‘Fences’ elevates adaptation to experience

“Fences” was one of the first plays I had ever seen performed on stage in New York City, during its original run. It was a class trip in high school, and at the time, I was most excited to hear the voice of Darth Vader (James Earl Jones) on the stage in front of me.

I had since read all of the late playwright August WIlson’s 10-part series, called “The Pittsburgh Cycle,” which depicts decades in the lives of African-Americans, starting in the 1900s and concluding with the 1990s. And while each of the various plays crackles with its own verbal intensity, “Fences” remains, perhaps, his most enduring and accomplished achievement.

Set in the 1950s, it follows too-proud patriarchal waste collector Troy Maxson (played by Denzel Washington, who not only reprises his role from the 2010 revival, but also takes the helm as director) and his daily life and struggles to maintain stability, provide for his family and perhaps escape sins of his past.

Troy lives in a modest brownstone with wife Rose (played by Viola Davis, also reprising her stage role) and their son Corey (played by Jovan Adepo). Lyons (played by Russell Hornsby), his son from a previous marriage, is a struggling musician who occasionally stops by for some cash, despite the berating he will undoubtedly receive from his father.

Troy is a man brimming with opinions, and he has a sounding board in co-worker Jim Bono (played by Stephen McKinley Henderson). But he is also haunted by past decisions and current crossroads: from his war-injured brother Gabe (played by Mykelti Williamson) and his own felonious past, to his youngest son’s burgeoning athletic career that could waylay his academic pursuits and perhaps eclipse Troy’s own brief stint in the Negro Leagues.

Despite the cinematic adaptation, which was written by Wilson prior to his death in 2005 and published posthumously, the story rarely leaves its stage settings. And that is perhaps the main issue that hounded me when watching “Fences.” The film is still filled with near-genius writing (which is sadly still timely) and Oscar-ready performances, but never once did it feel “cinematic.”

There are a number of films that have taken place in a limited environment (Sidney Lumet’s “12 Angry Men,” also adapted from the stage comes first to mind), but they take advantage of its claustrophobic surroundings. “Fences” never embraces its opportunity to exist in the outside world.

All that said, it is a film that stands firmly on the shoulders of its leads, which should come as little surprise. As Troy, Washington again dances between being an insufferable jerk and a radiant charmer. It’s that complexity that has marked his career as one of the best living actors we have today.

But the main asset in “Fences” is Davis, who, dare I say, not only provides one of the year’s strongest performances (male or female), but also adds empathy to Washington’s Troy. She alone makes us forget we are watching a performance, and instead witnessing a raw, naked display of human emotion, warts and all.

Davis towers over “Fences” and elevates it from an adaptation to an experience. While the play remains one of the most important works of its kind (earning a Pulitzer, among other honors), watching the film version for Davis’ force-of-nature portrayal makes it worth witnessing on the screen.