(The Toronto International Film Festival (or TIFF) runs September 10-20 and HtN has boots on the ground covering all the best indie films they have to offer. Check out Clara Cuccaro’s Misty Green movie review from the fest! Seen it? Join the conversation with HtN on our Letterboxd Page.)
It’s been twelve years since Chris Rock directed his last film Top Five and four years since “the slap.” Non-sequiturs aside, Rock is pulling double duty on Misty Green as both director and fedora-wearing supporting actor, ceding the spotlight to Rosalind Eleazar in an electrifying performance as a difficult actress on the verge of a comeback.
Misty Green unfolds over one stressful week. Years after her breakthrough on the TV show Red Eye, Misty (Eleazar) gets a seven-day eviction notice when her wealthy lover dies and his unforgiving widow (Amy Landecker) catches her sleeping in the beachfront apartment, sneering that “everybody clocks who you leave with” after Misty tries to convince her that they were just friends. Stripped of her financial safety net but not her dignity, Misty now needs to bag every role that comes her way, help her schizophrenic brother Jay (Daniel Kaluuya) stay afloat post rehab, and manage daily racialized microaggressions about her work ethic and lifestyle. Despite her technical skills as a performer—we see her nail an audition deeply hungover—Misty’s personality is not exactly easygoing. She likes to party, remains defensive, and is fiercely uncompromising in her convictions—refusing to even consider recurring TV roles despite her agent Randy’s (Topher Grace) pleas—making her a compelling, yet destructive force of nature.
When Misty finds out that Jordan Green (Rock) is directing Dreamgirls, she sees it as a way to prove she still has the chops. It’s a chance to show the industry that she’s not a hasbeen, but this is her ego speaking. Despite nailing auditions and winning an Emmy in the past, Misty is a walking red flag. She can’t control her impulses to drink, do drugs, or lash out. Eleazar, who is perhaps best known for her role on Slow Horses, is such a capable actress that she convinces us that Misty can overcome her demons with her raw talent alone. Rock uses Eleazar’s performance as a cornerstone of the film, leaning into her talent to confront and subvert the traditional showbiz genre. Rather than offering a clean, underdog arc, the film uses Misty’s talent as bait, hooking us on the fantasy of her comeback rather than the reality of her situation until it’s too late.
In many ways, Misty Green is your typical anti-LA film. The opening montage strips away Hollywood’s self-mythology, contrasting iconic landmarks like the Cinerama Dome with pictures of homeless people on Skid Row, but Rock adds an extra layer of social realism to the genre by putting systemic racism front and center. Misty bears the brunt of these microaggressions from Randy and casting agents, who flippantly ask her if she’s mixed rather than focusing on her talent. She takes most insults on the chin because she has to in order to survive in Hollywood, but her brother Jay can’t get past the indignities. Kaluuya shows how these everyday occurrences build up and rupture inside him. Whether it’s a waiter handing the wrong person the check or when he gets pulled over by the police, these racialized slights become boiling points that shift the entire trajectory of the film.
Eleazar is driven by its performances. Eleazar and Kaluuya are the most successful, but Anna Kendrick and Adam Driver fill out the film’s Hollywood backdrop as supporting players whose very presence as has-beens or sleazeballs underscores the double standards within the toxic Hollywood ecosystem. The only role that doesn’t land within the film is Rock as Jordan. He doesn’t need to double as the director both on and off-screen; his presence is better felt behind the camera where his usual stand-up tics don’t disrupt the rhythm of this otherwise grounded piece of social realism.
