Antebellum

It might aspire to be a spiritual cousin to Get Out, but Antebellum lacks the same level of emotional impact or subtle nuance.

Indeed, while there’s a harrowing relevance to this twisty thriller, it winds up a provocative yet muddled attempt to explore eugenics and systemic injustice during the past 150 years of American history through a shallow and manipulative genre exercise.

The film opens with a wonderfully evocative slow-motion tracking shot depicting life of a Confederate outpost — contrasting the visual beauty of the 19th century Deep South with the brutal inhumanity inflicted upon the tortured slaves.

Later, we meet Veronica (Janelle Monae), a Chicago author and public speaker whose latest book promotes the progressive notion of “liberation over assimilation” for Black women. She projects confidence and resilience, with a supportive husband (Marque Richardson) and an upwardly mobile best friend (Gabourey Sidibe) at her side.

However, Veronica is haunted by those plantation nightmares from generations ago, in which she finds herself taking an unwilling role alongside a pregnant woman (Kiersey Clemons) trying to find a means of escape from the ruthless army captain (Jack Huston) and his perverted troops.

The aforementioned opening immediately establishes a sense of dread and unease. Viewing the oppressive abuse and nonchalant violence through a contemporary lens adds a layer of urgency, although the earnest film doesn’t delve much deeper than that.

Give the rookie directing tandem of Gerard Bush and Christopher Renz credit for a visually striking debut, although their woefully uneven screenplay is missing the focused perspective and narrative texture to match its lofty ambitions.

Eventually, all of the tactical misdirection becomes frustrating, and by the end, moviegoers might not remain emotionally engaged enough to care about piecing the clues together. A big third-act reveal drills home the social commentary, raising more questions without supplying many answers.

Monae (Hidden Figures) earns sympathy with a powerfully understated performance while probing the mind of a tortured artist and her work.

By vividly linking past and present, Antebellum broadly asks whether things have really changed that much. More heavy-handed than profound, the film might generate conversation afterward, although not necessarily for the intended reasons.

Rated R, 106 minutes.