"Meanwhile": A Docu-Poem of Black Resilience and Breath

Introduction

"Meanwhile," a groundbreaking film now in theaters, defies easy categorization. Its creators describe it as a "docu-poem," a bold and unconventional choice in the world of feature-length cinema. This innovative blend of nonfiction storytelling and poetic expression is rare on the big screen, but director Catherine Gund pulls it off with remarkable grace. By weaving together the works of multidisciplinary artists, the writings of author Jacqueline Woodson, the soundscapes of musician Meshell Ndegeocello, archival footage, and intimate interviews, the film crafts a powerful exploration of Black resilience. "Meanwhile" is less a traditional documentary and more a visceral, emotional journey—one that breathes life into the struggles and triumphs of Black Americans.

The Concept of the "Docu-Poem"

At its core, "Meanwhile" is an experiment in form and function. Poetry, by its very nature, thrives on surprise, juxtaposition, and unsettling imagery. Gund embraces this essence, using the medium of film to elevate poetry into a new dimension. The result is a cinematic experience that feels both deeply personal and universally relatable. The film’s structure is fluid, moving seamlessly between art, music, and spoken word to create a tapestry of emotions and ideas. It’s a daring approach, but one that pays off beautifully, inviting viewers to lean in and reflect on the themes of breath, resilience, and freedom.

Breath as a Central Theme

The spine of "Meanwhile" is not a narrative or a single character but the act of breathing. The film returns repeatedly to the sound of breath, weaving it into its soundscape like a heartbeat. This intimate focus is more than symbolic; it’s an invitation to consider the fragility and necessity of life itself. For Black Americans, the act of breathing has often been politicized—whether through the violence of systemic oppression or the collective gasps of grief and rage in response to tragedies like the death of George Floyd. Yet the film doesn’t stop at pain; it expands outward, exploring what it means to find joy and thrive in a world that often seeks to extinguish Black life.

The Role of Artists and Activists

"Meanwhile" suggests that artists and activists are the breath-givers of their communities. They create spaces for collective inhalation, offering hope and inspiration to those who are struggling to survive. The film is filled with archival footage of Black Americans enduring hardship, but it doesn’t dwell on suffering. Instead, it looks backward and forward, tracing the ways in which art and activism have sustained Black communities across generations. It’s a celebration of resilience, but also a call to action—a reminder that freedom and joy are not static states but ongoing processes.

Poetry as Provocation and Invitation

Like all good poetry, "Meanwhile" doesn’t offer easy answers. It gestures toward meaning, trusting its audience to fill in the gaps. This approach can feel provocational, even challenging, but it’s also deeply inviting. The film asks us to consider what flourishing looks like in the midst of chaos—not just for Black Americans, but for anyone struggling to find their breath in a world that often feels suffocating. It’s a film about freedom, but not in the abstract; it’s about the lived experience of freedom, the kind that requires work, imagination, and community.

Conclusion

"Meanwhile" is more than a film; it’s an experience. It’s a testament to the power of art to capture the complexity of human life, to hold both grief and joy in the same frame. By blending poetry, music, and documentary storytelling, Gund has created something truly unique—a film that feels like a living, breathing entity. As Nina Simone once said, "Freedom is a feeling," and "Meanwhile" captures that feeling in ways both intimate and expansive. It’s a film about breath, resilience, and the enduring quest for freedom—one that will leave viewers reflecting long after the credits roll.