"Time is a tender embrace."
Raven Jackson's ode to Black rural life in All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt
There is a promising new film that is coming out “soon” that I am very excited to see.
All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt is a feature narrative film by Raven Jackson that centers on the life of Mack, a Black woman in Mississippi. The story spans from Mack’s childhood to adulthood in the rural South. From what I can tell from the trailer, the film is nonlinear, cinematically vivid, and has sparse dialogue—it’s feels like more of a cinematic meditation than a three-part narrative.
On Raven Jackson’s website, the synopsis reads: “A decades-spanning exploration of a woman’s life in Mississippi and an ode to the generations of people, places, and ineffable moments that shape us.”
Although I have yet to see this film, I consider nonlinearity an apt decision when depicting a character’s life. Nonlinear storytelling gives the characters and the story the freedom to jump forward or backward in an instant while also relating to the central plot or action of a scene. Characters, and their worlds, become more than a single need or desire to drive the story—they become living entities, sometimes withering away, other times a bit aimless. This reflects the everyday reality of human existence. Some days I am driven, other times I just want to disappear into the forest for a little while. We are more than our goals yet our lives become the sum of our dreams.
Nonlinear storytelling also reflects the impact of time on memory, which makes me think of aging. My grandma told me that before my Nana died—as she was crossing over—she spoke to relatives that were long-dead as if they were still living. She called out the names of aunts, cousins, and grandchildren. She relived memories from her life.
All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt is a place-based film.
My relationship with “place” and ideas of “home” has been fraught due to the feeling that I belong anywhere and nowhere. Even as a child, I was always fascinated with travel and being far away from home, which was never safe for me. Home was just the place my family and I lived for a bit, not a place where I felt fully connected.
If I could identify my home, it is wherever there are lush green trees and fertile forests, close to a body of water, with lots of land and space to breathe/think. Cities suffocate my mind with constant noise and the need to always be on guard.
This is why Chicago felt so safe for me for so long. Although it is a city, there are parts that remind me of the rural Southern town my maternal ancestors are from. Trenton is a town with a population of 226 people, or less. There is an abundance of red clay dirt roads and rows upon rows of peach trees. Pecan and pine trees populate my Nana’s yard. Old Baptist churches that have held multiple generations of Black and White families surrounded by miles of graveyards.
One of my favorite memories is when my Nana, my brother, and I would drive in her navy blue Cadillac along winding roads to the fruit stands. We’d pick fresh peaches for cobblers and scuppernong grapes, which were my favorite.
More recently, when I was fresh out of undergrad, I lived in Trenton for a year. I spent most of my time reading, writing, or applying for jobs through Craigslist. Some days, my grandmother and I would go to a freshwater creek and bring water back in green glass bottles. On a particularly hot day, I remember how soothing it was to feel the water—fresh, cool, and sweet—going down my throat.
I miss the quiet and stillness of the South the most. Living in the South gave me a greater appreciation for the small meaningful moments that are often forgotten. The poetry of a lace curtain flowing in the hot summer breeze during golden hour. The sound of crickets at night. Eating scuppernong grapes on a swing. Looking through handed-down cake and cobbler recipes. Sitting on the front porch in comfortable silence with an elder.
In an interview with Criterion, Raven Jackson revealed that she studied poetry and photography before turning to film. This is apparent in all of her works, but definitely in her short film NETTLES (2018). Made up of six micro-short films, NETTLES explores the “stinging moments” that mark the lives of various women with striking, poetic visual language. I appreciate her focus on moments and the act itself that leaves a lasting impact on a person for years. She treats each moment as a short poem, a brief and incomplete snapshot of a person’s life. I am inspired by the way this film provides little context yet a depth of meaning for how these relatable moments could shape these characters.
You can watch NETTLES on Criterion.
I watched the trailer for All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt and just did a full body sigh. I can't wait to see it on the big screen!
Can’t wait for you to see the film, if you haven’t already. would love to read your thoughts on the film after watching.