Review: Spoken Word ‘Wade in the Water,’ Powerful, Taut, and an Empathetic Cry from Blacks Living in America


“Wade in the Water,” the new short, spoken-word film directed by David Bianchi is taut, powerful, and, above all, a cry for empathy. Like Bianchi’s other projects, namely “You Can’t Hear Me” and “I Can’t Breathe,” the film is dark and gritty; the cinematography and spoken prose highlight a need in its protagonists to be heard, to be listened to, and to be understood. At slightly over nine minutes excluding credits, the film details a group of battered souls crying out into the night. Amidst continuing conversations in America of black shootings by police and police brutality, it’s frankly a needed one. But, as usual, Bianchi and company perform the material with tact. This is not an attack on institution but a cry for help; and, alongside the film’s other players, is executed appropriately and deftly. 

We, as Americans, often get lost in a bubble. If it didn’t happen to us we can’t understand it. It’s perhaps with this in mind that the production’s first speaker—scored to the film’s harmonious, almost hymnal score—is Joivan Wade (TV’s “Doom Patrol,” “The First Purge”) who was born in England and brings a unique perspective to the narrative, commenting on race relations in America. “In London, Blacks can be a slave to the knife, but out here “don’t shoot” seems to be the words that are taking our lives, so we sing “Wade in the Water” so that struggle can die,” Wade narrates. 

Wade in the water seems to be more than a title here, but a philosophy: its speakers remarking on their need to ‘wade in the waters’ of society, to test it out, to try to blend in, but also recognizing these waters weren’t built for them and they are slowly drowning in them. 

The film follows suit of Bianchi’s previous experiences, but with a heightened urgency. “You Can’t Hear Me” dealt with the concept that minorities in America are often unheard, and have to scream to be listened to. In “I Can’t Breathe,” and ode to the shooting of George Floyd, Bianchi narrated his heartbreaking experience about the events, and wears his heart on his sleeve, speaking of recognition of black-American issues in a solemn, prayer-like tone. However, “Wade in the Water,” while carrying that solemnity, hits home harder. It portrays repeated cries for assistance, for empathy from their fellow men and women, but cries that have hitherto fallen on deaf ears. 

What works about “Wade in the Water,” as with Bianchi’s other spoken word productions, is that his, and others’, calls to action are worn on their sleeves as heartache. The film isn’t an attack on institution, but rather a call for recognition. The film’s other speaker,  Llewellyn C. Radford II, adds to this, commenting on what can only be understood as trying and oppressive experiences, but calling attention to these experiences not with finger pointing but, frankly, entreaties. The additional musical harmonizing, including actor Onyi Love, further the proceedings. The soundtrack is done by Batu Sener; and that, along with the cinematography by Dave Perry, is hymnal and solemn; one can’t help but recall images of slavery and chain gangs, which I can only imagine was its makers intent. 

“Wade in the Water” is a hard film, but it oughtn’t be. With films like this, “12 Years a Slave,” and even Childish Gambino’s song “The Is America,” these issues have been present in the media for years, each one making a doleful point, a point to recognize issues that hurt the black community, to recognize the way these systems are represented in society, and, more importantly, to just listen. 

With solid production value, powerful acting by all involved, and stark images that stay with you, “Wade in the Water” may be Bianchi’s most ambitious yet. 

“Wade in the Water” was produced by Wall of Productions and Executive Producers Joivan Wade, David Bianchi, Tafara Makopa, and Percelle Ascott. You can watch the film on YouTube by clicking the link below.