Film Review: Miss Juneteenth

One of, if not the, toughest challenges of being a parent is learning how to balance the desires you have for your children, pushing them to be the best that you believe they can be, with what their own hopes and dreams are as individuals trying to find their place in the world. As the son of immigrant parents, that’s a feeling that is strongly felt, and that is also something that is likely familiar in the Black community in America where it often seems like thriving is compromised for the sake of surviving. That’s the space where Miss Juneteenth, the feature length debut from writer/director, Channing Godfrey Peoples, seeks to explore.

The film is loosely inspired by Peoples’ experience growing up in Fort Worth, Texas, where the film also takes place, having taken part in numerous Miss Juneteenth pageants, but never winning one. In the film, we follow a former Miss Juneteenth, Turquoise Jones (Nicole Beharie), whose life didn’t turn out the way she had hoped after her win like some of the other winners, many of whom have gone to do bigger and better things. She is working her butt off as a waitress at a local BBQ joint, but still struggling to make ends meet. But she is dedicating all her energy into making sure her 14-but-soon-to-be-15 year old daughter, Kai (Alexis Chikaeze) becomes the next Miss Juneteenth.

They explain it in the film, but if you aren’t aware of what Juneteenth is, it is a holiday that is celebrated on June 19th. It signifies the day in 1865 when the slaves in Texas became aware of the fact that they were free…almost two-and-a-half years after the Emancipation Proclamation. While initially starting off with localized celebrations in Texas, it began to spread throughout the South, slowly gaining more and more popularity and awareness over time. The film doesn’t linger too heavily on the history of it all, but the lasting legacy of it is certainly felt subtextually.

What we spend most of the film on is the relationship between Turquoise, or “Turq” for short, and her daughter, Kai, as well as how the daily trials and tribulations that they deal with in their tight-knit community. It is very evident that Kai isn’t into being a part of the pageant, and Turq goes out of her way to discourage her from the things she does show interest in, like dancing, or at least, the kind of dancing that she doesn’t feel to be suitable for a Miss Juneteenth contender.

However, that back-and-forth doesn’t play out in a way that veers into melodrama or sentimentality. Peoples takes a far more subdued approach, one that is understated almost to a fault, but works because she knows how to craft an authentic sense of place with this community. The details in the sets, the casting of supporting players like Kendrick Sampson, Lori Hayes, Marcus M. Mauldin, Liz Mikel, Akron Watson, and Lisha Hackney, who all do a wonderful job at populating the film with people who feel like the kind of folks you would bump into while out on the town. It feels like you’re observing real people.

But of course, the real star of the film is Nicole Beharie, who has always been a thoroughly underrated talent that you may have seen in films like American Violet, Shame, 42, or the show, Sleepy Hollow. While she has been around, she hasn’t quite broken big the way I think she deserves, and her work here shows how great she is. Turq is resilient, tough, but vulnerable, and always looks out for her daughter, even if her judgement sometimes steers her into overprotection. Her dynamic with Alexis Chikaeze is believable, and Chikaeze manages to hold her own against Beharie in all their scenes together.

If there are any drawbacks to Miss Juneteenth, it is mostly because of the rather leisurely pacing of the narrative, which takes a solid half hour or so before it really finds its groove. I also would have liked to see more of Turq’s past, which so heavily informs who she is as a person. Lori Hayes plays her mother, Charlotte, and they have a bit of a rough relationship due to Charlotte’s drinking. There are only a few scenes of them together, and while I don’t necessarily need things to be wrapped up in a neat, little bow, I think it would have made for a more complete experience if we got to see more of them together, both in their past and in the present. But as is, the film is still a strong exploration of motherhood, or rather Black motherhood specifically, and it marks a strong debut for Channing Godfrey Peoples, who I’m sure has bigger and better things coming ahead of her.