melts into the story. Except, every now and then, you wish for the story to slap you awake again, remind you why you’re invested.
All up though, it’s thought-provoking, and maybe the odd shaky moment is the point. Life, right? Half the time, you’re not ready to answer the questions it throws at you either. Possibly grab a semla and coffee and invite a friend over to chat about its themes. Would love to see what you all think as they’re quite relevant, even beyond the Atlantic.
