BlacKkKlansman (2018)

Since George Floyd was murdered by police on May 25, 2020, we have seen protests erupt in all 50 states within the United States and 50 countries across the world on every continent except for Antarctica. The United States has sanctioned unchecked police brutality for far, far too long; a symptom of the systemic racism of a country that was built by slaves upon stolen land. Since May 25, the stories of murdered innocent Black people have been shared, as well as countless videos of the police brutalizing protestors at anti-police brutality protests.

There have been Black Lives Matter protests in the past. There have been riots, and officers have used tear gas and rubber bullets. What we are seeing on the news and in our neighborhoods is not new, but it has never been quite like this. Putting COVID concerns aside, people are taking to the streets to protest and raise awareness about the corruption of the police force in the United States, the inequality of the criminal justice system, and the systemic racism that is at this country’s heart.

For white people, this is a time to listen. We need to listen to Black people and hear their stories. We need to self-reflect and assess how our privilege has shielded us from much of the ugliness and terror that Black people experience daily. White people need to be vocal about their disdain for the actions of the police and the system of oppression within the United States. At the same time, we need to genuinely listen to other people and hear exactly how this country operates and functions differently for Black, Indigenous, People of Color than it does for white people.

I have always believed that movies can change the world; they hold the power to examine topics that many people are uncomfortable discussing. Movies can get the ball moving so that we have a starting point from which the conversation can begin.

This is a list of seven films that explore police brutality and systemic racism made by Black filmmakers. These are important movies to watch and to take in, as — through the power of cinema — they showcase what it feels like to be a Black person living in a country that is internally designed to be against you.

(Note: This article was originally publiched by Mick Cohen-Carroll on Medium in June 2020. For current information about the state of the racial justice movement in America, I recommend reading updates about Derek Chauvin's trial, this interview with Kentucky's Rep. Attica Scott about the ongoing imapct of Breonna Taylor's murder, this update about the shooting of Jacob Blake, and this analysis of the scope of Black Lives Matter protests.)

Hollywood loves to jump on current events, especially those with big socio-political ramifications. There have been timely movies about pretty much every news-worthy incident since WWI. However, stories about race or racial injustice are often eclipsed or buried under other tragic events. So, through the films they produce and finance, how will Hollywood react to the current status quo? It’d be interesting to discover their approach in the wake of the George Floyd protests (which are largely peaceful) and the call to action for anti-racism. There are two things to consider. The first is that Hollywood, after all, is a business and the second is that Hollywood might not be as socially liberal as the right-wing claims.

Though there is room for art, and you must be creative to make a film, the movie industry is, after all, just that: an industry. And in an industry, the primary goal is to make money. If it’s art, great, but that is not the end goal. Artistry is the byproduct. That is why people like Martin Scorsese call the Marvel movies “theme parks” and not cinema. He makes the distinction that cinema is (by his definition) more daring, unexpected, honest and artistic.

So while “cinema” (used in the Scorsesian sense) does exist, the rise in blockbuster movies with high budgets and explosively high box office returns shows that Hollywood is primarily interested in making money. That is why it attracts people to become top execs and producers, like Steve Mnuchin, the current Secretary of the Treasury. Hard to believe that the ex-Goldman Sachs investment banker was in it for the art or the love of cinema.

Since George Floyd was murdered by police on May 25, 2020, we have seen protests erupt in all 50 states within the United States and 50 countries across the world on every continent except for Antarctica. The United States has sanctioned unchecked police brutality for far, far too long; a symptom of the systemic racism of a country that was built by slaves upon stolen land. Since May 25, the stories of murdered innocent Black people have been shared, as well as countless videos of the police brutalizing protestors at anti-police brutality protests.

There have been Black Lives Matter protests in the past. There have been riots, and officers have used tear gas and rubber bullets. What we are seeing on the news and in our neighborhoods is not new, but it has never been quite like this. Putting COVID concerns aside, people are taking to the streets to protest and raise awareness about the corruption of the police force in the United States, the inequality of the criminal justice system, and the systemic racism that is at this country’s heart.

For white people, this is a time to listen. We need to listen to Black people and hear their stories. We need to self-reflect and assess how our privilege has shielded us from much of the ugliness and terror that Black people experience daily. White people need to be vocal about their disdain for the actions of the police and the system of oppression within the United States. At the same time, we need to genuinely listen to other people and hear exactly how this country operates and functions differently for Black, Indigenous, People of Color than it does for white people.

I have always believed that movies can change the world; they hold the power to examine topics that many people are uncomfortable discussing. Movies can get the ball moving so that we have a starting point from which the conversation can begin.

After years of being ignored, shut down, or shifted around, I think we’re finally getting somewhere with black cinema getting its due. I think it is finally at the point where mainstream audiences will just watch a movie for black audiences and not have it feel forced or empty. It’s not at the level it needs to be at just yet, but I do think it is getting traction. Not counting the Oscars (especially after seeing Green Book win last year), I think that black cinema is making waves with the general population, and that excites me, because that can break up the formulaic and problematic amount of films that reach audiences and can open up the door for other minorities to start appearing in film more now that it’s proving that movies with diversity CAN reach people of all backgrounds despite their intended audience. I think since 2016, there has been a stream of successful (and now iconic) movies by black artists, for black audiences, with general appeal. Moonlight, Fences, Get Out, Us, Blackkklansman, Blindspotting, If Beale Street Could Talk, Sorry to Bother You, The Hate U Give, and Black Panther are just a few of the plethora that come to mind, and all are great or excellent movies. It’s a far cry from times like 2004 where the most notable black led movies were Hotel Rwanda (white director) and White Chicks (infamously bad).

So, how does Queen & Slim hold up in this black film-making start of a renaissance? It’s…OK. And I’m not gonna lie: I am highly disappointed that it’s just OK, because this was one of the most anticipated films of the year for me, and for good reason. For starters, the premise is the best kind of hook you could ask for: A black man shoots a white police officer in self defense while on a Tinder date. He and the date go on the run. That’s an amazing idea to film a movie around. Likewise, it is the directorial debut of double Grammy winner Melina Matsoukas, who is best known for her fantastic music videos. And on top of that, Daniel Kaluuya, one of my up and coming favorite new actors, was one of the stars. And yes, I was somewhat right. The premise was intriguing. The direction was nice. The acting was great. But I forgot the cardinal virtue of good cinema: a solid script.

Spoilers going forward from here. You don’t want them, jump to the final paragraph.

Unfortunately, Queen & Slim is a very sloppy movie, and that is owed to the writing. It is, simply put, underwhelming. Very likely because it’s not offering anything new and refreshing to witness. And I think the film is self aware of that, and overcompensates by trying to put in extra effort to look iconic. That photo I posted above is the movie’s moment of saying “Hey, this is a cool shot, right?!” and it’s also the final shot in the movie. There is a line in this movie (and it’s trailer) comparing Queen and Slim’s run from the law as the “Black Bonnie and Clyde”. Well, not really. Because Queen and Slim shoot an officer in self-defense, run off, live “free”, and most notably, die as martyrs, rather than as be rebellious or controversial cop killers. I think Queen & Slim actually could have benefited from being more ballsy and just having the duo take down cops all on their way to escape. But instead they’re just a bit too nice and charismatic, and when their getaway falls apart, it turns into another black pain movie that we’ve seen far too many times for it to carry the same weight. The writing is never sure if it wants to be an iconic drama or a dark comedy, and it dives into fantastical and surreal situations but never runs all the way with them. I want to like this movie so much more than I do, but it constantly gets in its own way with its clumsiness or pretentiousness. It has something to say, especially in the United States in 2019, but it appears to be so angry it can’t form a cohesive argument. It reminds me of this year’s Us, which I loved, but struggled to fully comprehend the message of. But I could at least get the gist of Us, and I had a lot of fun watching it. In the meanwhile, I walked away from Queen & Slim being more confused than impressed, and more thoughtful on my feelings towards it than the message it tried to deliver.

The two writers for Queen & Slim were Lena Waithe, who co-wrote the Emmy-winning Master of None “Thanksgiving” episode, a fantastic piece of television. When writing Queen & Slim, Waithe was working on a story she conceived with none other than James Frey, best known for his writing scandal rather than his actual work now. For those that are unaware, he infamously fabricated some of his writing and passed it off as auto-biographical, and told Larry King he embellished a few details…but when he saw Oprah, he cracked and said he flat out lied. So it makes sense that a fresh/talented writer and somewhat (?) talented author guilty of literary forgery did not make the best duo for writing a screenplay for a debut director. Each scene in Queen & Slim feels more like its own scene in another movie and while the scenes are decently engaging, the overall product of all the scenes put together is a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster.