Miss June­teenth

What is a ​‘phe­nom­e­nal woman’? In a tow­er­ing per­for­mance, actor Nicole Beharie plays a for­mer beau­ty queen prepar­ing her rebel­lious daugh­ter for the Miss June­teenth pageant. This pow­er­ful direc­to­r­i­al debut from Chan­ning God­frey Peo­ples explores themes of Black moth­er­hood, wom­an­hood and the mean­ing of free­dom. Peo­ples, who also wrote the film, draws on her own expe­ri­ences grow­ing up in Fort Worth, Texas to tell a sto­ry that dou­bles as a love let­ter to South­ern Black culture.

Com­mem­o­rat­ed on 19 June, 1865, June­teenth is a hol­i­day cel­e­brat­ing the last slaves in Texas being freed after receiv­ing news of the abo­li­tion of slav­ery two-and-a-half years ear­li­er. We meet Turquoise Jones (Beharie) as she begins her shift at the local bar. As she walks, mop and buck­et in hand, we see the por­trait of her past vic­to­ry in the Miss June­teenth pageant as it hangs on the wall.

Becom­ing Miss June­teenth is a sign of poise, beau­ty and poten­tial. It brings admi­ra­tion and ele­vates the win­ner above the con­fines of small­town life. This promise, how­ev­er, has elud­ed Turquoise, and she strug­gles to make ends meet while rais­ing her teenage daugh­ter, Kai (Alex­is Chikaeze). Switch­ing between jobs, and lean­ing on Kai’s well-mean­ing but unre­li­able father, Ron­nie (Kendrick Samp­son), Turquoise is dri­ven by dreams of Kai fol­low­ing in her foot­steps and being crowned Miss Juneteenth.

As Turquoise push­es Kai into pageant prepa­ra­tion, we watch as she pins her hopes on her daugh­ter win­ning the title, which includes a ful­ly-paid col­lege schol­ar­ship and being able to step into the iden­ti­ty of the respectable, envi­able woman Turquoise is remind­ed dai­ly that she was nev­er able to become.

Beharie plays Turquoise with a qui­et, steely resilience, imbu­ing her with a vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty that doesn’t announce itself loud­ly, but is present in the hope­ful flick­er in her eyes as she watch­es Kai from the crowd. In Beharie, Peo­ples has found the per­fect foil to por­tray the unshak­able strength of Black moth­er­hood, jux­ta­posed with the heart­break­ing fragili­ty of a woman trapped by socioe­co­nom­ic con­di­tions and seek­ing refuge in a pageant that, we can see, sti­fles her daugh­ter rather than frees her.

Peo­ples adept­ly takes the famil­iar sto­ry of depri­va­tion, dis­ap­point­ment and sur­vival, and fil­ters it through a lens that locates a bright­ness in the char­ac­ters who live and dream in Fort Worth. Black cow­boys strut­ting down a parade line, mid­dle-aged folk line-danc­ing in the bar, dance teams made up of girls with lumi­nous braids bounc­ing con­fi­dent­ly. The film con­veys the tough real­i­ties fac­ing a small-town Black com­mu­ni­ty, but it is also just as keen to show­case the joy and cul­tur­al pride that remains undi­min­ished in these locales.

Miss June­teenth is a film that often ref­er­ences the 1995 Maya Angelou poem ​‘Phe­nom­e­nal Woman’. In plant­i­ng a sto­ry that is ulti­mate­ly about hope, in the strug­gles and cul­ture of a peo­ple whose resilience is astound­ing in itself, Peo­ples’ stun­ning film reminds us that wrestling joy from the jaws of tribu­la­tion can be the most phe­nom­e­nal act of all.