The world inhabited by Dayveon (Devin Blackmon) is filled with the wild, raw beauty of the South, the barely existent convenience stores in derelict shopping strips that prop up the grim economy of rural neighborhoods, and the beat up clapboard houses where everyone struggles to make ends meet. To this thirteen year-old teenager, everything around him is “stupid” as he intones in the opening voiceover of the low-key “Dayveon,” the debut film from Amman Abbasi which acts as a calling card for strong directorial talents that are first displayed here, but are sure flourish even more powerfully in future efforts.
The slim, seventy-five minute film leans hard on atmosphere rather than than plot. Dayveon, still grieving the premature death of his older brother, lives with his sister Kim (Chasity Moore), her boyfriend Bryan (Dontrell Bright) and their toddler son, with his parents absenteeism only driven further by the loss of their offspring. Indeed, this is a world where the presence of adults are minimal, and leaves adolescents like Dayveon free to carve their own path to manhood. This allows Dayveon to keep his own secrets, such as the fact he has a gun hidden away under his bed, and that he’s joined the local chapter of Bloods. These are all familiar thematic and narrative ingredients that don’t offer much in the way of surprise in how they’ll unfold, but it doesn’t lessen the impact of their bittersweet results.
Indeed, Abbasi’s influences will be quite obvious to anyone who’s watched independent cinema over the past decade or so, but again, it’s a nonetheless compelling voice. Even more, Abbasi nearly does it all, directing, co-writing, co-producing, and even scoring “Dayveon.” However, the film’s look falls in the hands of cinematographer Dustin Lane, who still keeps the mood airy and lyrical despite a boxy Academy ratio. At times, Lane and Abbasi get playful with their imagery — a sequence with Dayveon and his best friend Brayden (Kordell “KD” Johnson) hanging out in the woods speeds up the editing and utilizes different formats; a nightclub scene features one of the few times you’ll see vomit in blacklight — but these are also the most jarring. The strength of the film is when it sustains its singular tone, drifting with Dayveon through a life that seems preordained, as he becomes another cog in a cycle of poverty and drugs that is familiar to many neighborhoods beyond the neglected south. There’s an air of resignation to everything, with even the Bloods lamenting that they don’t actually want to be pulling off half-baked stick-ups to pull together scraps of cash.
The array of big names grabbing producer credits on “Dayveon” is significant — David Gordon Green, Danny McBride, Jody Hill, James Schamus — and certainly an indication that Abbasi has struck a resonant nerve inside the industry with his skills. And undoubtedly, the presence of those producers likely allowed “Dayveon” to earn the kind of attention it might’ve missed out upon had it merely been just another Sundance entry, largely populated by non-actors, and helmed by a first time filmmaker. And while the surface glance of the film does feature a standard array of American indie signifiers, it’s worth emphasizing again that Abbasi’s voice is distinct, and is sure to become more sharply defined as his career evolves.
And in many ways that promise of future potential is found in Dayveon himself. He never completely loses himself to the Bloods, and within him is a self-protective wariness about a world from which he’s only seen limited options and loss. But that hesitance carries over when it comes to embracing true, meaningful support, particularly from Bryan who puts his heart on his sleeve in a bid to become a father and brother to Dayveon who never had the former and lost the latter. The world is wide but the opportunities for Dayveon to reach beyond the borders and horizons of his neighborhood are few. And so, if he’s going to survive in the realm that he knows, the alliances he makes in the next few years will be crucial, and as the film ends, Dayveon finds a place where he can possibly focus the anger, confusion and uncertainty into something constructive. And that’s where he can place his hope and possibly find strength, even as the quick strike of danger remains a constant possibility, not unlike bees that cover the trees outside Kim and Bryan’s home, waiting to sting. [B]
Click here for our complete coverage from the 2017 Sundance Film Festival
