Alamy
By 2002, Viola Davis had won a Tony Award for playing Tonya in August Wilson’s play King Hedley II, but had yet to mark her mark on film. That changed with her brief but unforgettable turn in Denzel Washington’s directorial debut, Antwone Fisher. Davis plays Eva May, the titular protagonist’s estranged mother, who gave birth to Antwone in prison.
A deep-in-the-third-act reunion sees Antwone (Derek Luke) finally reconnecting with the woman who gave him up, telling her all about the good man he’s become (“I speak two languages, learning a third, never done drugs or even smoked a cigarette”). Without speaking a single word, Davis’ expression remains impassive, an entire lifetime of pain and regret, sadness and guilt etched onto her face. A simple piano line creeps in to amp up the sentiment, but the actor is doing all the heavy lifting. As Antwone kisses her on the cheek and leaves, Washington (wisely) keeps the camera on Eva May, a solitary tear rolling down her cheek before she sinks her head into her hands. In one under-five-minute scene, Davis, never going for the obvious acting choice, not only delivers the film’s emotional centre but also showcases the dynamic of power and restraint that has been present and correct her entire career.