Redefining the Storybook Romance in ‘Grace & Saleem’
A clever and complex take on modern dating in Trinidad and Tobago.
Shevonne Metevier and Kyle Hernandez in Grace & Saleem
Photo: Jian Hennings
Sex-positive and Caribbean aren’t words that I often pair together. The opening scene of Grace & Saleem, from Trinidbagonian director Jian Hennings, broke the mold where we see Grace (Shevonne Metevier) casually enjoying herself in the bathroom of a house party. The sex scene punctuated her obvious boredom and solidified our heroine as a do-as-I-like free soul. As quickly as we’re introduced to the party, she’s leaving it.
What comes next shattered my hopes of non-judgemental sexual expression when Grace meets Saleem outside and begs him a ride into town. Saleem (Kyle Hernandez) is her stark opposite, a quiet, yet judgemental, man who wears the nice guy trope like a badge. It’s clear they know of each other as people whose opposite but adjacent circles in small cities tend to, but they aren’t friends.
On the drive, they launch into a philosophical debate where Saleem’s judgment monster rears its ugly head, shooting at Grace “everything has an expiry date, even sluts.” Lady-boner gone.
I was sure it was over for Saleem. He has to be too square and inexperienced to handle a firecracker like Grace. This nice guy is really a people pleaser, rule follower, but is he living?
The simple favour transformed into what some would call a “walk in the park” date. Grace joins Saleem on his errands to balance out the slight inconvenience she’s caused him. They stop at a store, for doubles, his family’s event prep, and in a cane field where Saleem, a practicing Muslim, prays.
While race and religion show up in every chapter of Grace & Saleem, Hennings makes a point to not center these instances around conflict, but simply as part of a character’s identity that exists and is represented with respect in the film.
Trinbagonian researcher Halima-Sa'adia Kassim, talks about the multiplicity of Muslim identities in Trinidad in a 2016 research paper. She writes, “it is not unusual to find in Trinidad many multi-religious homes where there is the presence of Muslims, Hindus, Presbyterians, Roman Catholics, and Christians though one group identity may predominate as a result of conversion or marriages.”
Kassim proffers that for the modernist Muslim, education and socioeconomic status have “prompted the de-linking of identities and adherence to or conforming to traditional practices such as religious endogamy, which is still a preference particularly among the Muslim community”.
The pair get to know each other without the pressure of money spent, or the expectation of sex. Saleem is not about that life. As road trips go, you either come out of it hating your travel companion or forging a deeper connection. Either way, you gon’ learn. Jennings artfully crafted shared experiences where the two could move beyond the prejudiced views they started with at the party.
Jennings also capitalizes on the opportunity to show the beauty of parts of Trinidad that aren’t often showcased on screen, front-loading the first of three chapters with the bulk of the film’s fireworks. Throughout the journey, their tolerance develops layers, and a friendship is created despite some clear resistance. At the doubles spot when Grace bucks up an uptown friend of hers, she lies about her new feelings for Saleem in the film’s most shallow exchange.
By the end of the daylong road trip, the first of three chapters of this love story, a date was set, Chapter 2. The little gestures, moments of touch, pockets of joy in the day, and play primes us for the less adventurous sit-down date Grace & Saleem plan next.
Grace doesn’t abandon her laid back vibe now that the pair are confined to societal rules of a moodily lit restaurant. She dash the people dem good good salt and pepper on the table to illustrate how she and Saleem can work despite their vastly polarizing personalities. Like wifi, she is always “on”.
Saleem, on the other hand, is a bag of nerves. He is out of his element and it shows. Enter their Genie-like waiter (Kern Samuel), a pushy therapist type who reminds us that we’re midway through a romantic comedy. He gives Saleem what could be considered a pep talk while Grace steps away. Saleem finds a groove and they share vulnerable moments and the sweetness of becoming exponentially fond of someone and learning something new about them.
Mercury must have been in Retrograde for Chapter 3. It’s Christmas and the couple get their wires crossed about whose family gathering they’d attend first. The accident presents a great opportunity for each of them to learn about the other through the eyes of the ones that love them.
I watched Grace & Saleem in the comfort of my living room during the 2020 CaribbeanTales Film Festival. Director Jian Hennings, present for a talkback after the screening, said he left the ending open so we could “check up on them in 5 to 10 years and see actors get older.” I can accept that a neatly wrapped ending would be off-brand for Grace & Saleem. Check us back in 2025.
In the meantime, Hennings teased a possible horror flick as his third feature. Watch his debut film Back to Freeport on Kweli TV.
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