It’s not unusual for a documentary to be a tear-jerker. Stories of unusual connection or unusual bravery tend to make for good cinema, so when the film features real people, it’s even more affecting. But even by those standards, “Daughters” (on Netflix), directed by Natalie Rae and Angela Patton, is extraordinarily moving.
The film focuses on the Date With Dad program, which Patton has led for more than 12 years as part of her community work with Black girls. The children are brought to the prisons where their fathers are incarcerated for a party with dancing, refreshments and opportunities to take photos and talk. Socials like these might be run of the mill for many Americans, but for these families they’re extraordinary: Prisons have increasingly stopped in-person visits (known as “touch visits”) between family members, resorting instead to video and phone calls. Furthermore, incarcerated people can be moved from institution to institution, sometimes far from their families. For some fathers, these events may be the only time during their sentences that they can interact with their daughters in person.
The film focuses on several girls, ages 5 to 13, as well as on their imprisoned fathers. The men who are eligible to participate in Date With Dad are required to first attend a 10-week coaching program led by a mentor. These sessions are captured in the documentary, and feel a lot like group therapy. Rae and Patton spend equal time with the girls and the men, letting us listen as they talk about their hopes, their fears, their relationships with their own parents, their regrets and a lot more. Women, too, are part of the story: For many who have been pushed into operating as both mother and father, it’s a fraught decision to even allow their daughters this contact. Their strength is remarkable.
There are a lot of tears in this documentary, for the subjects and the audience, too. But “Daughters” is a remarkable study in how to tell this kind of story without twisting into sentimentality. I had assumed “Daughters” would conclude with the dance, with the glad reunions, tears, joy and the promise of closer relationships, but Rae and Patton are more invested in candor than in a happy ending. They’ve constructed the film to show the range of emotions that the girls have toward their fathers, even at the dance, where some are overjoyed and weeping and others are clearly struggling with their feelings.
After the dance, the film continues to check in with some of the subjects for several years, exploring how the program affected their futures but also how their fathers’ continued imprisonment profoundly shaped the girls’ lives. Plenty of it is good. But rebuilding a family torn apart by the often unpredictable prison system is hard work, and it doesn’t always go the way we want. When hope does exist, it’s hard-won. And “Daughters” lets us feel all of that, too.
Read More: Girls, Imprisoned Fathers and the Moving Reality of ‘Daughters’
