‘Master’: Sundance Review

Dir/scr: Mariama Diallo. US. 2022. 91 mins.

Mariam Diallo, working off a riff by Jordan Peele, shows audiences just how much – and how effectively – social commentary can be smuggled in genre in the chilling Master. Like Remi Weekes’ His House, the horror here is within. And while, unlike Peele’s work, there are relatively few outright scares, and no gore at all, that doesn’t mean Master isn’t absolutely terrifying. 

Diallo makes her points crystal clear within the genre trappings

This perceptive, provocative, all-female piece marks Diallo’s debut, and is a smart pick-up for Amazon. Master will certaionly benefit from theatrical exposure when it releases simltaneously on the streamer on March 18. It has four-quadrant appeal (young, old, Black and white in this case) as it cocks a snook at the cosy world of academia and the smug, self-serving notions of diversity within it; another Sundance title, God’s Country, makes similar points. Set in a fusty old self-important New England bastion of academic privilege, it also hits teen-genre beats as its Black protagonist tries to settle into the Harvard-like confines of Andover College while her housemaster, the first Black person to hold that title, also tries to bed herself down in an oddly unwelcoming home. 

Diallo argues that the scars of the past are in the bones of today, and the portraits, the busts, the very floorboards continue to breathe the horror on those who walk them. Visually, this is a complex dance for Diallo, and while her script is clever and rich in nuance, its success is reinforced by deft camerawork from Charlotte Hornsby, working in a colour palette which juxtaposes the present with a Puritan past, suggesting the embers of a racist history live on, always ready to burst into flame again – whether that be burning a witch or setting a cross on fire.  

Regina Hall plays Gail Bishop, the new Master of Belleville, part of Andover College, a school as old as the country. Initially, the time frames seem to be juxtaposed, as Gail moves in, and, separately, young freshman Jasmine Moore (Zoe Renee) arrives and is awarded ‘the room’ – 302, which legend says is haunted by a Puritan-era witch, although the first Black undergraduate at Andover also hanged herself in here back in 1968. When you add to the swirling timeframes the fact that Jasmin sleepwalks, it’s easy to get lost in Andover’s history —with all the complications that ensue.

Diallo’s screenplay isn’t straightforward. Within that structure, there are further complexities – Jasmine is a middle-class, affluent Valedictorian, happy to push back and file a complaint when her Black English teacher Liv (Amber Gray) insists on a racial re-interpretation of The Scarlett Letter and fails her when she doesn’t comply. Why are the serving staff so unfriendly? Within its shadow play, Master keeps the audience guessing until the ultimate horror, which has always been hinted at, is revealed, but also the film finally reveals itself.

Production designers Meredith Lippincott and Tommy Love also play a big part in The Master’s effectiveness, as Andover College itself is as big and ominous a character as any of the protagonists. Initially, it seems as if Jasmine is dreaming in red, and the halls of the school turn hellish before she snaps back to the ‘real’ world, all brightly lit and preppy. Bit by bit, though, the waking and dreaming part of her nightmares are indistinguishable as characters turn into gargoyles and maggots literally crawl out of the woodwork.

Diallo has a lot of things to say here. Yet sometimes words aren’t enough: a straight-up drama won’t bring audiences to the place where Diallo wants to take them. Rest assured she makes her points crystal clear within the genre trappings: the only question left is where next for this talented new director.