The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

Theater stalwart and film newcomer George C. Wolfe helmed this HBO film adaptation of Rebecca Skloot’s book of the same name. Wolfe tried to create a film that celebrated black culture and innovation, while directing and writing a film about the lack of black authorship in important world events. This true story follows the late life of Deborah Lacks (Winfrey), the daughter of Henrietta Lacks, a black tobacco farmer who died from cancer in 1951. White savior Rebecca Skloot (Byrne) is made aware of the issue, as it was a public scandal, and tracks down the Lacks family for some clarification on who Henrietta really was.

I am probably missing out on a lot of information by not having read the book, but I can firmly say that that novel is much more interesting and informational than this film. Skloot recognizes the issues surrounding medical discovery wherein black subjects and innovators aren’t given the credit they deserve. Much worse is the idea that people of color’s bodies can be subject to medical experimentation without needed consent. The Lacks family never benefitted from Henrietta’s cells (named HeLa by the medical community) though billions of dollars are made from them every year, as well as countless medical discoveries. HeLa has helped in almost every form of medical research, and though the original harvester of the cells, Johns Hopkins, never sold them and therefore cannot be sued by the family, it’s still heartbreaking to know that their mother died, leaving them alone in the world, and yet others benefitted from her illness.

While this is a worthwhile effort, it’s lukewarm at best. Wolfe’s direction cares more about the over-the-top and grandiose. The narrative arc included peaks and valleys, wherein Rebecca and Deborah come to trust one another, then Deborah doesn’t, wash and repeat. Deborah is played to great effect by Winfrey, but she isn’t given enough to do. Deborah’s character has a unique perspective and narrative that shine through occasionally, but it is a ray of sunshine in a blizzard of morose, tepid storyline. Byrne is a solid comedian and supporting actress in everything she does, but here her only characteristics seem to be harried, unkempt, or celebratory over a newly unearthed piece of data. The actual nitty gritty history of scientific research is only slightly covered, and Henrietta Lacks is only seen in others’ points of views. This works best as a trailer or video companion to the book, not as an actual solid interpretation.