40 Acres Review

It’s dizzying how quickly Danielle Deadwyler burst into the limelight. Her screen debut came over a decade ago, after which she only occasionally worked but was often hailed as the highlight when she did. Her supporting role in The Harder They Fall in 2021 finally made general audiences take notice, and 2022’s Till earned her a dedicated fanbase that decried her omission from that year’s Oscars. Each performance since has elicited further praise, no matter whether she’s barely on screen (e.g. I Saw the TV Glow) or fully commands it (e.g. The Woman in the Yard). From the moment you hear her voice in 40 Acres, it’s clear this will not buck the trend.

A title card informs us of a series of connected disasters over a decade ago. It began as a mysterious plague that killed most animal life, causing civilization to largely fall apart and leading to civil war. Self-sustaining farms became the most valuable land around, such as the one that has been in Hailey Freeman’s (Deadwyler) family for nearly two hundred years. Holding on to their bounty requires extensive fortification to avoid being overrun by jealous outsiders. Fortunately for her family, Hailey has military training, which she and her partner Galen (Michael Greyeyes) pass on to their four children. The six form a ruthless and efficient unit, skilled in both firearms and hand-to-hand combat. All of which we witness in the thrilling opening scene, as a roving gang charges through their cornfield intending to take the main house, during which they’re cut down one-by-one by the Freemans through sharpshooting, stealth, and quickness.

This scene also hints at what will become the driving force of the film: the restlessness of Manny (Kataem O’Connor). He’s begun to rebel, constantly brooding and pushing back against the strict discipline imposed by his mother and father. More than just a moody teenager or twentysomething, he’s most interested in romantic partnership, suggested by his hesitation to kill a wounded female interloper. The way the camera cuts between his face and hers renders it completely unsurprising later when he brings a woman from a nearby outpost to his family’s barn and hides her from the others. And also that her presence would precipitate the entire third act.

Until shortly before then, Manny’s disillusionment appears primarily as a background thread shown in small snippets while we get to know the family. We feel how isolated they are, hear their communication (or lack thereof) with nearby farms via shortwave radio, and learn how they swap supplies without face-to-face contact via drop points. Slights as small as laughing at something Hailey perceives as serious is enough for a scolding and a command for push-ups. She does show some warmth in small moments, making it clear that her tough-as-nails, no nonsense exterior comes from well-honed survival training. It’s hard to argue with; the radio reveals that most other farms are struggling, but the Freemans appear to have a hard-earned abundance, maintained through grueling work and rigorous discipline. Hailey’s family got their forty acres, and she’s not about to be the generation to let it slip through their fingers, apocalypse be damned (although it presumably took their mule).

Its title hints at what makes 40 Acres surprising – its rote but capable wielding of genre hides a more well-considered script. All the standard elements are well done. The action is engaging despite lacking innovation, the cast around Deadwyler aren’t anything special but are good enough, and it manages to squeeze some beautiful shots out of the mundane surroundings. But as with most post-apocalyptic films, the narrative is commenting on the present, and is doing so here more sharply than most. Instead of emphasizing the importance of community and bemoaning the lack of trust in each other, 40 Acres embraces it: the Freemans are thriving and safe precisely because of their insistence on isolation. Letting others in is a risk, and not a rewarding one. Even when other farms call for help, Hailey simply notes that each farm must be able to take care of itself if they intend to survive.

Its racial dynamics make its point sharper and more poignant. Hailey is African-American and Galen is Indigenous, and the roving gangs all white people looking to claim the fruits of the Freemans’ labor as their own. Furthermore, unity will not save them: Hailey’s friend Augusta (Elizabeth Saunders) lives in a nearby village with people from a wide variety of backgrounds, and they were all but wiped out by the attackers. Hailey is terrified of the attackers finding any foothold to get in, leading her to distrust other non-white people as well, as she cannot rule out them joining the mob. Even in the final confrontation, a form of lockdown is their beacon of hope. Hailey’s journey teaches her to open up and trust a few people outside her family: very, very few people, but some. Conversely, Manny’s is that of understanding why his mom is such a hard-ass, despite not always agreeing with it.

With that said, the weakest part is the engine that drives the plot forward. Although perfectly coherent, Manny’s subplot is easily the most trite element the script has to offer. He sulks and stews, he sneaks about, and he puts everyone in danger in direct opposition to his training. There’s no nobility or higher purpose to his actions, just selfishness. It’s as if we’re transported into a coming-of-age YA novel in those moments, a strange tonal clash with the “everything is life or death” mentality brought by every other character.

Its shakiness allows the viewer to step back and notice some of the other cracks in the foundation. Most notably that the worldbuilding attempted isn’t super tight. Thorne mostly gets away with it on account of the propulsive action and drama. But when he allows our mind to wander, we start to wonder how roving gangs have survived for nearly a decade, how the Freemans are powering their vehicles and equipment (they don’t all appear to be electric), and what they’re doing about sanitation. Such questions plague nearly every post-apocalyptic story, but the most successful ones never let those thoughts gain purchase in your mind.

While not the best version of this story, its potent combination of script, action, and social commentary elevate it above the normal genre fare. Thorne’s debut feature looks from the outside like just another thriller about the near-future collapse of civilization brought on by a plague (I wonder why that was on his mind?). But by imbuing it with bigger ideas, and ones beyond the common themes, he’s crafted multiple levels on which the film can be enjoyed. Whether you’re watching for Deadwyler as a bad ass or statements about what people of color must do to survive in this word or just some gnarly action, it does an admirable job providing for a wide variety of audiences.