Chris Rock’s directorial career may have gone unnoticed compared to his acting and stand-up work, but it gave us Top Five, which remains Rock’s most personal statement as an artist and is even more pertinent to understanding how he operates twelve years after its release. Anyone who saw – and found meaning – in Top Five might have been looking forward to what Rock would do behind the camera again, but one had to wait a considerable time before he gave us Misty Green. A24 had big hopes for it, too. Splashy premieres at festivals in Toronto, New York, and London, and its stacked cast gave it massive awards buzz before anyone could even lay eyes on it.
The only good thing I can say about Misty Green is that Rosalind Eleazar gives one of the year’s most moving performances as the film’s titular character, a washed-up actor who is desperately trying to land a gig in Hollywood after a series of mistakes essentially saw her go from becoming a top burgeoning talent (an Emmy winner, after all) to persona non grata. There’s too much chatter about her past behavior and substance abuse for anyone to take a chance on her, even if she states to her agent (Topher Grace) that those are in the past.
The film opens with her being woken up by a widow (Amy Landecker) who has taken control of her late husband’s assets and politely asks her to vacate the apartment he lent Misty in seven days. She now has a week to get her act together, and that’s when the actress reunites with director Jordan Green (Chris Rock), who is eyeing a Dreamgirls remake and still hasn’t found the right lead. This could be her chance at a comeback, but many visions of her past continue to haunt her, especially as her brother, Jay (Daniel Kaluuya), has just been released from prison and still struggles with his mental health.
At its core, Misty Green should be a character study about the person Rock says he will focus on. But she barely gets agency of her own. The screenplay is filled with as many “satirical” references to modern-day Hollywood as it can, but none of them are remotely ingenious or funny. The references amount to dropping the names of famous celebrities to make this fictionalized Los Angeles feel lived in, but all they do is sap the chemistry between the actors, since most of their quick-witted lines have established talent name other talent. It isn’t particularly original, but it also isn’t offensive either. It’s just painfully boring.
Whenever Rock actively locks in and focuses on Misty Green’s emotional journey, the movie actively takes time to create thoughtful visual compositions that respond to the way she “rises up” from her current state. Cinematographer Kira Kelly’s best work occurs during the Dreamgirls audition scene – the film’s highlight – as Green pours her heart and soul into the musical number to ensure she can finally have a second chance. After seeing everything she’s going through for the past week, including dealing with her brother, attempting to sever ties with Zach (Adam Driver), a drug addicted filmmaker, while also curbing her own addiction, this moment feels like Misty’s biggest victory.
It’s also the best showcase for Eleazar’s talents. You might not have noticed her incredible supporting turn in Mark Jenkin’s Rose of Nevada, but it primes you for what she accomplishes in Misty Green. It’s a performance of genuine vulnerability, one where we feel every single ounce of her pain and root for her successes, even if the road ahead will be difficult. That’s why the audition scene is so important: it marks the pivotal shift that her life could improve, provided she finally accepts help from others and learns from her mistakes. We might not necessarily care about the movie, but audiences will likely care about Misty.
That is, until the film insists upon itself. Instead of letting it reach a natural conclusion, knowing some plot threads will be purposefully unresolved because the path the character takes won’t be easy, Rock drags on for another forty-five minutes or so and saps any ounce of goodwill he had from the audience. Perhaps you liked some natural supporting performances from Rock or Kaluuya (the latter never misses, even in films that do), but you’ll certainly feel bad from even sympathizing with any of them, or with Misty, as the film takes the route of unnecessarily cruel punishment.
It’s hard to discuss this section without spoiling, because it happens after a peak dramatic turn that essentially culminates everything the film built up. At that point, the story is over. There’s nothing more to tell. Interminably stretching the film for unearned tears and misery porn is not the way, but what’s most appalling is how Rock treats the character at every turn. She is not allowed a “Hollywood happy ending,” but for what? She’s already lived through Hell (as a recurring flashback tells us). She’s already gone through massive pain that she’s sadly tried to numb with copious amounts of drugs. Why shouldn’t she have the classic conclusion? If there’s one character who deserves such a clichéd ending, it’s Misty Green. She’s gone through the wringer, the least you can do to elicit audience sympathy is to give her the ending she deserves.
Stretching the movie until the audience expresses zero sympathy for the character – and the movie – is a Herculean feat, but this is what Rock accomplishes in Misty Green’s denouement. The character makes a slew of bad decisions that actively undermine her path towards redemption, and agonizingly trudges through a “I guess it wasn’t meant to be” ending that’s simultaneously infuriating and insulting, not only for the audience, but for Misty’s own agency. Rock’s titular character is nothing more than a walking and talking self-destructive stereotype, and it’s particularly disheartening to see when Eleazar gives such a magnificent performance.
It’s a shame such a turn won’t get its flowers because Rock doesn’t know how to end his movie and turns this dry satire into a patently offensive, manipulative drama. If it weren’t for such a disastrous last half, Misty Green likely would’ve been an average but unmemorable satire. With this final decision, the movie becomes Rock’s worst directorial effort, and likely the title that may kill his behind-the-camera career for good.
