Film Review: Jezebel

Taking place in the late 90s, Jezebel is a semi-autobiographical feature by debut writer/director, Numa Perrier, which follows Tiffany (Tiffany Tenille), a young woman who lives in a small Las Vegas apartment with her siblings. The only one providing any income is the older sister, Sabrina (Numa Perrier), who works as a phone sex operator, and getting increasingly frustrated with the lack of initiative from her brother, Dominic (Stephen Barrington), and her boyfriend, David (Bobby Field). Things go awry when their terminally ill mother passes away, and Tiffany is left with nothing to do since helping take care of the mother is what she has been doing up to this point.

So, as a way to earn money, and gain some independence, Sabrina points Tiffany towards a cam girl business in town. Tiffany decides to go check it out, gets immediately hired – at least, once the sleazy owner, Chuck (Dennis Jaffee), gets her to take her clothes off – and soon finds herself becoming the biggest cam girl on the site, going by the name “Jezebel.” The film explores the way Tiffany juggles her profession, her home life, and her own feelings as she comes into her own as an young, independent black woman.

Even if you weren’t aware of the fact that Perrier was inspired to make this film based on her own experiences, the deeply personal connection to the material is clearly felt, especially within the opening moment where we see Sabrina in the middle of a call while her siblings are outside the room, unable to fall asleep. The look on their faces isn’t one of great concern, or horror, or anger, or anything like that, it’s sheer boredom. It’s just another night for them, and for Sabrina, it’s just a job. And the way the film treats sex work as just work is very refreshing, considering how stigmatized sex workers are, and how poorly they tend to be handled in film.

Tiffany gets into the game surprisingly fast, but deals with problems at her workplace. There’s hints of jealousy from her all-white co-workers as she very quickly rises as a top performer, and there is a lack of empathy for her when she gets upset after being called a racial slur in the chatroom, but you can see how she grows from these experiences from scene to scene as she takes command of her agency and her sexuality, sometimes with the help of Sabrina, who acts as a compassionate ear that offers encouragement and love when she needs it the most.

There’s also a fascinating element when it comes to the name, Jezebel. The name also refers to an old black stereotype that was used to paint black women as promiscuous and sexually deviant with hyper sex drives, and it became such a widespread idea that it was often used as the defense and justification for forced pregnancy among slaves and rape. The consequences of these ideas are still being felt to this day since black women who experience rape and assault are less likely to be taken seriously by authorities than white women who go through similar experiences. While this whole aspect isn’t technically brought up in the film, it does feel like Perrier intends on taking back the name, and using it to showcase a black woman exploring her sexuality in a safe, healthy, sex positive space, which is incredibly valuable.

The film clocks in at under 90 minutes, and if I had to be critical about something, I would say the filmmakers could’ve explored some other paths without wearing out its welcome. The biggest example for me is one point in the film where Tiffany is in a bath, and she starts fantasizing and touching herself, and there is a quick flash of her kissing one of the other cam girls. This moment being referenced was not a real kiss, as it was just a way to play to the client watching online, but the fact that she thought of it later provides some interesting insight to her own sexual awakening that the film doesn’t really follow up on. I also felt that the ending is a bit sudden, which was purposeful in one sense, but it still left me wanting so much more.

Aside from moments that could’ve been expanded upon like that, I was very fond of what Numa Perrier did with Jezebel. It’s an achingly human film that shines a light on the kinds of experiences films don’t often cover, and it does it in a way that is raw, honest, and surprisingly hopeful. There’s a lot of thought put into how the film is framed, not only with its moody lighting and composition, but also in how it frames the characters and the cam work in a way that doesn’t paint it as shameful. But what really sticks with you are the relationships; two in particular. One is the special connection that Jezebel forms with her biggest client, Bobby (Brett Gelmen, who we only ever hear through the phone), and the other being the relationship between the two sisters, which comes through so strong due to the lively and earnest performances. Tiffany Tenille brings so much to the screen through her face and her eyes, especially in the handful of moments where she silently stares into the camera, while typing on the hilariously loud 90s keyboard during her chat sessions. I’ve long felt that Roger Ebert’s quote about movies being “machines that generate empathy” is one of the most tiresome quotes a critic can throw at a film, but that idea applies so well here. Perrier throws us into a story and an experience that is close to her, and she makes you feel every moment with every ounce of joy, melancholy, and love that she shares with that memory. It’s quite special.