Summary
Undeniably well-constructed but dangerously long-winded, Black Cake is important television that also can’t quite get out of its own way.
Black Cake has a lot going for it. It’s adapted from the same-titled New York Times bestseller by Charmaine Wilkerson. It’s fronted by Mia Isaac, who is wonderful. And it’s about the verisimilitude of Black identity, the constant rebranding and reinventions a young woman must undergo as she tries to navigate a world that is hostile to her. But the eight-part odyssey, which debuted on Hulu with three hour-long episodes on November 1, 2023, is worryingly dull and tediously long-winded.
This shouldn’t be the case. There’s a chance, as always, that the white male perspective is too divorced from that of a runaway Jamaican girl navigating 60s and 70s racial hostility to effectively assess such a show, but I don’t think that’s it. Empathy isn’t a racial trait, after all. One must allow for the possibility that Black Cake isn’t very good, or at least isn’t as good as the book or, most charitably, as good as it perhaps could be.
Black Cake Season 1 Review and Plot Summary
Whatever is wrong here – and I will attempt to explain what I think is – there’s plenty that’s right. In an opening scene depicting Covey (Isaac) running toward the churning Caribbean Sea, it’s obvious the series is a looker. Through various iterations and against multiple backdrops, Isaac plays Covey amorphously, her name and demeanor shifting all the time.
Covey is on the run following the murder of her new husband Clarence “Little Man” Henry (Anthony Mark Barrow), to whom she was promised, against her will, to settle the debts of her father. Her carefree but slightly rebellious life is suddenly upended by circumstances outside of her control, which will become a theme throughout the rest of her life.
Covey eventually becomes Eleanor Bennett (Chipo Chung), who, after her death following a cancer diagnosis, leaves her estranged children, Byron (Ashley “Bashy” Thomas doing an alarming American accent) and Benny (Adrienne Warren), a flash drive full of recordings that Eleanor made to explain the finer details of her life – details that had been kept a secret her whole life.
The present-day scenes frame Covey’s coming-of-age travelogue, as well as exploring how the past informs the present, and deceptions shape the truth. But it’s a much less interesting era to spend time in than the past, and Black Cake suffers whenever it lingers here.
Better are the flashback scenes, overlaid with Eleanor’s narration, which admittedly constitutes the bulk of the show’s lengthy episodes. The death of Little Man forms something resembling a murder mystery, but Black Cake is rightly less interested in this than it is in Covey’s regular reinventions. The past sequences also have a much better sense of place, whether they’re in Jamaica – named here, whereas it wasn’t in the original book – or the Scottish Glens or in London.
Isaac shoulders all this better than anyone else in the ensemble. This is part of the reason why things aren’t as compelling whenever she isn’t the focus. The past is richer, with more palpable stakes, even if those sections aren’t immune to the odd thin or irritating supporting character. Even in those circumstances, though, Covey is the audience’s anchor, a reliably sympathetic but impressively determined guide through isolation and trauma. She’s missed when she isn’t around.
Is Black Cake a worthwhile adaptation?
There’s a case to be made that Black Cake is too longwinded either way. Episodes stretch to a full hour and struggle to fill the runtime. The great stuff is indeed great, but it’s flanked by mediocre, oddly empty stretches, with the same themes – important, though obvious and not uncommon – reiterated in various guises. Like Covey herself, the series is prone to repackaging the same things over and over, hoping that the new interpretation takes. After a while, you’ve got the point and then some.
It’s hard not to recommend this as an adaptation, though, especially to people for whom the messaging will resonate more strongly, and the undertones – racial, cultural, familial – will be more relatable. It’s undeniably well-constructed, layered television, and you can never have enough of that. But approach with caution. Black Cake thinks a little more of itself than it perhaps should.
What did you think of Black Cake Season 1? Let us know in the comments.
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