Sundance Review: Mariama Diallo’s ‘Master’ balances horrors real and imagined in the world of institutionalized academic racism [Grade: B]

Mariama Diallo’s debut feature Master begins as most coming of age college films do, with orientation and getting to know the place our characters have selected for their higher educational careers. For Jasmine (Zoe Renee), her first day at Ancaster College is extremely tense, as the soon comes to realize two things, that she is one of the only Black students on campus, and that the school has placed her in room 302, known to be haunted by the ghost of someone who died in it years before. In an effort to not dwell on that information, she tries to make the best of it, as she gets to know her fellow students, go to parties, meet cute boys, all the while trying to excel in her schoolwork. But as her time at Ancaster continues, and she does become curious in not just the history of her room, but the curses surrounding the entire academic institution, the more she begins to have haunting visions and nightmares that take over her daily focus, thus her grades begin to slip.

At the same time, Gail Bishop (Regina Hall, in one of two Sundance features she appears in this year), the school’s first Black “Master,” (a particularly loaded word for this story) or a dean of students within her area of study, is acclimating into her new position. She is a tenured professor, with published articles and books on best sellers’ lists, and popular amongst the student body. She is excited to get the chance to be a Master at the college, and with this honor, is put up in a house of her own on campus. As she is moving in, she starts to notice things aren’t as grand as they seem to be, with problematic racial artifacts and locations (a maid’s quarters hidden away at the top of a long flight of stairs) around every corner of the house, as well as a bug infestation that’s both real and on the nose figuratively to the rotting happening from within.

She is forced to move in with her colleague, Liv Beckman (Amber Gray), another Black professor who is up for a tenure position as well. Liv isn’t as published or well known outside of Ancaster for her work as Gail, but she is a hit amongst the students for her free-flowing conversations as she teaches. Liv and Gail jog, eat, drink, do a lot together because they are the only two Black professors on campus, thus their friendship is built not just on mutual taste, but out of necessity and comfort to connect with someone they know is in the same boat as them. But when Jasmine files a complaint about Liv to Gail, stating the English professor is being biased in her grading, it sets of a chain of events, both in real and supernatural form that all three women must come to terms with about the environment they’re living in.

Diallo’s metaphorical storytelling is as focused as you will find at Sundance this year, as she is clearly using monsters and sprites normally seen in a studio horror movie to convey the real dangers that people of color face in large, white dominated academic institutions. But they aren’t what is really attacking these women, but rather the anxieties and pressures put on them to either exile higher than anyone else at Ancaster, or to play by the rules and adapt to the radical, disgusting behaviors that have plagued these educational cathedrals since their inception. Jasmine, Gail and Liv (portrayed extremely well by Renee, Hall and Gray) feel a sense of isolation, as everything around them screams of historical, foundations, systemic red flags that haunt, but also are carried on, by each new generation of white students and facility members.

It’s within conversations throughout the film – and the microaggressions by white students and faculty against Jasmine and Gail – when Master is its scariest, when everyone around our protagonists uses the same racial tricks of the past to turn Jasmine, Gail and Liv against one another. Even though Jasmine’s complaint could cost Liv her spot at getting tenure, there is no ill will between the two because Liv knows what Jasmine has been through, cut from the same cloth. Gail, while fighting for her friend’s position beside her at the table, is being forced to remain silent in review boards determining how Liv’s case will move forward, while also making sure Jasmine is being taken care of, as she is part of Gail’s section of the student body and responsible for in her role as Master. And for Jasmine, these outside pressures, mixed with hazing and bullying by her classmates, result in nightmares to the point where she can’t trust anyone, and thus feels so cold and alone in a place she chose to flourish in. The journey each take within Master is fully realized, and deeply concern that this occurs still to this day.

While its storytelling and messaging works, the one flaw of the movie is its pacing. At times it moves too slow for its own good, then we get to the ending, where revelations about the college and our protagonists unfold and we don’t get enough time to process what is being given. But they are thematically too rich to pass up. And as we dive further into racial issues of passing, color identity, and reach our character’s breaking point, there is a massive sense of relief when they confront the realization that enough is enough and you have to sometime walk away from what might seem like a good set up, but ultimately, is sinister in every form. Horror films have become the modern vehicle to point the camera at the problems facing the underrepresented in our society, and with Master, it’s another impactful entry in this new, important subgenre.

Grade: B

This review is from the 2022 Sundance Film Festival. Amazon Studios will release Master globally on March 18, 2022, on Prime Video.

Photo courtesy of the Sundance Institute