Nickel Boys
Nickel Boys
A powerful friendship develops between two young Black men as they navigate the harrowing trials of reform school together.
Kevin Ward reviewedJuly 1, 2025
Nickel Boys, adapted from Colson Whitehead’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, takes a bold stylistic leap, presenting its narrative almost entirely through the first-person point of view of Elwood Curtis. This impressionistic approach creates a deeply immersive and emotionally charged experience, forging an unshakable empathy for its protagonist as he navigates the injustices of Jim Crow-era America. The fragmented storytelling offers glimpses of Elwood’s life, as if we are piecing together the shards of his memory—each cut a wound, each fragment a painful truth.
Elwood accepts a ride from a stranger, a choice that irrevocably alters his life. From the passenger seat, the camera lingers on his lap, his hands clutching a schoolbook, and his gaze nervously fixed downward as the car is pulled over. The man’s voice—assuring Elwood to let him handle it.—We are in his grandmother’s home, her voice full of conviction as she defends his innocence to someone just out of sight. The camera stays on Elwood’s arm, draped over the backrest of the couch, as if he is retreating into himself—We are in the back seat of a police car as the officer casually demeans him, introducing him to the two white boys seated beside him as a “real-life car thief.” The camera doesn’t flinch, keeping us locked in Elwood’s perspective as the vehicle pulls up to the Nickel Academy, a Florida reform school where Elwood is sentenced to serve his so-called community service. The academy’s segregated quarters, oppressive rules, and pervasive violence are revealed in bits and pieces, leaving viewers to feel Elwood’s confusion and dread as he processes the brutal reality of his new existence.
I was kind of floored by RaMell Ross’s cinematic choice, placing us so firmly in Elwood’s shoe. through Jomo Fray’s captivating cinematography, we see the world as Elwood does, his experiences shaping our understanding of his plight, eschewing exposition in favor of sensation. A profoundly moving film. Potential recency bias, but I have a hard time imagining RaMell Ross not getting nominated for a best director Oscar. Highly, highly recommend.