Origin is not a straightforward adaptation of the 2020 book Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson, which proposed the idea that caste systems are to blame for global forms of inequality. It's technically the story of Wilkerson herself (portrayed by Aunjane Ellis) as she embarked on writing that text. Reeling from endless horrific personal tragedies, Wilkerson begins a globe-trotting exercise that takes her everywhere from Germany to India to a BBQ hosted by her cousin Marion (Niecy Nash-Betts) to explore how inequality festers. With this project, writer/director Ava DuVernay is looking at parallels between historical atrocities as well as making something deeply intimate...how do we keep going in the wake of turmoil? When we lose people close to us, how does that void get filled?
There's a lot of heavy material in Origin, with DuVernay's grasp sometimes exceeding her reach. Her script especially struggles to figure out when the on-screen images should do all the talking. Expository narration from Wilkerson often dominates visually striking glimpses of the past, a move done to potentially make this material more accessible to audiences unfamiliar with the history of countries like India or Germany. However, many of these lines (like Wilkerson's remark that two students in 1930s Germany had "stumbled onto something momentous") aren't clarifying impenetrable details of the past. They're just saying things that could easily be communicated through camera angles or music cues. Speaking of dialogue, there's also an odd habit in the writing of having figures like Wilkerson recite staggering horrific historical facts (like the number of deaths stemming from the slave trade), but in a "cheer-worthy" manner. The mere stating of the truth is meant to be akin to the big crowdpleaser moments from a Star Wars or Marvel movie. It's a rhythm evocative of John Oliver's "mic-drop" moments on Last Week Tonight, where he condemns some horrific atrocity and the crowd applauds approvingly. That dynamic doesn't really translate to film, particularly one as somber and grounded as Origin.
DuVernay's always had a knack for powerful images dating back to her indie works like Middle of Nowhere and that gift is clearly present throughout Origin. It's just a shame those images are often undercut by extraneous narration. DuVernay's script also would've benefited from just going all-in on being a three-hour epic (the feature already runs for 135 minutes) just to give the various personal problems in Wilkerson's life more room to breathe. The increasingly dire health struggles of Marion are especially underserved by how much material Origin is trying to juggle in just one movie. Niecy Nash-Betts is so compelling in her on-screen performance as Marion and she has fantastic believable chemistry with Aunjanue Ellis. Those feats just make it more disappointing that this character's medical problems just keep fading in and out of the runtime. A lengthier runtime could've given this and other personal aspects of Wilkerson's life a better chance to develop.
Origin does struggle as a screenwriting exercise, but it's far from a lost cause as a movie. For starters, DuVernay and cinematographer Matthew J. Lloyd make this independent production look incredibly crisp by shooting the proceedings on 16mm film. There's a deeply lived-in quality to the images of Origin thanks to this choice and that classical filming detail especially helps the period-era sequences feel extra authentic. DuVernay also executes her script with some truly inspired visual flourishes, such as a scene of a distraught Wilkerson trying to get herself "presentable" that's captured without dialogue, from Wilkerson's hip, and at a tilted upward angle. Every detail of the camera's presence in this scene is rich with fascinating details, including the decision to use a low-angle shot (typically used to indicate formidable characters awash with power) on a deeply vulnerable person who can barely contain her tears. Origin's script may often stumble, but its visuals are unquestionably sublime.
Unfortunately, those sharp filmmaking sensibilities are also often in the service of images that, unfortunately, aren't as distinctive as they could be. Origin is ultimately still enamored with depictions of Black teens getting shot, Indians in lower-economic classes trudging through human defecation, and Nazi men in love with Jewish women. These events and tragedies have obviously happened throughout the history of human history, which explains why they're also very common sights in period pieces or features contemplating global depictions of prejudice. For its epic scope, Origin's greatest shortcomings are that it struggles to expand the visual language of the suffering of the marginalized on-screen while its human drama isn't given enough room to breathe.
Still, even with these defects, there's lots to appreciate and get enamored with in Origin, including a string of compelling performances. Aunjane Ellis, for her part, is great at capturing the vulnerability and academic confidence of Wilkerson, both sides of the coin are vividly-realized in her assured hand. Supporting performers Niercy Nash-Betts and Jon Bernthal impress in their screentime, while Audra McDonald gets an unforgettable sequence depicting a woman being openly vulnerable about classism she experienced as a child. In the wake of this testimony, Wilkerson clutches this woman's hand and quietly thanks her for her vulnerability. It's a moment of tender emotional connection so nicely realized on-screen, both in terms of the performances and filmmaking, that it encapsulates why Origin is impossible to dismiss fully. Any movie that can deliver a scene this good is doing something right, even if it's a drastic step down in quality from previous DuVernay directorial efforts like Selma and When They See Us.
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