Charles Burnett is a name that usually makes film students lean forward and casual moviegoers tilt their heads in confusion. That’s a shame. It’s actually a travesty. His 1990 masterpiece, To Sleep with Anger, is one of those rare films that feels like a ghost story told in a bright, sunny kitchen. It’s a domestic drama, sure, but it’s also a supernatural folk tale disguised as a family reunion in South Central Los Angeles. If you haven't seen it, you're missing out on Danny Glover’s most chilling, charismatic, and downright weird performance.
Honestly, the movie operates on a frequency that most modern cinema just can’t tune into. It doesn't rely on jump scares or heavy-handed exposition. Instead, it uses the "old country" folklore of the American South to infect a modern black family’s home.
What is To Sleep with Anger Actually About?
At its core, the film follows Gideon and Suzie, a middle-class couple living a quiet life. They have chickens in the yard. They have a son who is a bit of a flake and another who is trying too hard to be "respectable." Everything is fine until Harry enters the picture. Harry, played by Danny Glover, is an old friend from the South who shows up on their doorstep with a suitcase and a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
He’s a "haint." Or maybe he’s just a bad influence.
Burnett plays with the idea of the "trickster" figure from African American folklore. Harry isn't a villain in the mustache-twirling sense. He’s more like a catalyst for the latent resentments already simmering under the floorboards. When he arrives, the milk goes sour. People get sick. Old grudges turn into physical fights. It’s basically about how the past—the dusty, superstitious, sometimes violent past—refuses to stay buried.
The movie explores the tension between generations. You have the older folks who still believe in "tobies" (charms) and bad omens, and the younger generation that thinks all of that is backward nonsense. But as Harry lingers, even the skeptics start to feel the weight of something they can't explain.
✨ Don't miss: Who was the voice of Yoda? The real story behind the Jedi Master
Why Danny Glover’s Performance is a Career Peak
We all know Glover from Lethal Weapon. We know him as the "I’m too old for this" guy. But in To Sleep with Anger, he is terrifyingly subtle. He uses a soft, raspy voice. He tells stories about people losing their souls or getting struck by lightning as if he’s recounting a grocery list.
There’s a specific scene where he’s sitting at the kitchen table, and he just... exists. But the way he occupies the space makes you feel like the walls are closing in. He brings a sense of ancient, weary evil into a space that was supposed to be a sanctuary. It’s a performance that should have won every award available in 1990, but the film was a slow burn that didn't get the mainstream marketing push it deserved.
Critics like Roger Ebert championed it, calling it a "superb film" and noting how it captures a specific rhythm of life. It’s not fast. It’s slow like a humid afternoon. You have to sit with it.
The Folklore and the "Toby"
A lot of people watch this and get confused by the objects. There’s a "toby"—a small bag or charm used in Hoodoo traditions—that plays a central role. In the film, a young boy accidentally touches Harry’s toby, and things go downhill fast.
Is it magic? Is it psychological? Burnett doesn’t give you an easy answer. He leaves it up to you to decide if the family is falling apart because of a curse or because they were already fragile. This ambiguity is what makes the movie stick in your brain for weeks. You start looking at your own "guest room" and wondering what kind of energy your visitors are bringing in.
🔗 Read more: Not the Nine O'Clock News: Why the Satirical Giant Still Matters
The Struggle of Independent Black Cinema in the 90s
It's worth mentioning that making To Sleep with Anger was a Herculean task. Charles Burnett is part of the "L.A. Rebellion," a group of Black filmmakers who wanted to tell stories that weren't just about "the struggle" in a cliché way. They wanted art. They wanted complexity.
Even with a star like Danny Glover attached, getting the film distributed was a nightmare. SONY Pictures Classics eventually picked it up, but it never hit the multiplexes the way a thriller should. This is why it’s often labeled a "lost gem." It’s a movie that exists in the margins, beloved by cinephiles but overlooked by the general public.
How it Ranks Against Burnett’s Other Work
Most people know Burnett for Killer of Sheep. That was his breakout, a gritty, black-and-white look at life in Watts. Killer of Sheep is poetic and raw. To Sleep with Anger is different. It’s more polished, more narrative-driven, but it keeps that same poetic soul. If Killer of Sheep is a blues song, To Sleep with Anger is a tall tale told over a glass of moonshine.
The cinematography by Walt Lloyd is warm and golden. It contrasts beautifully with the creeping rot that Harry introduces. Every frame feels deliberate. Nothing is wasted.
The Sound of Silence and the Sound of Chaos
One of the most striking things about the film is its use of sound. Or, more accurately, the lack of it. There are long stretches where you just hear the ambient noise of a house—a ticking clock, the wind, the sound of someone breathing. When the music does kick in, it’s often gospel or blues, grounding the story in a specific cultural heritage.
💡 You might also like: New Movies in Theatre: What Most People Get Wrong About This Month's Picks
Then there’s the chaos. When the family finally boils over, it’s loud, messy, and painful. There’s a scene involving a "misplaced" broom that is both hilarious and deeply uncomfortable. It’s these small, domestic details that Burnett excels at. He knows that the biggest tragedies don't happen in war zones; they happen at the dinner table.
Why You Should Watch It Right Now
We live in an era of "elevated horror" where movies like Hereditary or Get Out dominate the conversation. But To Sleep with Anger was doing "elevated horror" before it was a marketing buzzword. It understands that the things that scare us most are the things we can’t see—tradition, guilt, and the feeling that we don’t really know the people we love.
It’s also just a masterclass in screenwriting. The dialogue is sharp, rhythmic, and feels incredibly authentic. It doesn't sound like "movie talk." It sounds like people talking.
If you're tired of the same three plots being recycled in Hollywood, this is your antidote. It’s a film that respects your intelligence. It doesn't hold your hand. It just invites you in, offers you a seat, and then slowly makes you wish you’d never opened the door.
Actionable Insights for the Curious Viewer
To truly appreciate the depth of this film, it helps to keep a few things in mind while watching. First, pay attention to the objects. Everything—from a feather to a marble to a piece of jewelry—carries weight. Second, look at the body language. Notice how the family members physically shift when Harry enters a room.
- Seek out the Criterion Collection version: The restoration is gorgeous and includes interviews that explain the folklore references you might miss on a first watch.
- Watch for the "Bad Luck" motifs: The film is peppered with traditional Southern omens. See how many you can spot before the characters do.
- Research the L.A. Rebellion: Understanding the movement Burnett was part of adds a whole new layer of appreciation for why this movie looks and feels the way it does.
- Don't expect a traditional horror ending: This isn't a movie where the monster gets blown up. It’s a movie where the family has to decide how to live with the mess that’s been made.
The best way to experience the film is to go in cold. Don't look up trailers. Just find a quiet night, turn off your phone, and let Harry into your living room. Just don't be surprised if you feel the urge to sweep your porch afterward.
The film remains a testament to the power of quiet storytelling. It proves that you don't need a massive budget to create a haunting, indelible world. You just need a kitchen, a suitcase, and a story that’s been waiting a hundred years to be told.