Straw Review: Tyler Perry’s Painful Ode to Black Women’s Struggle
Tyler Perry’s Netflix hostage thriller punishes Black women once again
Tyler Perry is not beating the allegations. For decades, the prolific filmmaker and studio executive has faced sustained criticism for his repeated portrayal of Black women through the lens of trauma, often veiled in morality tales. In Straw, his latest Netflix release, he doubles down on that trope with a punishing narrative dressed as a thriller.
The film centres on Janiyah (Taraji P. Henson), a single mother who seems fated for relentless suffering. Her world is collapsing from every side: she lives in a rundown apartment, juggles three underpaid jobs, and is raising a daughter with ongoing medical issues. Early in the film, a customer hurls a drink at her feet during her shift at a grocery store. Her boss orders her to clean it up instead of defending her. Minutes later, an off-duty officer throws an iced coffee at her car during a traffic stop and threatens to “find a legal way to blow your brains out.”
From there, the spiral accelerates. Her license is expired, her car is impounded, she walks home in a surprise rainstorm, loses her job, gets evicted, and her child is taken by child protective services. These scenes don’t build tension—they stack misery, one degrading moment after another, forming what feels more like a cultural punishment ritual than a narrative arc.
In a desperate bid for stability, Janiyah returns to the grocery store to beg for her final paycheck. During her confrontation with her manager, a group of armed robbers burst in. In the scuffle, Janiyah kills one in self-defense. But her manager suspects her involvement in the heist, claiming the robber “knew her.” (He read her name tag.) Janiyah panics, shoots her boss, and flees, setting off a hostage standoff at a local bank as she tries to cash the cursed paycheck.
If the first half of Straw is economic realism pushed to absurdity, the second half aims for social commentary. There are pointed digs at healthcare racism, banking discrimination, and the bureaucracy that crushes working-class women. But Perry, once again assuming writing, directing, and producing duties, treats these themes with a heavy hand. His films raise valid issues, but too often in ways that sensationalize rather than deepen understanding.
Despite this, Straw stands taller than many entries in Tyler Perry’s catalogue. It’s less meandering than A Fall From Grace, less tonally chaotic than Acrimony, and more grounded than Temptation. The 105-minute runtime is tight. The performances, particularly from Henson, carry real emotional heft. Henson gives a bruising, layered portrayal of a woman pushed to the edge, moving from exhaustion to outrage to resolve without losing credibility.
Tyler Perry’s Straw on Netflix: Thrilling or Trauma Porn?
Sherri Shepherd turns in a strong performance as the bank manager who navigates the hostage situation with calm and empathy. Teyana Taylor also surprises as a hostage negotiator with grit and depth, though her character’s styling is distractingly off-brand. Still, these performances suggest that Perry may have finally allowed for more than one take per scene.
The visual style remains Perry-standard: flat lighting, erratic weather changes, and uninspired transitions. But what the film lacks in polish, it compensates for with a rare commitment to thematic consistency—even if the themes themselves are mishandled.
At the centre of Straw is Perry’s continued exploration of the suffering Black woman—a figure he both reveres and repeatedly punishes. That dynamic remains troubling. The sign held up by a protester outside the bank reads, “Nevertheless she persisted,” a slogan meant to empower but rendered hollow when placed in Perry’s world, where persistence is rarely rewarded and suffering is treated as moral currency.
This film, though better structured than his past works, ultimately reinforces the same old critique: Perry builds intricate scenarios to strip down his female leads, only to offer redemption through violence or repentance. He may claim to spotlight their strength, but what he showcases, again and again, is their pain.
Straw is now streaming on Netflix.
