August Wilson’s plays celebrate the oral storytelling tradition. They also embody it – more realistically than we might sometimes like. And so it is that you can watch characters swap stories for the length of an August Wilson play and feel like you’ve been listening in on a night of bull-slinging more than you’ve been absorbing a coherent narrative.

Such is the case with the latest of Wilson’s plays to come in front of the camera, The Piano Lesson, a labour of love for Denzel Washington’s entire family – director Malcolm, star John David, and Denzel himself serving as producer. You may recall Denzel starred in the adaptation of Wilson’s Fences, a best picture nominee back in 2016, and his love of Wilson’s work clearly rubbed off on his offspring. The Piano Lesson will not be scoring an Oscar nod to match Fences, but there’s some good craft and storytelling to be had here – even if it meanders, and your mind sometimes wanders.

The story, such as it is, revolves around a special piano currently located at the Pittsburgh home of young widow Berniece Charles (Danielle Deadwyler) in 1936. The piano is essentially her birthright, if not actually her “property” in terms of lawful financial transactions. Her father (Stephan James) stole the instrument back in 1911, but only because his father had carved the faces of his loved ones and other community members into the casing above the keys, his way of remembering his family after they were separated during slavery. It was more a repossession than a theft.

Now looking to get his own start, her ne’er do well brother Boy Willie (John David Washington) has returned home to Pittsburgh to try to charm Berniece and their uncle Doaker who lives with her (Samuel L. Jackson), but really to loosen her grip on the piano in order to sell it. Even with only his half of the proceeds, it would be enough for Boy Willie to buy some land and start becoming serious. He’s joined by his mate Lymon (Ray Fisher), and one of a number of suitors for Berniece’s affections is a local preacher, Avery (Corey Hawkins). Berniece still isn’t over the death of her husband, three years in the past, and is also raising a daughter (Skylar Aleece Smith).

There will be any number of conversations about this piano – both in its potential sale and its origins – and through this, they will explore the tales, both true and tall, of their larger shared history. This also includes the story of the death of a local white man, Sutter, who was pushed down a well by “the ghost of the yellow dog.” There seems to be at least some evidence that Sutter is haunting this very house.

The supernatural themes of The Piano Lesson give it a little bit of distinction from Wilson’s largely realistic body of work, and there are some clever little horror touches that work well here, even though they are clearly secondary and not enough to make this a genre film. Overall, though, the film has more the feel of a collection of short stories centred around this piano. That isn’t problematic in terms of the design of the film, but it does slightly dilute our emotional investment in the characters, which inevitably weakens the impact of the big finale.

Then there’s the fact that it’s not actually intended as a collection of short stories, meaning there are some gaps in the internal logic. Different short stories don’t need to textually relate to one another, they just need to have strong connective tissue at the thematic level, assuming the conception for the project is to relate everything to, in this case, the piano. The Piano Lesson only feels like different stories because Malcolm Washington’s adaptation of the play (with Virgil Williams) is light on orienting us, on highlighting passages of dialogue that keep us on track within the narrative. In other words, this film might have needed more clear exposition. By opting instead for the more casual form of communication that characterises the relationships of life-long friends and family members, the writers got their authenticity, but sacrificed clarity.

That authenticity, though, has plenty of memorable moments. One outstanding sequence involves four of the men spontaneously breaking out into an early blues song they all know, punctuated by rhythm and percussion with hands against chests and other available surfaces, and little shouts and other vocalisations filling even momentary gaps in the lyrics. It’s such a rousing moment that you expect them all to cheer when their little moment of improvisatory jamming reaches its conclusion. Instead, they all seem to have been slightly rocked by the weight of the performance, considering that its lyrics were not the kind you would cheer.

Would that this were the overall impression The Piano Lesson created on its audience. It runs for too long, with too many digressions, to have the relatively small impact it has by the time the final curtain comes down. Being in the company of these characters and overhearing their stories is a nice place to be, but we don’t feel like we really know them in the end.

 

The Piano Lesson is now streaming on Netflix.