The United States vs. Billie Holiday (2021 | USA | 130 minutes | Lee Daniels)

Billie Holiday was an incredible artist and a courageous person whose impact echoed long beyond her lifetime. Holiday’s music has deeply resonated despite her talents not receiving proper recognition until after her death. That death came at a tragically young age and stemmed from struggles with addiction. She was targeted by the U.S. government for that addiction and for singing the still mighty song “Strange Fruit” as it protested the lynchings of Black people.  

Despite being about such a historic figure with a committed central performance by singer Andra Day, The United States vs. Billie Holiday creates a middling-at-best biopic that is only barely salvageable. Holiday was absolutely more than deserving of a recent biopic as it has been a long time since 1972’s Lady Sings the Blues. She has now gotten one, though her life deserved a far better retelling than whatever this muddled film set out, and failed, to be. 

The bright spots almost entirely come from Andra Day as Holiday. Day has not just captured the cadence and vocal stylings of the singer, she has imbued her with complexity that the film only barely scratches the surface of. There is a weight on Holiday’s shoulders that Day shows honestly and compassionately. Her life was a painful one where she faced persistent racist surveillance and abuse by a government out to destroy her life at every opportunity.

Writer Suzan-Lori Parks deserves credit for attempting to show how the unremitting targeting took a toll on Holiday. It shows how the larger-than-life figure was also a person that, when faced with more than a decade of government sponsored abuse, could only take so much. Holiday was not a broken person at her core, but was rather damaged by a harsh environment. Parks’s screenplay works to establish this theme and Day’s performance makes it clear that this is a story of profound loss.

The unfortunate thing is that this is the most generous reading of how the film actually plays out. Director Lee Daniels has, despite the underlying emotional resonance, managed to make the film feel both cold and disconnected from the reality of Holiday’s life. The film often sidelines Holiday, making her a secondary character in her own life story.

This is most clear when Holiday is subject to a government raid and sent to prison on trumped-up charges. Her time in prison passes in montage with no emphasis or understanding lent to how that experience shaped her. It makes for inexplicably poor framing to have Holiday be sectioned off so thoroughly. Instead, the film spends this time with the people who put her there. 

This is primarily Jimmy Fletcher (Trevante Rhodes) a FBI agent who initially infiltrates Holiday’s life to arrest her and subsequently forms a complicated relationship with her. Fletcher is an ex-G.I. who was recruited by Federal Bureau of Narcotics Chief Harry Anslinger (Garrett Hedlund) in order to take part in a racist drug war that operates under the guise of public safety.

Fletcher seems to genuinely believe that he is doing good work, saying it is necessary to help communities impacted by drugs. Yet when Holiday is in prison, he does seem to have a crisis of conscience when one of her friends correctly points out to him that her addiction was primarily hurting herself. Sending her to prison would not not help anyone other than the government who wanted to silence her, something Fletcher seemed largely oblivious to until it was too late. 

All of this is to say that it is a strange narrative choice to center Fletcher and, by proxy, push Holiday to the margins in these moments. The film really begins to strain credulity by offering a halfhearted, unearned redemption arc for Fletcher. This arc comes complete with a sappy monologue from Fletcher in defense of Holiday later in the film, though it is meaningless grandstanding at best and an ahistorical downplaying of his role in her arrest at worst. 

There also is a bizarre out of left field appearance by Leslie Jordan who appears as an eccentric, aloof journalist interviewing Holiday. It is a strange back and forth, way out of tune with the rest of the film that is hyper present in the early scenes before being mercifully, albeit randomly, dropped. It is all part of persistent distraction from what should be the focus: Holiday. 

The best moments come when Holiday has center stage all to herself, with a scene at Carnegie Hall letting Day make full use of her immense singing talents. She absolutely commands the stage and Daniels shows rare restraint in letting her performance carry the scene. She gives a brief yet telling monologue that speaks volumes and Day brings a refreshing amount of depth to the scene. This is followed by a showstopping performance that is the best moment in the film. 

Unfortunately, many of the other performance scenes are particularly poorly edited. The film seems unwilling to stop using crossfade after crossfade away from the performance itself. At times, this makes sense as it shows the turmoil in Holiday’s life that is then juxtaposed with the graceful performances she gives. This nuance is a rarity in the rest of the film. The repetition of glimpses of Holiday performing followed by interjections of her struggles begin to lose any sense of purpose and drastically drag the film down.

Instead, most of the scenes seem unwilling to let Holiday give an uninterrupted performance. There is an underappreciated simplicity and beauty to be had in just letting the focus of your film get several minutes to perform a song. That is where Holiday excelled above all her peers and yet the film shys away from letting that talent shine.

Most centrally, the film is about a country that dehumanized and diminished Holiday. The film’s cold detachment to her skews dangerously close to partaking in that diminishment. Even with Day doing everything she can, she can’t overcome the trappings of the regrettably standard biopic that loses sight of the person it is ostensibly about. It doesn’t work to establish grand themes, instead punishing the audience who watches Holiday face worse situation after worse situation. Holiday’s life was hard and painful, though she needn’t be punished by the film as well. 

The conclusion lacks any sort of catharsis or thematic resolution, instead offering an abrupt end that is only a relief because the film itself is over. It is a film that manages to be both conventional and messy. Despite its greater aspirations, The United States vs. Billie Holiday is a deeply flawed attempt at capturing the humanity of a larger than life historic figure. It is only anchored by a strong central performance that tries to rise above the rest of the film around her. 

The United States vs. Billie Holiday is available on Hulu beginning February 26.
(Photos from Paramount Pictures courtesy Hulu)