Loving tells the little known story of the Supreme Court case, Loving vs. Virginia, in which an interracial couple was arrested in the State of Virginia for violation of their anti-miscegenation laws in 1958. Joel Edgerton, an Australian actor, plays Richard Loving, a laid-back construction worker who falls for a local black woman, Mildred Jeter, played by Ruth Negga, an actress of Ethiopian and Irish ancestry.
The first half of the movie is fascinating as it chronicles the couple's marriage in Washington, D.C. and subsequent arrest by Virginia authorities in Caroline County. A local lawyer makes a deal with the judge who banishes them from the state for 25 years; the judge tells them that if they return, they'll be arrested. Later they do return since Richard's mother is a midwife and Ruth feels comfortable having his mother deliver her newly arriving baby. The couple catches a break when they're hauled before the same racist judge who lets them go with a warning after their lawyer maintains he incorrectly advised them that they could return for the birth of the child without penalty.
What's interesting about Richard is that despite being Caucasian he's depicted as having been friends with black people all his life. It's brought out that his father used to work for the richest black man in that particular part of Virginia. Despite his noted lack of prejudice, Richard possessed an extremely taciturn personality, and Edgerton does his best illuminating a part that doesn't lend itself to great dramatic flair. Ruth's personality is also quite low-key, but as the couple finds themselves in the news after the ACLU took on their case, Ruth becomes slightly more assertive than her husband, especially in voicing her hopes for a successful resolution of the court proceedings.
After their first arrest, the couple is forced to move to Washington, D.C. Their aforementioned return to Virginia due to Ruth's pregnancy, is an exciting dramatic point, as they once again are forced to confront the Virginia criminal justice system, a worthy antagonist in the film.
But in the second half, the narrative begins to slow down considerably. There is a scene where Richard may or may not be chased by a mystery vehicle on a deserted road and later finds a brick, wrapped in a Life Magazine article about the couple, on the front seat of his car, which functions as a warning and a threat. But the bulk of the machinations involve the legal maneuvering that leads to the final showdown in the highest court of the land.
While we do meet the two lawyers who argue the case before the Virginia Courts and later the Supreme Court, we never see any of the Virginia legal antagonists involved. And the arguments before the Supreme Court justices are virtually non-existent. Instead, there's a scene involving a Life Magazine photographer who comes to the Lovings' house and takes pictures in order to publicize their case.
Director/Screenwriter Jeff Nichols was probably trying to show the "quiet dignity" of the Lovings throughout and I will say he succeeded. But their quiet dignity is a little too quiet, ultimately making the narrative dramatically inert. The other problem is that Nichols is unable to capture any sense of the couple, warts and all—they are such low-key, nice people, that one wonders if they had any idiosyncrasies, except maybe Richard's interest in drag-racing (depicted at the beginning of the film).
Nichols has done a great service in bringing us an important story that's part of American history. It's a beautiful looking film as well, but beautiful Hallmark Greeting cards also need more nuanced characters, and strong adversaries, to propel the drama forward effectively.
The first half of the movie is fascinating as it chronicles the couple's marriage in Washington, D.C. and subsequent arrest by Virginia authorities in Caroline County. A local lawyer makes a deal with the judge who banishes them from the state for 25 years; the judge tells them that if they return, they'll be arrested. Later they do return since Richard's mother is a midwife and Ruth feels comfortable having his mother deliver her newly arriving baby. The couple catches a break when they're hauled before the same racist judge who lets them go with a warning after their lawyer maintains he incorrectly advised them that they could return for the birth of the child without penalty.
What's interesting about Richard is that despite being Caucasian he's depicted as having been friends with black people all his life. It's brought out that his father used to work for the richest black man in that particular part of Virginia. Despite his noted lack of prejudice, Richard possessed an extremely taciturn personality, and Edgerton does his best illuminating a part that doesn't lend itself to great dramatic flair. Ruth's personality is also quite low-key, but as the couple finds themselves in the news after the ACLU took on their case, Ruth becomes slightly more assertive than her husband, especially in voicing her hopes for a successful resolution of the court proceedings.
After their first arrest, the couple is forced to move to Washington, D.C. Their aforementioned return to Virginia due to Ruth's pregnancy, is an exciting dramatic point, as they once again are forced to confront the Virginia criminal justice system, a worthy antagonist in the film.
But in the second half, the narrative begins to slow down considerably. There is a scene where Richard may or may not be chased by a mystery vehicle on a deserted road and later finds a brick, wrapped in a Life Magazine article about the couple, on the front seat of his car, which functions as a warning and a threat. But the bulk of the machinations involve the legal maneuvering that leads to the final showdown in the highest court of the land.
While we do meet the two lawyers who argue the case before the Virginia Courts and later the Supreme Court, we never see any of the Virginia legal antagonists involved. And the arguments before the Supreme Court justices are virtually non-existent. Instead, there's a scene involving a Life Magazine photographer who comes to the Lovings' house and takes pictures in order to publicize their case.
Director/Screenwriter Jeff Nichols was probably trying to show the "quiet dignity" of the Lovings throughout and I will say he succeeded. But their quiet dignity is a little too quiet, ultimately making the narrative dramatically inert. The other problem is that Nichols is unable to capture any sense of the couple, warts and all—they are such low-key, nice people, that one wonders if they had any idiosyncrasies, except maybe Richard's interest in drag-racing (depicted at the beginning of the film).
Nichols has done a great service in bringing us an important story that's part of American history. It's a beautiful looking film as well, but beautiful Hallmark Greeting cards also need more nuanced characters, and strong adversaries, to propel the drama forward effectively.