by D. Movieman

The Spanish philosopher George Santayana once cautioned that “Those who cannot
remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Similarly, French novelist Jean-
Baptiste Alphonse Karr once observed, “The more things change, the more they stay
the same.”
Both sentiments reflect the frustrating persistence of injustice despite apparent
progress. This dynamic was brutally exemplified in the undermining of General William
Tecumseh Sherman’s Field Order No. 15, which once promised formerly enslaved
people a chance at land, legacy, and autonomy through the historic “40 acres and a
mule” order. That promise was quickly rescinded during Reconstruction, setting in
motion a pattern of systemic dispossession that has echoed across generations.
Through the historically allusive 40 Acres, R.T. Thorne reframes this unresolved legacy
through a lens of reclamation and resistance.
Set in a harsh future where society has collapsed and the sins of the past feel
oppressively close, the follows Hailey Freeman (Danielle Deadwyler), a tough, no-
nonsense matriarch fighting to protect her family’s land in rural Canada. In a world now
ravaged by a global pandemic, widespread famine, and the outbreak of a new civil war,
the Freeman farm functions as both haven and fortress—shielded from the chaos
outside by electric fences and fortified within by a combat-trained family. In the film’s
particularly brutal opening, the ever-present threat of scavengers and raiders is made
painfully clear—drawn to any signs of stability, land, or control.

But underneath Hailey’s armored resolve lies greater fear: Fear that everything she
holds dear will be lost, taken, or destroyed. Fear that the land her family clings to, the
rituals they preserve, the legacy they stand to inherit will be scratched out of existence if
they aren’t ready to defend it at any cost. For her, militancy IS motherhood, even as her
lack of parental affection threatens to alienate her from her children. Manny (Kataem
O’Connor), her oldest child and already on the cusp of adulthood, begins to feel the
deeper cost of their safety—freedom, kinship, community, purpose, peace.
The growing tension between mother and son forms the emotional core of the film, and
soon enough, the mysterious threat outside becomes a grim extension of the emotional
standoff brewing within the family. Danielle Deadwyler—whose performances are built
from interwoven strands of strength, sorrow, resilience, and vulnerability—excels again
as Hailey. While O’Connor holds his own in their key scenes, his impact is strongest
when he leans into Manny’s quiet frustration and yearning for connection.

A First Nations actor, Michael Grayeyes embodies a quiet, steady presence as Galen,
one that hides a restrained but deadly edge —reinforcing the film’s portrait of Canada as a fragile refuge for a blended Black and Indigenous family navigating intergenerational survival.
While the film shines with thematic ambition, it also misses key opportunities to enrich
its emotional core, particularly by skimming over character relationships and
backstories. Hailey’s connection with Galen stands out in this regard—their bond lacks
on-screen intimacy, both emotional and physical, making the relationship feel more
symbolic than lived-in.

Kataem O’Connor brings clear intent to the role of Manny, but the character ultimately
struggles to resonate. His arc—rooted in disillusionment and generational tension—has
potential, yet uneven delivery and limited development hold it back. These flaws are
especially noticeable alongside Danielle Deadwyler’s emotionally precise performance,
which elevates the material and inadvertently highlights the gaps in both Manny’s
writing and portrayal. The result is a character who feels more frustrating than fully
realized.
Despite some of its narrative shortcomings, 40 Acres is an impressively thoughtful
blending of historical allegory, complicated family ties, and stark, unflinching violence.
The film’s most haunting reminder is that history doesn’t need to repeat itself to harm
us—it simply needs to be ignored.

Rating: 8/10.