THE BOOK OF CLARENCE (2023) REVIEW

 

"The Book of Clarence," the religious epic crafted by multi-talented artist Jeymes Samuel, presents itself as a handsomely crafted picture, yet ultimately loses its plot. Centered around Clarence (portrayed by LaKeith Stanfield), a street hustler navigating A.D. 33 Jerusalem, Samuel's script ventures into the realm of farcical exploitation while reaching for political relevance, under the misguided notion that every Black film must inherently carry weighty significance. As demonstrated in Samuel's directorial debut, "The Harder They Fall," the filmmaker possesses a precise vision, yet there exists a fine line between genre subversion and narrative incomprehensibility.

"The Book of Clarence" is ostensibly a religious epic, though it diverges from religious themes: Despite Clarence's twin brother Thomas (also portrayed by Stanfield) being one of Jesus' apostles, Clarence himself embodies a cynical atheist. Additionally, he operates as a drug dealer, immersed in a world replete with club dens, sensually gyrating women, and dubious characters.

Clarence's lack of astuteness is evident from the film's outset: In a bid to earn extra money, Clarence engages in a chariot race against Mary Magdalene (played by Teyana Taylor), borrowing funds from a notorious gangster named Jedediah the Terrible (portrayed by Eric Kofi-Abrefa). The rationale behind Clarence's decision remains unclear, yet the race sequence, shot on location in Matera, Italy, proves immersive and cinematically engaging.

Following Clarence's defeat in the race, he finds himself indebted to Jedediah, prompting various failed attempts to amass sufficient funds for repayment. From contemplating baptism to aspiring to become an apostle, Clarence's ventures are rife with comedic missteps, culminating in a desperate ploy to pose as a new messiah. However, the film's attempt to balance religious satire with Clarence's journey of self-discovery results in tonal inconsistencies and underwhelming humor.

Despite its aesthetic appeal, characterized by tactile costumes and expansive wide-angle shots, "The Book of Clarence" is hindered by Samuel's unfettered creativity. Similar to "The Harder They Fall," the film's soundtrack, composed by the filmmaker, occasionally overshadows narrative progression. Moreover, crucial narrative components such as romance and character dynamics remain underdeveloped, detracting from the overall cohesion of the film.

Furthermore, the film's political commentary, particularly regarding white supremacy and the Roman Empire, lacks nuance and fails to substantiate its assertions. Consequently, James McAvoy's portrayal of Pontius Pilate and the Roman Empire as symbols of oppression feels superficial and disconnected from the broader narrative.

Additionally, LaKeith Stanfield's portrayal of Clarence fails to align with the film's intended tone, vacillating between indifference and seriousness. While Stanfield's talent is undeniable, Samuel's ambitious narrative demands exceed the actor's capacity to deliver a cohesive performance.

In conclusion, "The Book of Clarence" falls short of its potential, grappling with tonal inconsistencies, narrative sprawl, and thematic underdevelopment. Rather than exploring the complexities of religious conversion and Black liberation, the film resorts to caricature and oversimplification, ultimately diminishing the richness of its subject matter.