Tyler Perry is once again under fire—and honestly, he’s not doing much to dodge the heat. For years, the prolific studio head has caught flak for centering the suffering of Black women in his work. With Straw, his newest dive into misogynoir for Netflix, he doesn't hold back—he practically dares us to watch as he piles on the pain.
The emotional punching bag this time is Janiyah (Taraji P. Henson), a classic Perry archetype: a Black woman pushed to her absolute limit. Her cramped, noisy, and sweltering apartment is just the beginning of her misery. She’s raising a bright but sickly daughter (Gabrielle E. Jackson), staring down eviction, and juggling three exhausting jobs. Her main gig? A thankless cashier position at a rundown grocery store in a food desert. When a customer hurls a soda bottle at her, her unsympathetic boss demands she clean it up—on her knees, no less.
Things spiral fast. When Janiyah rushes out to run a quick errand, she accidentally cuts off an undercover cop, who responds by hurling iced coffee at her windshield and threatening to “legally blow your brains out.” What follows is a nightmare: ticketed for an expired license, car impounded, and stranded in one of Perry’s trademark sudden monsoons.
And yes—it gets worse. Her boss (Glynn Turman) fires her. Her landlord dumps her belongings on the curb. Child Protective Services swoops in to take her daughter after a school principal snitches. Desperate and broken, she returns to beg for her last paycheck—and ends up in the middle of an armed robbery.
There’s a flicker of triumph when Janiyah kills one of the robbers in self-defense. But her boss jumps to conclusions, convinced she was part of the heist because the attacker “knew her”—turns out, he just read her name tag. Still, the boss is on the phone with 911, spinning his own tale. When he threatens her yet again, Janiyah snaps—and shoots him dead.
Next stop: bank standoff. Janiyah, trying to cash that bloodstained final check, ends up the center of a full-blown hostage situation.
The rest of Straw plays like Perry’s take on John Q, swapping out physical injury for social injury, and tossing in a Luigi Mangione-style protest chant. The film’s final act dives into systemic racism in banking and healthcare, all wrapped in Perry’s signature plot twist, which doubles as commentary on the Black mental health crisis. As usual, Perry—who serves as writer, director, and executive producer—tackles important topics with lots of passion but little understanding. Especially when it comes to Black women, who once again bear the brunt of his storytelling.
Yet, many viewers may not even notice the damage. Why? Because Straw actually lands higher on the Tyler Perry curve. The pacing isn't perfect—day-to-night shifts are jarring, and of course, rain falls out of nowhere—but compared to some of his past work (looking at you, Duplicity), Straw stays more focused. It's less camp, less soap opera, and leans more into melodrama that actually hits hard. Credit goes to the cast, who bring sincerity and polish—maybe even got more than one take this time.
Sherri Shepherd, known for comedy, surprises as the level-headed bank manager holding things down during the crisis. Teyana Taylor impresses as the detective negotiator, firmly advocating for Janiyah—though her wig is peak Perry. But as always, it’s Taraji P. Henson who steals the show, delivering a raw, layered performance that moves from despair to rage to heartfelt grace. It's her fourth film with Perry—and sadly, he still treats her like a punching bag.
During the climactic standoff, protesters gather. One sign reads, “Nevertheless, she persisted”—a slogan soaked in feminist defiance. But irony clearly escapes Perry, a billionaire and devout evangelical who remains obsessed with proving that "bad" women deserve all the suffering the world can throw at them.
And just like that, Straw becomes yet another entry in Perry’s long-running saga of punishment. But let’s be real—this won’t be the last Straw.