For John David Washington, bringing Netflix's The Piano Lesson (November 22) from stage to screen was a family affair. His father, Denzel, produces while his brother, Malcolm, directs the film adaptation of August Wilson's play about the Charles family in 1936 Pittsburgh as they wrestle with selling a family heirloom, a piano descended from ancestors who were slaves. "I don't think you have to be a Black American to relate to this story." But it wasn't just working with his family that meant something to him. "I'm thinking about Sam [Samuel L.] Jackson, who originated the role in 1987. Michael Potts. LaTanya [Richardson] Jackson. I'm thinking about Stephen [McKinley] Henderson. I'm a part of that now. That gives me so much power and encouragement." And while "the whale of truth that we're floating along here is the underbelly of the antebellum South, the Jim Crow era," Washington says the universal messages runs deeper. "If you understand that, we also talk about something else. It's what's so brilliant about August Wilson's work."
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Editor's Note: This conversation has been edited and condensed for publication.
How do you feel about this moment and this film being out in the world right now?
For lack of a better word, excited, anxious, curious and relieved. I've been living with this character since 2019, so I'm curious how people will respond to it, for one, and relieved that people are going to respond to it. I'm proud of the relationships I've made on it, proud of the artists that I got to see through their work and be fully in their artistry.
What about this character did you respond to?
Oh, man, how much time do you have? What stuck out the most and what was also the most challenging, due to my personal life, was his relationship with faith and death. There's big speeches in the play that aren't necessarily in the film, but he talks about how he has the power of death, too, how he had a dog that died, prayed to Jesus to make it live, and he didn't do it, so he went out and killed a cat. "See, I got it, too." So he's now not only taking on God as an enemy, but also society at large, the white man, if you will. But yet, at the same time, he feels like there's no difference in he and the white man, and the fact that it gives him power to feel equal, to feel American, just as American as these other folks, because of his relationship with death and loss and how he's been portrayed, how he feels he's been betrayed, was fascinating to me. Ultimately it was the love that I saw in reading and discovering what these words mean to me. The love that he wanted, that he coveted, that he had a hankering for from his family, I think he just wanted acceptance. I think he wanted his older sister to respect him like he respected her and loved her. I don't even think it was necessarily about selling the piano, but more about, will you forgive me? Can you tell me that I'm good enough, or tell me that I'm a man?
The discussion of lineage is complicated for many Black Americans because of horrors of slavery. So much of this story is about just that. What about that is so key to you for this story?
The universality of these themes here that August is talking about. There's multiple layers at work. I don't think you have to be an African American, a Black American, to relate to this story. The familial aspect of it, the family dynamics are relatable. I had some friends from Asia come see the play, they got every word. You just know a brother like this. You know a sister like this. Or you are that sister having to argue with your brother. You are an uncle seeing your nieces and nephews argue. You don't have to be Black to relate to that. And that's what I love about what's happening here. How do you use the past and build on it? Or, how can you erase the past and make it beneficial and start your own thing that's universal? What I found in the U.K., how they were relating to it, it was a beautiful thing, the feedback. So that's what the hope was for me, that people would just take this or find this to be personal to them, that they can relate to it, that they're not excluded from the conversation. Even though the whale of truth that we're floating along here is the underbelly of the antebellum South, the Jim Crow era. Nobody's denying that ever happened -- well, you know, some people are -- but if you understand that, that we also talk about something else. It's what's so brilliant about August Wilson's work and what Malcolm did.
And this experience, and what this family is going through, says so much about our own history and that African American history is American history, is U.S. history. It's so much more than just white dudes in white wigs.
I couldn't agree with you more. So a case to point to what you just said is the Doaker speech, how he goes into the family history of the piano and slavery. But it's described in such a way that isn't like a history lesson. We're talking about people that we, the audience members now know, are getting to know through this family and Laura listening to this awful thing that happened to him. But the way it's described in the way Sam [Jackson] plays it, it's like, oh my goodness, this is just inhumane. Let's forget about, slavery and all that, just on a human level, this is awful. So it almost becomes personal to the audience member because these people you've been watching on screen and you know that this is what they've gone through, and then the universal connection starts to act and starts to enter into your conscious and into your way of thinking. Like, "Okay, if this is a family that we've been watching, history has shown us there's millions of people that went through this." I love that part of it. I think it's great.
This film is such a family moment for you, with your brother directing, one sister producing, another sister in the movie and your father producing it. How did working so closely with members of your family impact how you were going to navigate this character?
We could start with the pressure of it. Can't mess this up, or your life as we know it, as an actor, for me, is over. But also, it extends to that idea, not just my family, I'm thinking about Sam Jackson, who originated the role in 1987 with August Wilson and Lloyd Richards. Michael Potts, who's done every one of Mr. Wilson's plays, knew August as well, knew Lloyd Richards as well. LaTanya [Richardson] Jackson, who directed the [2022] play, was a Wilsonian. I'm thinking about Stephen [McKinley] Henderson. I'm a part of that now. That gives me so much power and encouragement to be my best self. So, we all wanted the same thing. What you're feeling in the movie is that these newcomers, me, Corey Hawkins, Danielle Deadwyler, Ray Fisher, we are trying to carry on the legacy. And then it's going to be somebody else's turn, and that's how this thing goes. So that we were all in concert in that way of thinking, with Malcolm leading it. So you're feeling that love and that desperation to get it right, but not at the expense of the film's integrity or performances. There is a focus that is inherent through the desire to make sure we get this right.
I wanted to ask you specifically about working with your brother. The way we can communicate with our siblings is very different from that of a parent. What was that like?
I honestly didn't look at him as my brother. I'm a fan of his work, and I was excited to know that he wanted to direct. That's why I was on board. Because I wasn't sure if I was going to do the film. At first, I wanted to do the play. And when he signed up. I'm like, "It's go time." So he's not my little brother, I'm seeing this man and this incredible artist come into his own powers, being confident and learning at the same time and really executing a vision that we all believed in, that we were all ready to die on that hill for, you know what I mean? And I think that made me so proud. I had a great sense of pride knowing that when people discovered him, I was there, because he's gonna have a long career, he's gonna do great things, but I was there when it first started kicking off. I'm the lucky one to be a part of that.
We also need to talk about the incredible Samuel L. Jackson. What was it like working with him?
It was a trip. It felt like a real uncle. I consider him like a real uncle. He and Michael Potts, honestly, they bring so much experience. He's bringing the Hill District and all that history with him on that screen, onto the set. And it's there for you. If you ask him, he was very generous and kind with the information, he knows how important it is to pass this along. And both he and Michael Potts, it was an incredible thing to see him work. On stage and in the movie, when he talks about this 12-page monologue about the Sutter family and the Charles family in slavery and all that, how we were bought and sold, and how the piano got made. I'm looking at him in awe. All those words he's memorized, right? He doesn't have to do that. He's Sam Jackson. He's earned the right to do it however -- an earpiece, whatever he wants to do. But no, he cares that much. And he's a stage actor at the end of the day. Yes, he's a superstar, we know that, but what I loved [and] it was a great lesson, no matter how big you are, or how big you can get -- I mean, God-willing, I could be as big as him one day -- it's all about this. This is what the real work is about, and that's how he approached it. And I'll never forget that.
What is it about August Wilson that is so timeless and relatable?
I think the universality of family dynamics, no matter where you're from, you can relate to that. He's bringing the Hill District to every one of these stories. And I recently got to go there and sing and get to interact with those real people. I think he's got this unique ability to capture people, not just in essence, but literally how people talk. These are people in his head that he talks about, they start talking to him, and I believe, I don't think that's a metaphor, I think that's actually how he got his characters down, because even the N-words, they're so properly placed, nothing feels like a throwaway. Nothing feels like an accident. It's all intentional. And yet, he encourages you to perform it like a person. There's a music element to it. There's a rhythm to it that you don't have to find the character, it'll find you if you just open yourself up to it. And I think he's unique in that way, how the words, if you use them correctly, will tell you everything you need to know about the character.
There's a lot of Oscars buzz for this film. How does it feel to be part of that conversation?
I'm overjoyed that certain people in certain circles are talking about August Wilson that maybe don't even have a relationship to the theater [and] don't have a relationship to his work necessarily. Let's say they didn't see Fences or Ma Rainey's [Black Bottom], if this is their intro to an August Wilson play, then my goodness, mission accomplished. So now we're having this intersection with theater and cinema, and how powerful and how important great writing is. The universality of that writing has made it to certain circles that decide on these things. That's a huge win.
And I'll be furious if you, Danielle, Samuel, Malcom aren't recognized.
I think Danielle is extraordinary. I gotta say real quick, there's the memorable scene, the exorcism, you've seen where she went. But I got to give credit to Corey Hawkins, too. He started speaking in tongues. He set the tone for that scene. That's not in the script, speaking in tongues, and him just going to another place as Preacher Avery. And then Danielle just came in and did what she did. Was insane. I just wanted to shout him out, too, because what they were, what they tapped into as an actor, that's like pitching a perfect game.