Basic premise: Janiyah Wiltkinson (Henson) is a single mom just trying to get through the day. She battles poverty, a sick daughter, a boss who doesn’t care, and an uncaring landlord. Then it all unravels and fast.
Key events:
1. Stress piling up: Janiyah’s daughter Aria has a seizure in the bathtub and needs medicine, but Janiyah can’t get home in time. Meanwhile, her landlord threatens eviction and her boss refuses to pay her.
2. Bank frustration: She heads to the bank to cash her paycheck only to be denied because she lost her ID. Overwhelmed, she panics and inadvertently escalates the situation.
3. Hostage situation: Things spiral gons come out, police surround the bank, and Janiyah becomes the center of a live-streamed standoff. Unexpectedly, her story sparks public sympathy and solidarity among other Black women, including a bank manager (played by Sherri Shepherd) and a negotiator cop (Teyana Taylor).
4. The twist: Janiyah’s daughter is actually dead Aria passed away from that seizure the night before. Janiyah’s interactions with Aria throughout the film were hallucinations she created to cope with the grief.
5. Emotional resolution: With help from Shepherd and Taylor’s characters, Janiyah finally surrenders. We’re left believing maybe she’ll get the help she needs.
One bad day can be too many: Janiyah isn’t a criminal she’s a mom overwhelmed by everyday fights. It’s a story about how little it takes before someone cracks when no help is available.
Invisible pain: The film digs deep into grief and mental breakdown. It shows how people can crumble and wander through days thinking everything is “real” even when it’s not.
Systemic failure: Banks, welfare systems, landlords, the police they all let Janiyah down. Perry highlights how small failures across society can pile up and wreck a person’s life.
Power of community: Despite the breakdown, Janiyah is saved by other Black women who see her pain and step in with empathy. Shepherd’s and Taylor’s characters aren’t clichés they’re lifelines when things hit rock bottom
Strengths
Taraji P. Henson: She’s the core of the film. Critics said she gives an “acting masterclass” and “intense-and-emotive” portrayal of Janiyah’s breakdown.
Supporting cast: Sherri Shepherd and Teyana Taylor bring heart and realism. They help ground the film when it gets heavy.
Emotional depth: Critics and audience alike responded to the rawness of Janiyah’s journey. The twist was called “insane” and deeply moving.
Straw Movie Review
Janiyah is a mom doing her best while spinning plates raising a sick kid, avoiding eviction, and working long hours for little pay. When her daughter, Aria, has a seizure in the bathtub, Janiyah can’t get home fast enough to help. Her boss refuses to pay her, her landlord threatens immediate eviction, and she suddenly finds herself locked out of her own life.
With no ID, she can’t even cash her small paycheck. She loses it emotionally and literally then ends up holding a bank teller at gunpoint. No, she’s not a criminal. She’s a desperate woman reduced to breaking the rules because there’s no system to support her.
Inside the bank, her situation is live-streamed and public opinion turns in her favor. A compassionate teller (Shepherd) and a Black female police negotiator (Taylor) see her pain and rally around her. Their belief in her humanity gives us hope.
Then comes the mind-bending twist: Aria is gone. She died the night before. Every moment Janiyah has spent with her since is a hallucination born of denial and unprocessed grief. No child, no principal calls, no CPS. All of it is pain made visible.
It’s not an action thriller it’s a psychological drama about grief and losing your grip when life finally says “no more.” Every small crisis compounds until Janiyah sees no way out. But she’s saved not by force, but by empathy.
Taraji Henson sells every scene. She makes you feel shattered, then silently flailed out by fear, exhaustion, and too much grief. Shepherd and Taylor offer compassionate chemistry that steadies the film when it spirals.
Yes, it gets melodramatic. Weather shifts from sunny to stormy, moments feel bought for drama, and the script swings between realism and convenience. But that’s part of Tyler Perry’s style he’s not titillating, he’s trying to puncture your heart. And with a performance like this at the center, it mostly works.
More than anything, Straw asks us to ask questions: What happens to the people who have no backup plan? When a mom can’t pay rent, can’t feed her child, can’t even prove she exists in the system does she become the villain or the victim? And what if what she’s screaming isn’t violence it’s a plea for help?
Bottom line: Straw is heavy and loud. It might feel like a soap at times. But it reminds us that behind every crisis is a person we should see, hear, and help long before they reach their last straw. And that final twist? It rips the rug out from under you, and demands empathy.
Overall Rating
7.5 out of 10
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