CHIP BERGMANN/PERRY WELL FILMS 2/COURTESY NETFLIX
Tyler Perry’s latest Netflix thriller, Straw, arrives with the emotional punch of a pressure cooker. Lead Taraji P. Henson stars as Janiyah, a single mother whose desperate circumstances spiral into a dramatic bank hostage situation. Perry’s formula is familiar: systemic injustice, maternal sacrifice, and sudden violence. Yet, this time, the stakes feel raw, prompting a sharp divide among critics and viewers.
Henson delivers a riveting, soul-baring performance. As she navigates Janiyah’s crushing grief after the loss of her daughter, she grounds the film in authenticity. Critics praised her portrayal, with Entertainment Weekly calling it “intense and emotive,” and The Washington Post acknowledging how it “channels the desperation and resilience of overworked, underpaid, and stressed-out single mothers”. Henson defended Perry’s vision by telling Decider, “discussing such struggles is essential for healing within the Black community,” underscoring the film’s emotional urgency.
But not all responses are glowing. The Guardian criticized Perry for leaning too heavily on melodramatic tropes and accused him of “exploiting Black trauma” under the guise of drama. Decider’s review aligned with this sentiment, noting the story feels “clumsy and contrived,” undermining its serious themes.
These tensions reflect broader debates around Perry’s work. His reliance on dramatic crescendos and soap-opera pacing can overshadow deeper social commentary. Yet it’s precisely this boldness that has amplified voices often sidelined by mainstream media.
As echoed by EEW Magazine, “Straw digs deep into Black women’s trauma and the sisterhood that unites us”. The film also centers collective empathy: Sherri Shepherd’s bank manager and Teyana Taylor’s detective form a makeshift village amid crisis, embodying communal solidarity.
“Straw” weaves systemic critiques with human intimacy, but unevenly. Sudden rainstorms and plot twists feel earnest but overcooked. Still, its core theme, the struggle of Black working mothers, hits home. People’s review of the ending reveals the film’s emotional thread: Janiyah’s breakdown and a public outpouring of support allow her to surrender peacefully, a rare moment of grace.
“Straw” isn’t a perfect film, but it is a heartfelt one. It balances storytelling ambition with meaningful performances, rallying around empathy and shared trauma. Yes, it drenches us in melodrama. But in doing so, it amplifies lived experiences that many ignore. With national conversations on motherhood, mental health, and racial equity gaining momentum, “Straw” becomes a kind of film that seems to urgently matter.
