“It isn’t easy to accept that suffering can also be beautiful… it’s difficult. It’s something you can only understand if you dig deeply into yourself.”
― Rainer Werner Fassbinder
An oft-quoted Chinese philosopher once proffered “The flame that burns twice as bright burns half as long”. He could have been prophesying the short yet productive life of Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Over a 15-year period ending with his death in 1982 at age 37, the German playwright, director, screenwriter, actor, producer, editor, cameraman, composer, designer, etc. churned out 40+ feature films, a couple dozen stage plays , two TV mini-series, and various video productions, radio plays and shorts.
As illustrated in a new biopic, he also snorted lots of coke, cruised a lot of rough trade, threw a lot of tantrums, and generally treated friends, lovers, and actors (frequently all one and the same) like shit. It could be argued he didn’t suffer for his art, so much as make those around him suffer for it. He was “the bad boy” of New German Cinema.
Hence the title of Oskar Roehler’s fitfully inspired Enfant Terrible, which is propelled by Oliver Masucci’s scenery-chewing turn as Fassbinder (a performance that vacillates between Bruno Ganz as Hitler in Downfall and John Belushi as Bluto in Animal House).
After several years of rushed, provocative and audience-alienating theater productions, Fassbinder declares to his long-suffering collaborator Kurt Raab (Hary Prinz) “Wherever you go is material that is about how people see their dreams and how their dreams get destroyed. The theater can’t do it. Only cinema can do it.” This launches a torrent of rushed, provocative and audience-alienating films.
Eventually critics and audiences warm to Fassbinder’s work, starting with his internationally acclaimed 1974 drama Ali: Fear Eats the Soul. The narrative thread about Fassbinder’s relationship with leading man El Hedi ben Salem (Erdal Yildiz) provides Enfant Terrible with an emotional core it otherwise lacks (as nihilism runs through much of Fassbinder’s work, perhaps it is intended to reflect the artist himself).
Roehler cannily replicates the aesthetic of Fassbinder’s films; bold colors, the cinematography (by Carl-Friedrich Koschnick), production design (done by Roehler himself), self-consciously theatrical sets, and the use of doorways and windows to create multiple frames within the camera frame indicates that he did his homework.
Using metatheatre, Roehler and co-writer Klaus Richter draw parallels between snippets of Fassbinder cruelly manipulating actors on set and vignettes depicting his tortured personal life, but it becomes repetitive. It’s a shame they didn’t take a deeper dive into Fassbinder’s creative vision; what you’re left with is a highlight reel of his filmography sandwiched between yet another sad study in willful self-destruction.
(“Enfant Terrible” is now playing in select physical and virtual cinemas)
It’s been a while (like never) since I’ve seen a kickass Kickstarter-funded martial arts movie that was filmed in my back yard. Full disclosure: Writer-director Quoc Bao Tran’s The Paper Tigers wasn’t literally filmed in my back yard…but it was shot here in Seattle.
Tran subtly subverts Hollywood tropes by re-imagining The Karate Kid through the sensibilities of Chan is Missing in this tale of three friends, all former teenage kung fu champions now riddled with the baggage and creeping infirmities of middle age.
The one-time star of the trio is Danny (Alain Uy) a divorced suburban dad with a drudge office job that keeps him tethered to his cell phone, even when he is trying to enjoy quality time with his young son on weekends (his ex is not pleased). Wisecracking Hing (Ron Yuan) was specially trained in the arts of ancient Chinese healing but is now barely ambulatory due to an accident and subsisting on disability checks. Jim (Mykel Shannon Jenkins) is the most physically fit of the lot, but still suffers the odd pull, creak, or tweak.
The men have gone their separate ways in their adult lives. Danny and Hing have kept in touch, but Danny and Jim have not been on speaking terms since an incident that took place on the eve of a martial arts tournament the then-teenage trio was attending in Japan.
However, when they learn that the recent death of their beloved “sifu” (kung fu teacher) may have involved foul play, the trio decide to put aside differences, get the band back together and launch their own investigation to find the culprit and avenge (if applicable).
While that setup may sound cliché…well, it is. But what separates Tran’s film from most martial arts fare is its character development, gentle social commentary, smart (and frequently hilarious) dialog, and surprising warmth. Don’t despair, action fans…there are still plenty of fight scenes, all expertly choreographed and genuinely exciting to watch.
The three leads are appealing and have great chemistry. Even the “bad guys” of the piece are three-dimensional; particularly Danny’s long-time nemesis (played with aplomb by Matt Page (creator of the martial arts comedy web series “Enter The Dojo”). Frankly, I did not expect to enjoy The Paper Tigers so much, but I, erm…really got a kick out of it!
“The Paper Tigers” is now playing on various digital platforms.
There are “low budget” movies, and there are “no budget” movies. Not that it makes a difference in the quality of what ends up on screen; some of my all-time favorite films are low-budget or no-budget wonders. Sadly, In Action will not be joining them this evening.
Billed as an “action film” with tongue-in-cheek, In Action is predicated on a one-joke premise that its budget is so low (“How low is it, Johnny?”) that nearly all its “action” is implied, rather than shown…most of what you are watching onscreen is inaction (get it?).
What you are mostly seeing onscreen are the occasionally gore-spattered mugs of co-writer-director-stars Sean Kenealy and Eric Silvera, who play (wait for it) Sean and Eric, two aspiring filmmakers who are brainstorming on their screenplay for an action movie. When government spooks hack into their laptops and mistake their story treatment for a terrorist plot, Sean and Eric find themselves embroiled in a real-life action film (of sorts).
It’s a clever concept, with spurts of comic inspiration using animation, hand-drawn sketches and toys, but Kenealy and Silvera’s histrionic acting goes to “11” and sustains that level for the entire film (which feels much longer than its actual 79-minute run time). The expletive-laden dialog leans heavily on insult humor of the Kevin Smith variety, but somehow lacks the panache (the film is reminiscent of Clerks, except without the laughs).
To their credit, Kenealy and Silvera do fully commit to…whatever this is. There’s always the possibility that they are utilizing some post-ironic meta-SXSW hipster shtick that I’m too out-of-touch to “get” (e.g., I never “got” Mr. Show, despite co-workers half my age insisting that I’d laugh my ass off. I watched several episodes …completely stone-faced).
Yeah, maybe I’m gettin’ too old for this shit…
“In Action” will be available on various digital platformsMay 11.
Officially, yesterday (April 30th) was International Jazz Day for 2021. But as far as I’m concerned, every day should be Jazz Day...and not just for the music. Here’s why:
International Jazz Day brings together communities, schools, artists, historians, academics, and jazz enthusiasts all over the world to celebrate and learn about jazz and its roots, future and impact; raise awareness of the need for intercultural dialogue and mutual understanding; and reinforce international cooperation and communication. Each year on April 30, this international art form is recognized for promoting peace, dialogue among cultures, diversity, and respect for human rights and human dignity; eradicating discrimination; promoting freedom of expression; fostering gender equality; and reinforcing the role of youth in enacting social change.
Sounds like a damn fine plan to me. In honor of Jazz Day, here are 10 of my favorite cuts:
Miles Davis – “Pharaoh’s Dance” – Miles Davis is considered a “jazz” artist, but first and foremost he was an artist; one who defied categorization throughout his career. The influence of his 1970 2-LP set Bitches Brew on what came to be called “fusion” cannot be overstated. But be warned: this is not an album you put on as background; it is challenging music that demands your full attention (depending on your mood that day, it will sound either bold and exhilarating, or discordant and unnerving). Miles always had heavyweight players on board, but the Bitches Brew roster is legend: including future members of Weather Report (Wayne Shorter, Joe Zawinul), Return to Forever (Chick Corea, Lenny White) and The Mahavishnu Orchestra (John McLaughlin, Billy Cobham) – who are all now acknowledged as key fusion pioneers.
Pat Metheny & Anna Maria Jopek- “So It May Secretly Begin” – This has always been my favorite Metheny instrumental; but it got even better when I recently stumbled onto this breathtaking live version with added vocals, courtesy of the angel-voiced Jopek.
Gil Scott-Heron- “Pieces of a Man” – Gil’s heartbreaking vocal, Brian Jackson’s transcendent piano, the great Ron Carter’s sublime stand-up bass work, and the pure poetry of the lyrics…it’s all so “right”.
Digable Planets- “Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat)”– I caught these guys at a Seattle club in 1993 and became a fan; a unique mashup of hip-hop with traditional jazz instrumentation.
The Style Council- “The Whole Point of No Return” – Spare, beautiful, jazzy, and topped off with his most trenchant lyrics, I think this is Paul Weller’s greatest song.
Barry Miles- “Hijack” – Memorable track from the keyboardist’s self-titled 1970 LP.
Milton Nascimento- “Nothing Will Be As It Was”– Hailing from Brazil, eclectic signer-songwriter Milton Nascimento is a world beat superstar who seamlessly blends jazz, samba, pop and rock into his own distinctive sound. This cut is taken from his 1976 album Milton, which features Wayne Shorter and Herbie Hancock sitting in.
Brian Auger & the Oblivion Express– “Whenever You’re Ready” – It’s hard to believe that the ace keyboardist and “godfather of acid jazz” is still gigging after 50+ years. In 1991, I had the honor of opening for Auger and Eric Burdon at a concert in Fairbanks, Alaska (I was doing stand-up). This cut is taken from the excellent 1973 Oblivion Express album Closer To It.
The Mahavishnu Orchestra- “Open Country Joy”— What I like the most about jazz is that it’s the most amenable of musical genres. Put it next to anything else: rock, soul, hip-hop, whatever…and then just watch how quickly it absorbs, adopts, and then shapeshifts it into something else altogether. John McLaughlin, Billy Cobham, Jan Hammer, Rick Laird and Jerry Goodman understood this. Here’s a perfect example. As the title implies, it begins as a nice country stroll, then…it blows your fucking mind. From the whisper to the thunder.
George Duke & Feel – “Love”— The late keyboardist extraordinaire George Duke was a versatile player; in addition to the 40+ albums in his catalog, he was equally at home doing sessions with the likes of Miles Davis, Michael Jackson, Third World, and (most famously) he played with Frank Zappa for many years. This cut is from Duke’s 1974 album, Feel. Zappa (credited under the pseudonym “Obdwel’l X”) contributes the lead guitar.
Bonus track!
Ryuichi Sakamoto & Kaori Muraji – “Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence” – While electronica/experimental musician Ryuichi Sakamoto is not considered a jazz artist per se, I hear jazz leanings in some of his compositions. This instrumental, which he composed as the main theme for Nagisa Oshima’s eponymous 1983 WW2 drama, is one example. It’s an achingly beautiful song to begin with, but this live rendition with Sakamoto accompanying Kaori Muraji on guitar is sublime.
The systematic killing and maiming of unarmed African Americans by police amount to crimes against humanity that should be investigated and prosecuted under international law, an inquiry into US police brutality by leading human rights lawyers from around the globe has found.
A week after the former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin was convicted of murder in George Floyd’s death, the unabated epidemic of police killings of Black men and women in the US has now attracted scorching international attention.
In a devastating report running to 188 pages, human rights experts from 11 countries hold the US accountable for what they say is a long history of violations of international law that rise in some cases to the level of crimes against humanity.
They point to what they call “police murders” as well as “severe deprivation of physical liberty, torture, persecution and other inhuman acts” as systematic attacks on the Black community that meet the definition of such crimes.
They also call on the prosecutor of the international criminal court (ICC) in The Hague to open an immediate investigation with a view to prosecutions.
“This finding of crimes against humanity was not given lightly, we included it with a very clear mind,” Hina Jilani, one of the 12 commissioners who led the inquiry, told the Guardian. “We examined all the facts and concluded that that there are situations in the US that beg the urgent scrutiny of the ICC.”
Outrage is growing in Philadelphia after explosive revelations that the University of Pennsylvania and Princeton University have been in possession of remains thought to belong to two children who were among 11 people killed in the 1985 police bombing of the Philadelphia home of the radical, Black liberation and anti-police-brutality group MOVE. We show an excerpt of a training video — now removed from the internet — by an anthropologist at the University of Pennsylvania and Princeton University who has been using the bones of at least one of the young bombing victims for the past 36 years — without the knowledge or consent of the families — and get response from a MOVE family member. “It makes you wonder: What else do they have?” says Mike Africa Jr., a second-generation MOVE member who grew up with the children whose remains have now been located. “What else are they covering up? What else are they lying about?”
Good God.
This development is particularly egregious if you know the details of the 1985 MOVE incident. And anyone from Tucker Carlson to your drunk uncle at Thanksgiving who tries to convince you that the increasing spotlight on these incidents is some kind of phony human rights crisis being ginned up by Lefties and/or the “liberal mainstream media” has never cracked open a history book. And now it seems that the whole world is not only watching, but judging. As any person with a conscience and a whit of humanity should.
For just a tiny fraction of that history, here’s my original 2013 review of the excellent “found footage” documentary that recounts the 1985 MOVE incident, Let the Fire Burn (currently streaming on iTunes, Apple TV, and Amazon Prime Video).
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on December 7, 2013)
Attack the block: Let the Fire Burn (***1/2)
While obscured in public memory by the (relatively) more “recent” 1993 Branch Davidian siege in Waco, the eerily similar demise of the Philadelphia-based MOVE organization 8 years earlier was no less tragic on a human level, nor any less disconcerting in its ominous sociopolitical implications.
In an enlightening new documentary called Let the Fire Burn, director Jason Osder has parsed a trove of archival “live-at-the-scene” TV reports, deposition videos, law enforcement surveillance footage, and other sundry “found” footage (much of it previously unseen by the general public) and created a tight narrative that plays like an edge-of-your-seat political thriller.
Depending upon whom you might ask, MOVE was an “organization”, a “religious cult”, a “radical group”, or all of the above. The biggest question in my mind (and one the film doesn’t necessarily delve into) is whether it was another example of psychotic entelechy. So what is “psychotic entelechy”, exactly? Well, according to Stan A. Lindsay, the author of Psychotic Entelechy: The Dangers of Spiritual Gifts Theology, it would be
…the tendency of some individuals to be so desirous of fulfilling or bringing to perfection the implications of their terminologies that they engage in very hazardous or damaging actions.
In the context of Lindsay’s book, he is expanding on some of the ideas laid down by literary theorist Kenneth Burke and applying them to possibly explain the self-destructive traits shared by the charismatic leaders of modern-day cults like The People’s Temple, Order of the Solar Tradition, Heaven’s Gate, and The Branch Davidians. He ponders whether all the tragic deaths that resulted should be labeled as “suicides, murders, or accidents”.
Whether MOVE belongs on that list is perhaps debatable, but in Osder’s film, you do get the sense that leader John Africa (an adapted surname that all followers used) was a charismatic person. He founded the group in 1972, based on an odd hodgepodge of tenets borrowed from Rastafarianism, Black Nationalism and green politics; with a Luddite view of technology (think ELF meets the Panthers…by way of the Amish). Toss in some vaguely egalitarian philosophies about communal living, and I think you’re there.
The group, which shared a town house, largely kept itself to itself (at least at first) but started to draw the attention of Philadelphia law enforcement when a number of their neighbors began expressing concern to the authorities about sanitation issues (the group built compost piles around their building using refuse and human excrement) and the distressing appearance of possible malnutrition among the children of the commune (some of the footage in the film would seem to bear out the latter claim).
The city engaged in a year-long bureaucratic standoff with MOVE over their refusal to vacate, culminating in an attempted forced removal turned-gun battle with police in 1978 that left one officer dead. Nine MOVE members were convicted of 3rd-degree murder and jailed.
The remaining members of MOVE relocated their HQ, but it didn’t take long to wear out their welcome with the new neighbors (John Africa’s strange, rambling political harangues, delivered via loudspeakers mounted outside the MOVE house certainly didn’t help). Africa and his followers began to develop a siege mentality, shuttering up all the windows and constructing a makeshift pillbox style bunker on the roof. Naturally, these actions only served to ratchet up the tension and goad local law enforcement.
On May 13, 1985 it all came to a head when a heavily armed contingent of cops moved in, ostensibly to arrest MOVE members on a number of indictments. Anyone who remembers the shocking news footage knows that the day did not end well. Gunfire was exchanged after tear gas and high-pressure water hoses failed to end the standoff, so authorities decided to take a little shortcut and drop a satchel of C-4 onto the roof of the building. 11 MOVE members (including 5 children) died in the resulting inferno, which consumed 61 homes.
Putting aside any debate or speculation for a moment over whether or not John Africa and his disciples were deranged criminals, or whether or not the group’s actions were self-consciously provocative or politically convoluted, one simple fact remains and bears repeating: “Someone” decided that it was a perfectly acceptable action plan, in the middle of a dense residential neighborhood (located in the City of Brotherly Love, no less) to drop a bomb on a building with children inside it.
Even more appalling is the callous indifference and casual racism displayed by some of the officials and police who are seen in the film testifying before the Mayor’s investigative commission (the sole ray of light, one compassionate officer who braved crossfire to help a young boy escape the burning building, was chastised by fellow officers afterward as a “n****r lover” for his trouble).
Let the Fire Burn is not only an essential document of an American tragedy, but a cautionary tale and vital reminder of how far we still have go in purging the vestiges of institutional racism in this country (1985 was not that long ago).
In a strange bit of Kismet, I saw this film the day before Nelson Mandela died, which has naturally prompted a steady stream of retrospectives about Apartheid on the nightly news. Did you know that in 1985, there was a raging debate over whether we should impose sanctions on South Africa? (*sigh*) Sometimes you can’t see the forest for the trees.
The Seattle International Film Festival has curated its first-ever virtual program for 2021, which is running now through this Sunday, April 18th (via the SIFF Channel, available on Roku, Fire TV, Android TV and Apple TV—or online at watch.siff.net). The slate features a grand total of 219 films, including 93 feature length films from 69 countries…plus 126 short films. I have a fresh batch of reviews to share, so let’s dive in!
Beans ***½ (Canada) – Writer-director Tracey Deer’s impressive debut (co-written with Meredith Vuchnich) is a bittersweet coming-of-age story about a 12 year-old Mohawk girl nicknamed “Beans” (Kiawentiio). Beans’ preteen turmoil and angst is juxtaposed with a retelling of the 1990 “Oka crisis” standoff in Quebec, which involved a land dispute between Mohawk protesters and Canadian law enforcement. Beans, her little sister, father and pregnant mother find themselves in the thick of the (at times life-threatening) racist backlash from the local Quebecois settler community. Deer’s interweaving of documentary realism (via archival news footage of the crisis) with wonderful, naturalistic performances from her cast makes for an absorbing social drama.
The Bears’ Famous Invasion *** (France) – Granted, the bruin incursion recounted in this charming fairy-tale is likely more “famous” in Italy than elsewhere (Lorenzo Mattotti’s animated film is adapted from a popular Italian children’s book that I have never heard of called La famosa invasione degli orsi in Sicilia), but the story has universal appeal. A wandering minstrel and his young daughter happen onto a gargantuan bear while seeking shelter in a cave. Lucky for them, the hungry bear is up for swapping tales (as opposed to gobbling down an obvious easy dinner). The two tales told intersect in clever fashion. An imaginative and splendidly animated family-friendly entertainment.
Deadly Cuts *** (Ireland) – Strictly Ballroom meets Eating Raoul in this twisted black comedy from writer-director Rachel Carey. A quartet of hairdressers living in a crime-ridden Dublin neighborhood are working overtime to brainstorm new “cuts” that are innovative and exciting enough to wow the judges at the imminent “Ahh Hair!” championship. The women suffer a setback when their salon is vandalized by a gang who run a neighborhood protection racket. When the gang’s oafish leader shows up at the salon demanding payment, the confrontation escalates and the women are forced to defend themselves-with extreme prejudice. Let’s just say… it’s on to the championship, girls! The film becomes increasingly more campy and over-the-top as it progresses, but it’s (darkly) funny throughout.
The Salt in Our Waters ***½ (Bangladesh) – Writer-director Rezwan Shahriar Sumit’s sumptuously photographed variation on the venerable “city mouse-country mouse” scenario concerns a metropolitan sculptor (Titas Zia) who travels to a remote fishing village in the Bangladeshi Delta for a sabbatical. Inspired by the beauty of the coast (as well as one of the young women), he begins work on new pieces. Some villagers are puzzled by his sculptures (which they view as “idols” with no practical purpose) but are hospitable to their guest.
However, when the fishermen find their nets are suddenly coming up short (due to rising tides), the recently arrived outsider becomes a convenient straw man for the “Chairman”, the local head cleric and village leader. A compelling, beautifully acted drama that makes salient observations on tradition vs. modernity and science vs. fundamentalism.
The Spy **½ (Norway, Belgium, Sweden) –Swedish director Jens Jonsson’s WW2 drama is based on a “rumored” story regarding famous Norwegian-Swedish actress Sonja Wigert. After Sonja (Ingrid Bolsø Berdal) shuns the advances of German occupied Norway’s reichskommissar Josef Terboven (Alexander Scheer), he arranges to have her father arrested by the SS (as spurned Nazis do). Swedish intelligence offers to help free her father if Sonja agrees to get chummy with Terboven so she can gather intel (they are eager to find out if/when the Germans plan on invading Sweden).
The film drags in the first half, which is essentially a series of fetes and elegant dinners where Sonja flirts and mingles with high-ranking Nazis, but eventually delivers on its “spy thriller” billing with added layers of subterfuge and intrigue. While not destined to be mentioned in the same breath as Mephisto or The Last Metro, The Spy is a stylish (if workmanlike) genre entry. The screenplay was written by Harald Rosenløw-Eeg and Jan Trygve Røyneland.
Topside*** (USA) – Be advised: This stark, intense and harrowing drama about homelessness and heroin addiction is not for the squeamish (count me among the squeamish). Co-writers and directors Logan George and Celine Held’s film begins literally in the dark underbelly of New York City…and figuratively works its way down from there. A homeless single mother (Held) and her 5-year old daughter (Zhaila Farmer) survive hand-to-mouth living in an abandoned subway tunnel. When city officials order a sweep of the subterranean community, mother and daughter are forced “topside” onto the mean streets. Not a “feel good” film, but the most gripping and heartbreaking junkie drama I’ve seen since Jerry Schatzberg’s 1971 character study The Panic in Needle Park.
Wisdom Tooth ** (China) – Writer-director Liang Ming’s drama is an ambitious feature debut–perhaps overly so. Set in northeast China, the film begins as a character study about a brother and sister struggling to make ends meet in a fishing town. The young woman (Xingchen Lyu) is an undocumented worker and on the verge of losing her hotel maid job. Her half-brother (Xiaoliang Wu) has just lost his fishing job.
When the siblings befriend the free-spirited daughter of a prosperous mob boss, the sister oddly begins to act like a jilted (lover?) once her brother and their new friend start sleeping together…but there is no explanation as to why. There is a suggestion that the two women have the hots for each other, but that thread goes nowhere fast. About 40 minutes in there is a hint that you’re now watching a crime thriller, but no thrills ensue. Ultimately the film is a wash.
The Seattle International Film Festival has curated its first-ever virtual program for 2021, which is running now through April 18th (via the SIFF Channel, available on Roku, Fire TV, Android TV and Apple TV—or online at watch.siff.net). The slate features a grand total of 219 films, including 93 feature length films from 69 countries…plus 126 short films. I will be bringing you Festival highlights over the next couple weeks. Let’s dive in!
All Sorts **½ (USA) – Writer-director J. Rick Castañeda’s surreal office comedy centers on a 20-something named Diego (Eli Vargas) who lives in his car. He goes to a job interview and is surprised to get hired on the spot by an eccentric supervisor named Vasquez (Luis Deveze) for a data-entry position…despite only being able to type 50-odd WPM. This is the first of many surprises at Data Mart, a company that apparently exists in an alternate universe. Castañeda’s stylized approach suggests he is of the quirky Spike Jonze-Michel Gondry-Wes Anderson school. I have no problem with “quirky” per se, but it is no substitute for narrative. Vargas and Greena Park (who plays a co-worker Diego falls in love with) are charming together, but an overdose of “quirk” drags the film down.
All Those Small Things *** (USA) – The problems of the rich and famous…we should all be so lucky? 8½ meets Green Acres inthis portrait of an aging British game show host (James Faulkner) who descends into an existential malaise after hearing of the death of a longtime friend. Moping through his fan mail, he reads a touching letter that inspires him to travel to America to pay his admirer a surprise visit (and of course, to give himself some time to mull over a life tragically misspent). He ends up in a one-horse burg in Eastern Washington…where unexpected bonds are forged, and Life Lessons are Learned. Despite teetering on maudlin at times and containing more false endings than The Return ofthe King, writer-director Andrew Hyatt’s dramedy made me laugh and made me cry.
Caterpillars *** (Central African Republic) – This beautifully photographed documentary focuses on two Aka Pygmies who have set up a makeshift outdoor school for the children of their village as a community service. Bereft of funds for proper school supplies, the men take a hiatus from teaching to travel deep into the surrounding forest to harvest caterpillars, which they can easily turn into a marketable delicacy known as makongo. Arduous as the harvesting is, that’s the easy part…now they have to hoof it to the big city, where they haggle with shady market vendors and deal with the racial discrimination Pygmies unfortunately face from other Central Africans. Director Elvis Sabin Ngaïbino uses a strictly observational approach, resulting in an immersive and fascinating study of a unique aboriginal culture as they struggle with modernization.
The Earth is Blue as an Orange *** (Ukraine) – “Life during wartime” is not all about soldiers, generals, and politicians. The most overlooked participants are those who did not ask to be in the thick of it…the civilians caught in the crossfire. They are not spending time obsessing over borders, strategy, or ideology. They are just trying to keep their heads down and go about with their daily lives. Such is the plight of the Ukrainian family in this one-of-kind documentary. Filmed near Donbass, Ukraine over a 2½-year period during and after the 2014 war in the region, it chronicles the daily life of a single mother and her four children. The mother is a writer, and one of her daughters is an aspiring film maker. There are times when the conflict intrudes (like when artillery shells explode much too close for comfort), but director Iryna Tsilyk avoids sensationalism and focuses instead on showing us the humanity of her subjects.
Final Exam *** (China) – This character study is about a selfless part-time teacher tenuously close to a nervous breakdown. Between his school duties, taking care of his elderly mother and constantly having to bail his ne’er do-well brother out of trouble, he has his hands full. Deliberately paced; impatient viewers should be advised this one is a slow boiler , but the denouement packs quite an emotional wallop for those who don’t mind the wait. Director Chen-ti Kuo co-wrote her screenplay with Joanna Wang.
Heist of the Century **** (Argentina) – A stoner heist comedy based on a true story? Stranger things have happened. In 2006, a team of robbers hit the Banco Rio in Acassuso, took hostages, stole $8 million in valuables and cash and escaped in a boat despite being surrounded by 200 police. They ordered pizza and soda for the hostages, sang happy birthday to one of them, and left behind toy guns and a note saying they stole “money, not love.” If that isn’t a film begging to be made, I don’t know what is. Director Ariel Winograd and screenwriters Alex Zito and Fernando Araujo have fashioned one of the most entertaining genre entries Elmore Leonard never wrote. My festival favorite so far.
Ladies of Steel *** (Finland) – Finnish humor is not for everybody, as it leans toward deadpan (think Jim Jarmusch, who cites Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki as an influence). This road movie/dramedy from director Pamela Tola (co-written with Aleksi Bardy) is a kind of a geriatric take on Thelma and Louise. Fearing that she has killed her husband after beaning him with a frying pan during an argument, a 70-ish woman named Inkeri (Leena Uotila) panics and hits the road with her two older sisters in tow. Misadventures ensue…including sexual, which is not something you see onscreen very often with actors of “a certain age”. Truth be told…there is something actually quite wonderful and liberating about it.
Strawberry Mansion **½ (USA) – To quote a former president, “That was some weird shit.” This sci-fi tale depicts a dystopian near-future where the government has figured a way to collect taxes on the unconscious (sounds like a Q-anon theory). A hangdog tax man (Kentucker Audely, who co-wrote with director Albert Birney) who specializes in auditing people’s dreams calls on an aging, free-spirited artist (Penny Fuller) to paw through her dusty collection of dream archives, which are housed on VHS tapes. As the glum bureaucrat watches her dreams, he finds that he can interact with her younger self, with whom he begins to fall in love (Brainstorm meets Harold andMaude). There’s also a subplot about a virus that invades your dreams with product placements (similar to the “blipverts” in the Max Headroom series). The movie has a few inspired scenes but feels too derivative of films like The Lathe of Heaven, Paprika, and Dreamscape.
Too Late ***½ (USA) – I am not a big fan of gore movies, but despite my initial trepidation I ended up enjoying D.W. Thomas’ horror comedy. The Los Angeles stand-up scene provides the backdrop for this tale about a long-suffering booker and P.A. (Alyssa Limperis) who works for a demanding variety show host (Ron Lynch) who owns his own comedy club. He’s a real monster. No, seriously (I’ll leave it at that). Tom Becker (who is the director’s husband) wrote the frequently hilarious screenplay, which doubles as a clever metaphor for the dog-eat-dog world of stand up. Speaking as a former stand-up, they had me at “club owner who is a real monster”.
Waikiki **** (USA) – Trouble in paradise. This intense, shattering psychological drama is about a young native Hawaiian woman (Danielle Zalopany, in an extraordinary performance) who is at a crossroads in her life. She suffers PTSD from an abusive relationship. She is temporarily homeless and living in her van. She juggles several part-time jobs, including bartending and teaching hula. One night, upset and distracted following an altercation with her ex, she hits a homeless man with her van. From this point the film makes a tonal shift that demands your total attention. A tour-de-force for filmmaker Christopher Kahunahana, who served as writer, producer, director, and editor.
Here’s a lament I’ve been hearing more often than not: “I can’t find anything new and exciting to watch on “_____” (insert the digital streaming platform that you have developed a deep and abiding love/hate relationship with during the pandemic).
Buck up, little camper…there are so many new and exciting things you can watch over the next several weeks (in the comfort of your living room) it will make your head spin.
At the risk of having my critic’s license revoked, I confess in front of God and all 6 of my readers that I have only seen 3 of this year’s 8 Best Picture nominees. Then again, the Academy and I rarely see eye-to-eye. Apparently, I’m not alone these days:
When this year’s Oscars best picture envelope is opened, viewers might not be on the edge of their seat to see if “Nomadland,” “Mank” or “Promising Young Woman” — or another contender — is named. Instead, they might be scratching their heads. Although the pandemic has left households paying for more streaming services than ever, the majority of the best picture nominees at the Oscars are unknown to entertainment consumers.
Over the years, this has been a recurring problem for the Oscars, which is one reason why, in 2010, the Academy expanded the best picture race to up to 10 nominees to allow for more populist titles to enter the mix. But this year’s lack of awareness comes with a perplexing twist. Since the pandemic has shut down most movie theaters, the majority of the best picture Oscar contenders — including “Sound of Metal,” “The Trial of the Chicago 7” and “Minari” — are currently available to rent or stream on Netflix, Amazon and other platforms. […]
Beyond the lack of consumer awareness, there are other hurdles for the Oscar telecast this year, including a mandate that nominees must show up in person, causing concern among executives, publicists and talent who are still cautious about the pandemic. Despite the challenges, this year’s nominees are the most diverse class ever, with 70 women receiving a total of 76 nominations, and nine of the 20 acting nominations going to people of color.
(via Variety)
Here’s hoping the industry sorts itself out. I am happy to report that I have seen the Oscar nominees for Best Short Film-Animation and Best Short Film-Live Action. And as of this weekend, you can catch them via Shorts TV’s presentation of the Live Action, Animation and Documentary Oscar Nominated Short Film Category nominees (in theaters and virtual). From their press release:
The program will be available in over 200 screens across 50+ theatrical markets including New York and Los Angeles and due to theaters being directly affected by the COVID-19 pandemic, through virtual cinematic releases with a portion of proceeds benefiting the local theaters that are unable to be open during the release. This is the only opportunity for audiences to watch the short film nominees in theaters before the Academy Awards ceremony on Sunday, April 25, 2021.
I would advise parents that the animated program is a mixed bag that includes several selections that are not suitable for young children. I have not had time to preview the documentaries, but here are my reviews of this year’s Live Action nominees:
Feeling Through **** (USA, 19 mins) – This beautifully acted “after hours” piece concerns a troubled NYC teenager (Steven Prescod) looking for a place to sleep after staying out late partying with his buds. He encounters a deaf-blind man (Robert Tarango) standing on a deserted street holding up a sign asking for help. Hesitant at first, the teen agrees to help the man get to a bus stop. As the evening progresses the pair develop an unexpectedly deep bond. A moving treatise on empathy and compassion. Written and directed by Doug Roland.
The Letter Room **½ (USA, 33 mins) – Oscar Isaac (Inside Llewyn Davis, Ex Machina) stars in this character study about a lonely prison guard who is transferred to the “communications” division of the facility, where he screens inmate mail. Despite being told by his supervisor to skim for red flags and not dwell on personal details, the guard becomes fixated on one woman’s deeply passionate letters to her boyfriend who sits on Death Row yet never writes in return. The premise is interesting, and the acting is fine, but the film meanders and has a weak ending. Written and directed by Elvira Lind.
The Present ***½ (Palestine, 25 mins) – The premise is simple: As a surprise gift for his wife on their anniversary, a man goes shopping for a new fridge with his adorable young daughter in tow. If this were a sitcom, my next line would be “unexpected hi-jinks ensue” …but as the man and his daughter are Palestinians living in the West Bank, they must navigate heavily guarded checkpoints, segregated roads and moody, unpredictable soldiers who essentially treat them like suspected terrorists at every turn. And as writer-director Farah Nabulsi deftly illustrates in her affecting allegory, there is nothing funny about the seemingly unsolvable impasse in the region.
Two Distant Strangers ***½ (USA, 29 mins) – A cartoonist (Joey Bada$$) hooks up with a beautiful woman (Zaria Simone). In the morning, he awakens and heads for his own apartment to tend to his dog but is asphyxiated while being restrained by a racist cop (Andrew Howard) who has wrongly accused him of theft. Not a spoiler…because he reawakens in the woman’s apartment, sets off as before and ends up getting killed again in a slightly different scenario…but by the same cop. The cycle repeats, over and over. Will he ever make it home? Co-directors Travon Free and Martin Desmond Roe’s riff on Groundhog Day is an obvious allusion to the impetus behind the Black Lives Matter movement (reinforced by a heartbreaking roll call in the credits).
White Eye *** Israel, 20 mins) – Writer-director Tomar Shushan’s drama centers on an Israeli man who espies his recently stolen bicycle one evening, locked up outside of a meat processing plant. He calls the police, who tell him that unless he can provide proof of ownership, like a purchase receipt (he can’t), they are not authorized to cut the lock. They suggest he wait around and see if “the thief” shows up, then call them back. The man finds out that the bike belongs to an employee at the plant, an Eritrean immigrant who insists he bought the bike fair and square (although he cannot produce a receipt either). A well-constructed Solomon-like parable about judgement and empathy.
For more info on ways to view the Short Film programs, check out the ShortsTV website.
…and one more thing
Like many organizers of brick-and-mortar events that were scheduled for 2020, the staff of the Seattle International Film Festival (which usually opens mid-May and runs 3 weeks) were caught short by the pandemic last year and faced with some tough decisions:
That was then, this is now: The good news is, over the past year SIFF has rallied and curated its first-ever virtual festival for 2021, which runs from April 8th to April 18th (via the SIFF Channel, available on Roku, Fire TV, Android TV and Apple TV—or online at watch.siff.net). The slate features a grand total of 219 films, including 93 feature length films from 69 countries. Additionally, SIFF will be streaming 126 short films. Beginning with next week’s post, I’ll be sharing highlights as I plow in! For info on tickets and more, visit the SIFF website.
I was saddened to learn of George Segal’s passing earlier this week. I confess up front that I have zero awareness of his latter-career television work; but then again, I haven’t followed any network sitcoms with much interest since Seinfeld went off the air in 1998.
For me Segal’s visage will be forever associated with a streak of memorable film roles from the mid-60s through the late 70s (perusing his credits on the Internet Movie Database, I realized that apart from David O. Russell’s 1996 comedy Flirting with Disaster I have not seen any of Segal’s big screen work beyond Lost and Found (Melvin Frank’s disappointing 1979 sequel to his own 1973 romantic comedy A Touch of Class).
I will remember him for his masterful comic timing (he was the king of the reaction shot) but he also had great drama chops. He was also a decent banjo player (I searched in earnest for any instance where he may have jammed with Steve Martin…but alas, if it did happen, there is no extant footage). Here are my top 10 George Segal recommendations:
Bye Bye Braverman – Viewer caution: This film contains graphic depictions of extreme Jewishness (I’m allowed to say that…I’ve lived it). A lesser-known gem from Sidney Lumet, this 1968 comedy-drama follows the escapades of four Manhattan intellectuals (Segal, Joseph Wiseman, Jack Warden and Sorrell Booke) who pile into a red Beetle and spend a Sunday afternoon schlepping around Brooklyn searching for the funeral of a mutual friend who dropped dead following a coronary. Much middle-age angst ensues.
Episodic but bolstered by wonderful performances and several memorable scenes. My favorite involves a fender-bender with the great Godfrey Cambridge, playing a fast-talking cabbie who has converted to Judaism. Another great segment features Alan King as a rabbi giving an off-the wall eulogy. A scene where Segal delivers a soliloquy about modern society while strolling through a vast cemetery will now have added poignancy.
The screenplay was adapted from Wallace Markfield’s novel by Herb Sargent, who later become a top writer for Saturday Night Live from 1975-1995. Also in the cast: Phyllis Newman, Zohra Lampert and Jessica Walter (who also passed away this week, sadly).
California Split – While it has its share of protracted scenes and an unhurried, naturalistic rhythm you expect from Robert Altman, I think this 1974 comedy-drama is the director’s tightest, most economical film; I would even venture it’s damn near perfect.
A pro gambler (Elliot Gould) and a compulsive gambler with a straight day job (Segal) bond after getting roughed up and robbed by a sore loser and his pals in a poker parlor parking lot. Gould invites Segal to sleep over at his place, a house he shares with two self-employed sex workers (Ann Prentiss and Gwen Welles). The men become gambling buddies. Soon they are mutual enablers, spiraling down the rabbit hole of their addiction.
The film doubles as a beautifully acted character study and a fascinating, documentary-like dive into the myopic, almost subterranean subculture of the degenerate gambler. As Roger Ebert put it so beautifully in his original review of the film: “This movie has a taste in its mouth like stale air-conditioning, and no matter what time it seems to be, it’s always five in the morning in a second-rate casino.” Perceptive screenplay by actor Joseph Walsh, who also has a great cameo as a menacing loan shark.
The Hot Rock– Although it starts out as a by-the-numbers diamond heist caper, this 1972 Peter Yates film delivers a unique twist halfway through: the diamond needs to be stolen all over again (so it’s back to the drawing board). There’s even a little political intrigue in the mix. The film boasts a William Goldman screenplay (adapted from a Donald E. Westlake novel) and a knockout cast (Segal, Robert Redford Zero Mostel, Ron Leibman, Paul Sand and Moses Gunn). Redford and Segal make a great team, and the film finds a nice balance between suspense and humor. Lots of fun.
Loving – American Beauty meets The Prisoner of Second Avenue in this 1970 sleeper, directed by the eclectic Irvin Kershner (A Fine Madness, The Flim-Flam Man, Eyes of Laura Mars, Never Say Never Again). Segal is in his element as a freelance commercial illustrator and suburban dad on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Dissatisfied with his own work, on the rocks with both his wife (Eva Marie Saint) and his Manhattan mistress (Janis Young), he’s fighting an existential uphill battle trying to keep everyone in his life happy.
The story builds slowly, culminating in a near-classic party scene up there with the one in Hal Ashby’s Shampoo. Patient viewers will notice the film is well constructed and despite being made 50 years ago, still has much to say about modern manners and mores (all in the space of 90 minutes). The intelligent screenplay was adapted from J.M. Ryan’s novel by Don Devlin.
The Owl and the Pussycat – Segal plays a reclusive, egghead NYC writer and Barbra Streisand is a perfect foil in one of her best comedic turns as a profane, boisterous sex worker in this classic “oil and water” farce, directed by Herbert Ross. Serendipity throws the two odd bedfellows together one fateful evening, and the resulting mayhem is crude, lewd, and funny as hell. Buck Henry adapted his screenplay from Bill Manhoff’s original stage version. Robert Klein is wonderfully droll in a small but memorable role. My favorite line: “Doris…you’re a sexual Disneyland!”
The Terminal Man – Paging Dr. Jekyll! Segal is excellent in the lead as a gifted computer scientist who has developed a neurological disorder which triggers murderously psychotic blackout episodes. He becomes the guinea pig for an experimental cure that requires a microchip to be planted in his brain to circumvent the attacks.
Although it’s essentially “sci-fi”, this 1974 effort shares some interesting characteristics with the post-Watergate paranoid political thrillers that all seemed to propagate around that same time (especially The Parallax View, which also broached the subject of mind control). Director Mike Hodges (who directed the original version of Get Carter) adapted his screenplay from Michael Crichton’s novel.
A Touch of Class – Directed by Melvin Frank (The Court Jester, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum) this 1973 film was co-written by the director with Jack Rose and Marvin Frank. Segal and Glenda Jackson make a great comedy tag team as a married American businessman and British divorcee who, following two chance encounters in London, realize there’s a mutual attraction and embark on an affair. The best part of the film concerns the clandestine lovers’ first romantic getaway on a trip to Spain. The story falters a bit in the third act, when it begins to vacillate a little clumsily between comedy and morality tale, but when it’s funny, it’s very funny.
Where’s Poppa? – If you are easily offended, do not go anywhere near this film. But if you believe nothing is sacred in comedy and enjoy laughing so hard that you plotz-see it.
Where do I start? Carl Reiner’s 1970 black comedy (adapted by Robert Klane from his own novel) concerns a New York City attorney (Segal) who lives in a cramped apartment with his senile mother (Ruth Gordon). Honoring a deathbed promise to his dearly departed poppa, Segal takes care of his mother (well, as best he can). She is a…handful.
The beleaguered Segal’s day begins with prepping his mother’s preferred breakfast of 6 orange slices and a heaping bowl of Pepsi and Lucky Charms (interestingly, in California Split Segal himself is served a breakfast of beer and Fruit Loops by the two sex workers).
His businessman brother (Ron Leibman) is too “busy” to help, so Segal must hire nurses to take care of ma while he’s at work. Unfortunately, she has a habit of driving them away with her over-the-top behavior. When Segal falls head-over-heels in love with the latest hire (Trish Van Devere, in a priceless performance), his thoughts about how he’s going to “take care” of ma and keep this blossoming romance abloom become…darker.
Segal was rarely so hilariously exasperated as he gets here, it’s Gordon’s best (and most outrageous) comic performance, and the supporting cast (which includes Barnard Hughes, Vincent Gardenia, Paul Sorvino and Garrett Morris) is aces. Again, this film is not for all tastes (it would never get green-lighted now) …but rates as one of my all-time favorite comedies.
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? – If words were needles, university history professor George (Richard Burton) and his wife Martha (Elizabeth Taylor) would look like a pair of porcupines, because after years of shrill, shrieking matrimony, these two have become maestros of the barbed insult, and the poster children for the old axiom, “you only hurt the one you love”. Mike Nichols’ 1966 directing debut (adapted by Ernest Lehman from Edward Albee’s Tony-winning stage play) gives us a peek into one night in the life of this battle-scarred middle-aged couple.
After a faculty party, George and Martha invite a young newlywed couple (Segal and Sandy Dennis) over for a nightcap. As the ever-flowing alcohol kicks in, the evening becomes a veritable primer in bad human behavior. It’s basically a four-person play, but these are all fine actors, and the writing is the real star of this piece.
Here are some additional George Segal films worth a look:
King Rat (1965; WW2 drama, dir. Bryan Forbes)
The Quiller Memorandum (1966; Cold War spy thriller, dir. Michael Anderson)
Blume in Love (1973; romantic comedy-drama, dir. Paul Mazursky)
The Duchess and the Dirtwater Fox (1976; western comedy, dir. Melvin Frank)
Fun with Dick and Jane (1977; crime caper/social satire, dir. Ted Kotcheff)
Who is Killing the Great Chefs of Europe? (1978; comedy-mystery, dir. Ted Kotcheff)
Flirting with Disaster (1996; comedy, dir. David O. Russell)
I was sad to learn actor Yaphet Kotto has passed away at age 81. Most of the headlines today are along the lines of “Yaphet Kotto, star of Live & Let Die…” Well yes, his “Mr. Big” was one of the more memorable Bond villains, but that was hardly his defining role! His other big-screen credits included Nothing But a Man, Across 110th Street, Blue Collar, Alien, Brubaker and Midnight Run. He was also an accomplished stage actor.
He had a stereotype-shattering role as Lt. Al Giardello on David Simon’s brilliant police procedural series “Homicide” (1993-1999) which showcased his considerable acting chops.
My favorite Yaphet Kotto feature film performance is in Paul Schrader’s 1978 drama Blue Collar (co-written by his brother Leonard). Richard Pryor, Harvey Keitel and Kotto portray Detroit auto workers tired of getting the short end of the stick from both their employer and their union. In a fit of drunken pique, they pull an ill-advised caper that gets them in trouble with both parties, ultimately putting friendship and loyalty to the test.
Akin to Elia Kazan’s On the Waterfront, Schrader subverts the standard black-and-white “union good guy, company bad guy” trope with shades of gray, reminding us the road to Hell is sometimes paved with good intentions. Great score by Jack Nitzsche and Ry Cooder, with a memorable theme song featuring Captain Beefheart (“I’m jest a hard-woikin’, fucked-over man…”).
Kotto was also a good sport. In 1994 he appeared “as himself” as part of this fascinating social experiment conducted by Michael Moore for his 1-season series TV Nation. This bit presages the “prank with a point” that has become stock-in-trade for Sacha Baron Cohen.
Kay: You know how naïve you sound? Presidents and Senators don’t have men killed.
Michael: Oh. Who’s being naïve, Kay?
— from The Godfather
While it is based on a true story and billed as a “biopic”, Shaka King’s new film Judas and the Black Messiah feels more akin to fictional early 70s conspiracy thrillers like The Conversation, The Parallax View or Three Days ofthe Condor. Those three films (released in proximity of the Watergate break-in scandal and President Richard Nixon’s consequent resignation) are permeated by an atmosphere of paranoia, distrust and betrayal that mirrors the climate of the Nixon era. That is not to imply Judas and the Black Messiah is made up from whole cloth. From a recent Democracy Now broadcast:
[Host Amy Goodman] Newly unearthed documents have shed new light on the FBI’s role in the murder of the 21-year-old Black Panther leader Fred Hampton on December 4, 1969, when Chicago police raided Hampton’s apartment and shot and killed him in his bed, along with fellow Black Panther leader Mark Clark. Authorities initially claimed the Panthers had opened fire on the police who were there to serve a search warrant for weapons, but evidence later emerged that told a very different story: The FBI, the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office and the Chicago police had conspired to assassinate Fred Hampton. FBI memos and reports obtained by historian and writer Aaron Leonard now show that senior FBI officials played key roles in planning the raid and the subsequent cover-up. “It was approved at the highest level,” says attorney Jeff Haas.
Federal, state, and local law enforcement agencies conspiring to assassinate an American citizen as he slept in his apartment? It happened. Haas, a founding member of the People’s Law Office in Chicago and one of the lead lawyers in the (posthumous) Fred Hampton civil rights case elaborated to host Amy Goodman (from the same broadcast):
But what [documents] showed was that [FBI Director J. Edgar] Hoover, [director of the FBI’s Domestic Intelligence Division William] Sullivan and [head of the Extremist Section of the Domestic Intelligence Division George] Moore were following Roy Mitchell, a special agent in charge, very closely with regard to [FBI informant Bill] O’Neal. And they were complimenting him and rewarding him from the moment he gave the information and the floor plan [for Fred Hampton’s apartment] to special agent Mitchell. They were congratulating Mitchell on what a wonderful job he did with this informant. Of course, Mitchell got the floor plan, gave it to Hanrahan’s [Chicago] police, and that’s what led to the raid. The floor plan even showed the bed where Hampton and Johnson would be sleeping.
So, we knew much of this. We knew O’Neal had gotten a bonus. We never knew Mitchell got a bonus. And we never knew that Hoover and Sullivan and Moore were starting to watch this in November, 10 days before it happened. They were monitoring exactly what went on. And so it was approved at the highest level. And during the trial, we had sought to go up to Sullivan and Moore and Hoover, but the judge wouldn’t allow us. And we thought perhaps even John Mitchell and Richard Nixon were involved. We didn’t have these documents, so we couldn’t uncover that. This also shows that after the raid, the head of the FBI in Chicago met with and congratulated the informant, O’Neal, thanked him for his information, which led to the success of the raid.
Possible direct involvement by the White House certainly qualifies as the “highest level”. It is also interesting that an “Extremist Section of the Domestic Intelligence Division” existed in 1969 to keep close watch on the Panthers and other organizations that shared what present-day Fox primetime hosts might sneeringly refer to as “radical extremist socialist agendas” (BTW if such a special section still exists…where was their vigilance this past January 6th?).
That is a lot to unpack; much less in a 2-hour film. Perhaps wisely, writer-director King and co-writers Will Berson, Kenneth Lucas and Keith Lucas focus less on the complex political machinations and more on the personal aspects of the story.
More specifically, the filmmakers construct a dual narrative that shows how the life paths of charismatic Marxist revolutionary Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya) and the man who would ultimately play “Judas” to his “black messiah”, Bill O’Neal (LaKeith Stanfield) converged. There isn’t much backstory offered explaining Hampton’s rapid transformation from aspiring law student who joined the NAACP in the mid-60s to founder of the Chicago chapter of the Black Panthers in 1968; but then again, considering that he was dead and gone by age 21, his historical impact seems all the more remarkable.
On the other hand, O’Neal (who was one year younger than Hampton) is a man with less lofty ideals and negligible passion for politics. He is a career criminal whose luck runs out when he gets nailed for a felony beef after driving a stolen car across state lines. The arresting officer is FBI agent Roy Mitchell (Jesse Plemons) who offers O’Neal a way out: infiltrate the Chicago chapter of the Black Panthers, become an FBI informant, and win fabulous prizes (like having his felony charges disappear). O’Neal accepts the deal.
O’Neal ingratiates himself with Hampton, to the point where he becomes a member of the Chairman’s trusted inner circle. Along the way, the filmmakers offer a Cliff’s Notes summary of Hampton’s brief but productive tenure as head of the Chicago Panthers; his implementation of a program providing free breakfasts for schoolchildren, establishment of a free clinic, and (most impressively) mediating a peace treaty between long-time rival Chicago street gangs (ultimately leading to formation of the original multiracial “Rainbow Coalition”).
Ironically, it’s not so much what Hampton “does” that matters one way or the other to FBI director Hoover (Martin Sheen) and the rest of the posse out to “neutralize” the threat (perceived or otherwise) Hampton represents to the status quo, but rather what he says…which is at times incendiary and what some might even call seditious (Hoover is on record declaring the Panthers “the greatest threat to the internal security of the country”).
Just months before his death Hampton is arrested for (of all things) stealing $70 worth of candy. He is convicted, but the charges are overturned. There were several police raids on the Black Panthers’ HQ the same year, although the filmmakers distill them into one shootout incident. Clearly, the authorities were circling their prey, culminating in the fateful late-night raid in December of 1969 that left Hampton and fellow Panther Mark Clarke dead and several people wounded. The reenactment of the incident is harrowing and affecting.
Ballistic evidence revealed one shot fired by the Panthers…and 100 (one hundred) shots fired by the police. Maybe it’s just me, but that sounds more like a police “assault” than a police “raid”. One of the people in the apartment that night was Hampton’s eight-month pregnant girlfriend Deborah Johnson (wonderfully played in the film by Dominique Fishback, who was a standout in the HBO series The Deuce). No matter how you may view Hampton’s place in history (hero or villain) the circumstances of his demise should dismay anyone familiar with the 14th Amendment of the Constitution, which says (among other things)
No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.
Judas and the Black Messiah is not a definitive biopic but does convey that what happened to Fred Hampton was an American tragedy…sadly, one that continues to occur to this day.