Film Review: Grassland Is A Stunner

William Bermudez and Sam Friedman’s Grassland is a gripping social justice drama that transports viewers back to 2008, a year marked by the financial crisis and the height of America’s punitive War On Drugs. The film tells the story of how a Latina single mom, Sofia (Mía Maestro) grows cannabis in the basement of her rented apartment to make ends meet for her and her young son, Leo (Ravi Cabot-Conyers). Their lives take a dramatic turn when their new neighbor, John (Jeff Kober), a retired cop, moves into the building and his grandson befriends Leo. Tension escalates as John’s suspicions about Sofia’s activities grow, threatening to unravel her precarious world.

Cabot-Conyers delivers an endearing performance as Leo, whose wide-eyed innocence provides a stark contrast to the harsh realities of his life. Meanwhile, Kober plays John with depth; his character is shaped by his own biases and regrets, making him both antagonist and victim of systemic failure while raising his grandson Tom alone.

Sofia’s story feels real and raw. She’s not portrayed as a criminal, but as a mother doing what she must to care for her child during rough times. Maestro’s performance captures Sofia’s struggles perfectly, showing her strength and vulnerability. Her basement grow operation isn’t glamorous—it’s a lifeline—and yet it puts her at risk in a society that punished people harshly for even small amounts of cannabis.

The film also highlights how unfairly cannabis laws were enforced almost two decades ago. In 2008, Black and Latino communities were disproportionately targeted the most, facing much higher arrest rates than white people for marijuana possession. These disparities are embodied in Brandon (Quincy Isaiah), Sofia’s friend who helps care for Leo but avoids deeper involvement in her operation due to his own criminal record—a chilling reminder of how even minor offenses can derail lives. Grassland is more than a film about cannabis; it’s about survival, injustice and the real painful human cost of systemic racial profiling.

What makes Grassland hit home today is how much has changed—and how far we still must go. Cannabis legalization has spread across the US, with 24 states and Washington, DC, legalizing adult use. Main Street dispensaries sell products legally that once sent people to prison (and still do in some states). Yet, thousands are still locked up for non-violent cannabis-related convictions, some serving long sentences for small amounts of weed. Groups such as Freedom Grow, 40 Tons and the Last Prisoner Project are working to free these individuals, but progress is slow.

Society’s view of cannabis has changed dramatically since 2008. Back then, only about 30 percent of Americans supported legalization; now, according to a 2024 Pew research poll, 88 percent of US adults say cannabis should be legal for medical or adult use. It’s a booming industry, with the US market size estimated at $38.50 billion in 2024. Yet despite this cultural change, systemic barriers persist, particularly for those whose lives were upended by prohibition-era policies. Grassland reminds us that justice means more than changing laws. It means clearing records, freeing prisoners and helping those hurt by the War On Drugs rebuild their lives.

Grassland never loses focus on its principal message: Cannabis prohibition ruined lives. Sofia’s story represents that of countless others who were punished for doing things that are now legal—even profitable. By revisiting the dark days of 2008 through Sofia’s eyes, the film challenges us to not only reflect on how far we’ve come, but also to acknowledge how much further we must go to right the wrongs of the past.

With its thoughtful storytelling and nuanced performances, Grassland serves as both a time capsule of a broken system and a call to action for justice in the present day. For anyone interested in cannabis advocacy or social justice, this film is a must. It challenges us to think about what justice means, and how it remains elusive for so, so many.