The day before I attended a screening of Aleshea Harris's kinetic and ferocious feature debut Is God Is, a man killed eight children in Shreveport, Louisiana, seven of whom were his own. Mere days before that, a disgraced former lieutenant governor of Virginia killed his estranged wife and then himself; the couple's two teenage children were in the home at the time. Both men happened to be Black, and this truth reignited an ongoing social media discourse often divided along gender lines — many Black men, including journalist Roland Martin, framed such acts as evidence of a "mental health crisis," downplaying or ignoring the suffering of the victims: Black women and children.
Is God Is is in no way directly inspired by these news stories, but they're in direct conversation with the film anyhow. In Harris' story, adapted from her acclaimed play of the same name, a serial abuser — assigned the poetically generic name of Man and played by Sterling K. Brown — is the source of insurmountable trauma and anguish for many, including and especially his own family. Violence against women and children at the hands of romantic partners or family members is, mercilessly, never not a topical subject.
Is God Is favorably calls to mind an assortment of brutal revenge tales and dysfunctional family melodramas with a dash of mystic horror – think Thelma & Louise meets The Color Purple meets Eve's Bayou. It drops us into the tough, isolated world of twin sisters Racine (Kara Young) and Anaia (Mallori Johnson), women bonded as much by the cruelty of their father, Man, as they are by having once shared a womb. When they were children, Man committed a horrific act that hurtled them into the chaotic foster care system while leaving them with permanent, severe burn scars. As adults, they're practically inseparable and just barely scraping by financially.
For Racine, the spunky, scrappy one, the physical disfigurement is less noticeable and easy enough to cover up with clothing — she can move about the world relatively normally. But much of Anaia's face bears the visible, painful imprint of Man's actions, and it's made her meek and "all emotional," in the words of her protective sister. As far back as Anaia can remember, she's been teased and called "ugly," though it's safe to say that anyone who's dared to do so has incurred the wrath of Racine, who does not suffer fools.
From jump, Racine and Anaia's sisterly dynamic is absorbing, as embodied by Young and Johnson's fantastic, locked-in performances. Their often playful banter is bathed in warm familiarity and punctuated with humorous, colorful expletives, and it's fun to spend time with these two even when the circumstances are punishingly bleak. Harris renders their emotional and spiritual entwinement with lovely touches, most eloquently in their ability to carry on conversation without needing to say a word.
The revenge part kicks in when the twins receive word that their long-lost mother Ruby (Vivica A. Fox) is still (barely) alive, and has summoned them to fulfill a last, dying wish: "Make your daddy dead … kill his spirit, then the body. Like he did me." The bedridden Ruby, like her daughters, is covered in scars caused by Man – even more so. Her wish sets the twins on their father's trail, but also puts them at odds with one another as they strongly disagree on the morality of their assignment. Racine, naturally, has no qualms with it. "I wanna tell somebody they ugly," she reasons. "Step on someone else for once … It must feel good, if everyone else is doing it."
Yet Harris frames their quest as more than just the pursuit of cathartic vengeance. The breadcrumbs leading to their target are an assortment of characters who have dealt with Man in the years since Racine and Anaia last saw him, and who (in some cases) bluntly and effectively represent the many ways violent and abusive men are excused and protected within their own communities. (Erika Alexander, Janelle Monáe, and Mykelti Williamson pop up in memorable performances in this capacity.)
People rapturously defend Man in Is God Is. Virginia's ex-lieutenant governor – whose political career, it's worth mentioning, stalled out years ago because of sexual assault allegations – was likewise quickly eulogized by some as a "gracious individual," a "dear [fraternity] brother," and "a generous man," even after killing his wife. Life and art, fluidly moving in and through one another.
There's so much richness here, especially in the film's visual aesthetic and stylistic storytelling choices, that the third act falters slightly under the weight of expectations. While Man's sins are revealed early on, his presence is largely restricted to flashbacks in extremely tight closeup shots or camera positionings intentionally obscuring his full profile, rendering him a sinister, mysterious figure. When he finally appears in full form, Sterling K. Brown plays Man as menacingly soft-spoken, and it mostly works — he's played a creep to great effect before, in Honk For Jesus. Save Your Soul. — but the showdown between dad and daughters doesn't hit as hard in its staging or scripting as the action in earlier sequences.
Even a perfunctory ending can't take away from the film's fiery commitment to bearing witness to misogyny's bitter fruit. Harris' vision as a first-time filmmaker is crystal clear, and Is God Is already feels timeless, like a parable that could have been written decades ago, and will be handily passed down as pointed social critique for decades to come.
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