by

Some topics of Church history are so ugly, so complex and so fraught with conflicting priorities that they seem impossible to talk about in meaningful ways. Racism in the Church is one of those topics. Polygamy is another. Each attempt to examine these topics is like performing an autopsy on a live patient, each little dissection an injury. How, then, can we address these matters, because it is both morally crucial and communally necessary to know ourselves and see as we were then and are now? Melissa Leilani Larson (screenplay, story), Tamu Smith and Zandra Vranes (story) believe that the medium of film, the dramatization of historical characters, can bring us closer to an understanding that is both sensitive and sensible. Jane and Emma is their work, a film that portrays the intersecting lives of the freshly-widowed Emma Smith and Jane Manning, a black woman seeking her spiritual birthright among the Mormons of Nauvoo. While the film is not perfect, it represents the best on-screen attempt to capture the complexity of Nauvoo and the staggering internal conflicts these women faced.

First of all, this movie is not history. While it is based on known accounts and generally covers historical events, it takes enormous liberties and has a few incongruencies that historians will not like. THAT’S OKAY. Yes, Joseph Smith was murdered in June, and the film takes place in late fall/early winter. No, it’s unlikely that William Clayton accused Emma –the day after Joseph Smith was murdered – of leading Joseph to his death by asking him to return to Nauvoo. There are many such moments in the film — even though the film also goes to lengths to be historically accurate in countless other respects, particularly regarding the history of Jane Manning James. This film is not meant to be an historical re-enactment. It is a drama, and its purpose is to look at the conflicts, the drivers behind human action, and to raise them up for our instruction and our compassion.

On that level, Jane and Emma succeeds. It deals frankly with racism among the saints, and is unflinching in that respect. The portrayal of Nauvoo polygamy is also very direct, including side-eye from sister wives and Emma’s brutal views of the younger women capturing Joseph’s favor. Frankly, I am unsure whether Emma was as kind, charming and egalitarian as she is portrayed to be in the film. Jane’s story is one of utter heartbreak, and even the offer of ritual sealing adoption into Joseph’s family is frankly addressed as a spiritual conflict, causing Jane to wonder if performing such a ritual would imply abandoning any of her family. Emma’s response to this — “I don’t rightly know” — illustrates, fairly and honestly, how some of the Nauvoo ritual proceedings outstripped the saints’ ability to understand potential earthly and heavenly implications. Jane is shown as a visionary woman, a prophetess in her own right, but one who has her (literal) long night of the soul where she does not know what to do, who to follow or if, in her words, “is there no blessing for me?”

The key actors, Danielle Deadwyler (Jane) and Emily Goss (Emma) are terrific. The supporting cast is a little more hit-and-miss, but serviceable. Mormon filmmakers continue in the elusive quest to find an on-screen Joseph Smith who isn’t creepy. This film’s Joseph is…. yeah, he’s creepy. Lots of slow blinking and spouting spiritual maxims, but at the same time the interplay between him and Emma seemed more real and personal than any past depiction I can recall. K. Danor Gerald does well as Isaac James, showing a devotion to Jane that comes off as genuine on-screen.

Ultimately, this is a Mormon movie and will be difficult for non-members to fully appreciate. It speaks in some shorthand and deals with a time period that is of highly specific interest. But film’s broader theme, that all are alike unto God, should appeal to all. The depiction of a sisterhood tested by the worst of times is glorious in its difficult, thorny complexity. I hope the film gets broader attention outside of Utah. We need more opportunities to witness our unanswerable history and sit, if only for a moment, with those who struggle to answer the conflict between a faith they trust surrounded by a world of betrayal. In this respect, Jane and Emma compels us to follow the scripture and mourn with those who mourn. We are better because of it.