First of all, I’m convinced that Tyler Perry must have been a sad, maltreated, and abandoned Black woman in a past life because, honestly, why do his movies always end on such emotionally brutal notes?
His movies leave you drained, and aching. His latest movie, Straw, is a gut-wrenching reflection on real-life struggles. I’m still reeling from the weight of it all.
I cried my heart out watching that film. It struck every emotional chord that I was left empty. Some reviews claimed it had a “good” ending. I’m sorry, but I just didn’t see it. Where was the good in that kind of heartbreak?
There’s so much to unpack in Straw, especially the raw and honest portrayal of poverty and helplessness through Janiyah's experience. Her story is familiar. It mirrors the lives of many single mothers who sacrifice endlessly, carry impossible burdens, and are still met with judgment, stigma, and unkindness. Even in the depths of hardship, she tried to hold it together until she couldn’t anymore.
The cruelty of her boss particularly unsettled me. This woman had worked diligently, yet she was laid off without empathy or support. While it’s fiction, the scenario is painfully real. Many of us have worked under uncaring employers who see us only as dispensable hands. You walk on eggshells around them. No matter what you do, it’s never enough.
And then there’s Officer Oliver, a symbol of every law enforcement officer who abuses their power. It doesn't matter if it's in America, Nigeria, or anywhere else. We've all seen versions of him. Officers who betray the oaths they swore to uphold, who weaponize their authority, and sometimes even their prejudice.
The trauma they cause ripples through families and communities because it was his actions that made Janiyah's day spin out of control.
Despite the overwhelming grief and injustice, Straw offered a little glimmer of hope. I appreciated the empathy shown by the bank manager, Nicole, and Detective Raymond. They brought moments of warmth, understanding, and empathy, especially between women. It was refreshing to see a narrative that breaks the cliché that women don’t support one another. When women stand together, it's beautiful, and when a woman rides for you, it hits differently.
Te most devastating blow for me was the death of Janiyah’s daughter, Aria. I expected a better ending where Aria would be rescued by the system, go on to become great with Nicole’s help, and offer her mother some sense of peace. But life does not always follow our scripts. Having recently lost my brother, I know this too well. Bad things happen to good people, to strong people, and it often makes no sense. Life doesn't always offer closure.
The ending didn’t give me catharsis. It left me suspended in grief, asking, "What now? What will happen to Janiyah?" But I've come to believe that not all life events allow us to purge our pain neatly. I had to create my own catharsis by imagining that the crowd outside the bank would speak up for her and that maybe her story would stir compassion and lead to a lesser sentence, or even a pardon.
Straw is more than a film. It’s a mirror held up to society, a raw look at how we fail people who are barely hanging on. It’s a call to kindness. A reminder that behind every tired face might be a Janiyah fighting battles we can not see.
I’m choosing to be softer with people. To listen more. To judge less.
Straw gets a 9/10 from me, not because it made me feel good, but because of how raw it was for me. Every character delivered well but Taraji is exceptionally talented.
