The East Texas village of Possum Trot earned national attention in 2008 when ABC News, followed by “Oprah” and a flood of television programs who recognized a heart warmer when they saw one, sang the merited praises of Rev. W.C. Martin and Donna Martin. The pair serve as the real-life foundation for the faith-infused drama “Sound of Hope: The Story of Possum Trot,” which will be released worldwide on July 4 after a Juneteenth sneak peek.
The minister, now a bishop, and the first lady of Bennett Chapel Missionary Baptist Church in that aptly called town of 600 led an adoption campaign in the mid-1990s that transformed the lives of more than 70 children who seemed to be destined for foster care.
The children were among the most difficult to put for a variety of reasons, most of which spoke to the brutality that individuals who have been wounded in their own lives, people locked in addiction, inflict on the most vulnerable people in their own lives, their children. Who wouldn’t see the potential for an uplifting message movie in that saga?
Letitia Wright (“Black Panther”), an actor and executive producer, utilizes her superhuman abilities to guarantee that the Martins’ tale, their church, and the community continue to inspire others. Her production business, 3.16 Prods., and “Sound of Freedom” makers Angel Studios have created a film that is likely to appeal to non-denominational churchgoers but may lose a chance to preach love as its most convincing throughline.
Nika King plays the vivacious Donna, who is more than just a helpmate. The film opens with King’s honeyed narration, which expresses sentimentality about infancy and innocence. A camera hovers low over the rust-colored dirt roads, green hills, and woodlands in “Deep East Texas 1996.” If the label does not make a claim to the people’s southern ancestry, the opening gospel music does.
“You shine with something you will never have again: innocence,” adds the narrator. This sentence is more nuanced than it seems since the youngsters who play such an important role in this rescue story were never given the opportunity to claim childhood innocence. Donna, the possessor of those blissful memories, will have her own naiveté about childhood questioned.
Demetrius Grosse wears the crisp and colorful vestments of W.C., and he does an excellent job portraying physical friendliness. Donna and W.C. become a loving partnership, but it’s her perspective, her parenting fable. Donna, rather than the reverend, initiates the adoption investigation, which adds a touch of light humor.
Donna is devastated when her mother, a matriarch to many, dies. “My anchor was gone,” she explains. She is temporarily disoriented. Her insight occurs really quickly. A tearful beseeching is interrupted by youngsters playing on the field.
That vision inspires her to straighten her backbone with faith-driven tenacity. King and Grosse add genuine warmth to their characters’ spirit-led marriage. Nonetheless, the wonderful job of adoption may be difficult under considerably more favorable circumstances.
The film depicts the children’s turbulence in their early years via the figure of Susan (Elizabeth Mitchell), a steadfast advocate working for the state’s child protection agency. The violence in the film, both implied and seen, leans toward the harsher end of its PG-13 classification.
There is no spatter, but domestic dread ensues during a 6-year-old girl’s 911 call to report her mother in danger. Mercedes (Aria Pullam) and her brother Tyler (Asher Clay) are inside the home as the tense encounter develops, with the operator doing her best to understand the situation while keeping Mercedes safe.
Donna’s sister, Diann (Jillian Reeves), is the first to adopt a kid. Then Donna and W.C. create a house for Tyler and Mercedes. Other families follow. Donna’s greeting for her sister’s boy is not altogether comfortable: “Our God is a good god,” she adds, making an object of the little man. Is it a show, a brazen expression of sincere appreciation, or both?
Possum Trot was home to 22 families who raised 77 children. And, although we don’t see all of the families, the early adopters in this dramatization realize the stakes. When the Martins start adopting children, they already have two. Princeton (Taj Johnson) has a learning problem as a result of a lack of oxygen, while daughter Ladonna (Kaysi J. Bradley) is struggling with the advent of these new brothers who need her parents’ attention.
Teri (Diaana Babnicova) is the most demanding of the new newcomers. Susan is first concerned about putting the 12-year-old with the Martins. She does not want to set them up for failure. The preteen has behavioral challenges, such as pretending to be a cat, as well as a difficult connection with intimacy as a result of sexual assault. Babnicova delivers a carefully silent portrayal of a girl who is emotionally locked off yet bursting with yearning.
The sequences in which W.C. calls Teri out on her feline imitation may appeal to audiences looking for swift, apparently reasonable interventions: If she’s going to be a cat, she’ll be fed like one. However, although these sequences provide comedy to the scenario, they also obscure Teri’s emotionally disturbed state. To the creators’ credit, the film goes further into her perplexity, repulsion, and destructive choices.
The narrative, which Weigel co-wrote with his wife, Rebekah, is more preaching, but the protagonists’ personal chemistry serves to balance it out. Since the Civil Rights Movement, the Black Church has been more giving and justice-oriented than white evangelicals.
While the church was raising $1 million for capital improvements, the director positioned himself as the wealthy, white pastor of a posh church. He has little time for the type of compassion-driven ministry that the Martins and Bennett congregation participates in. It’s a revealing jab at megachurches and their gospel of affluence, which often overlooks not just those in desperate need, but also those most eager to live the walk.
Is The Sound of Hope a true story?
Angel Studios’ most recent film, Sound of Hope: The Story of Possum Trot tells the incredible real story of Donna and Reverend Martin, who inspired 22 families in Possum Trot, Texas, to adopt 77 foster children.
Is Sound of Hope on Netflix?
“Sound of Hope: The Story of Possum Trot” (2024) is not currently available on Netflix.