This is an excellent example of how to be tone deaf in 2019. In a year when African-American filmmakers and actors dominated both the box office and the awards shows, this white-bread corn muffin of a throwback warms over a '90s approach to race relations and passes it off as drama. Not only are the racial politics of the movie incredibly obtuse, the story itself is an inert slog of a literal road trip through a neutered Deep South. Pair this up with "In the Heat of the Night" and the contrast between gritty realism and this film's fantasy land is STARK. What's more remarkable is the former is fiction while this is massaged from supposedly true events. We hated it. We hated it so, so much. Thanks, Academy.

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