‘Little Boxes’ Blu-ray (review)

Tribeca Fims

On Blu-ray for the first time, 2016’s Little Boxes, directed by Rob Meyer, is a poignant yet understated exploration of race, identity, and family dynamics.

The film follows an interracial family as they transition from the diverse, urban environment of Seattle to a predominantly white suburban town in Washington.

It examines the subtleties of cultural dislocation, microaggressions, and the search for belonging while centering on the family’s interpersonal relationships.

The story focuses on Clark, a Black writer played by the late Nelsan Ellis; Gina, his optimistic but occasionally naive white wife (Melanie Lynskey); and their biracial son Franklin (Armani Jackson).

As they settle into their new environment, each family member faces unique challenges.

Clark endures the patronizing curiosity of neighbors who view him more as a cultural artifact than an individual. Gina attempts to integrate into the local art scene but struggles with the tension between her artistic identity and the demands of suburban life. Meanwhile, Franklin becomes the focal point of the film’s exploration of identity, grappling with the racial othering and exoticism imposed by his peers. Jackson’s performance effectively captures Franklin’s mix of confusion, frustration, and resilience as he navigates these complexities.

The film is strongest in its depiction of the everyday nuances of racial bias. Clark’s interactions highlight the microaggressions he faces, often cloaked in the guise of well-meaning curiosity. Similarly, Franklin’s identity struggles reflect the pressures biracial children often face in predominantly white spaces, including being simultaneously exoticized and misunderstood. Yet, while these moments invite reflection, the film’s gentle approach to these issues can feel too muted, especially in light of the more confrontational racial discourse that has emerged since its release.

When Little Boxes premiered in 2016, America was already grappling with the complexities of race relations. The Obama presidency had brought issues of racial identity and systemic inequality into mainstream conversations, but the election of Donald Trump exposed deep societal divisions. The film captured the unease of that transitional moment, especially for families navigating predominantly white environments that profess inclusivity but fail to fully embrace diversity.

Since then, the social landscape around race has shifted dramatically. Events like the killings of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor and the subsequent global protests in 2020 have intensified public awareness of systemic racism, police brutality, and the need for genuine accountability. The resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement has forced deeper conversations about allyship, privilege, and the performative nature of some progressive spaces—issues subtly touched upon in Little Boxes but not explored in depth. In today’s context, the film’s understated critique feels like a precursor to the bolder narratives now dominating public consciousness.

The suburban setting of Little Boxes remains an apt metaphor for the challenges of racial integration and the performative liberalism of many predominantly white communities. Franklin’s experience as a biracial child mirrors contemporary discussions about representation and the nuanced pressures of forging an identity in spaces that tokenize diversity. Gina’s attempts to bridge her artistic ambitions with the constraints of suburban conformity highlight the struggles of negotiating cultural and professional identity in environments resistant to change.

However, the film’s reliance on familiar suburban clichés and its tidy resolution undermine its more provocative themes. While the performances by Ellis, Lynskey, and Jackson elevate the material, the supporting characters sometimes feel like caricatures, diluting the film’s authenticity. In contrast to more recent films like Waves or Minari, which tackle identity and systemic issues with greater complexity, Little Boxes feels restrained, even quaint.

In 2024, Little Boxes serves as both a time capsule and a reminder of how far the conversation about race and identity has progressed. Its exploration of microaggressions, cultural dislocation, and biracial identity remains relevant, but its gentle critique feels out of step with today’s more urgent and layered narratives. While its warmth and humor continue to resonate, the film ultimately leaves viewers wanting a deeper dive into the complexities it raises.

Little Boxes is a thoughtful, character-driven exploration of family and race, but its understated approach limits its impact in a post-2020 landscape. Its messages are still meaningful, but its muted tone may no longer feel sufficient in a world increasingly demanding narratives that confront systemic inequality and inspire critical reflection. As such, the film stands as a reflection of its time, capturing the subtleties of racial dynamics while reminding us how much the conversation has evolved.