During my time as a film writer, I have never seen something receive the kind of crazy reception that has greeted Kathryn Bigelow's Detroit. When the hotly anticipated project screened for awards bloggers and critics, most praised the film's gritty sense of realism and its terrifying approach to an American tragedy. After the success of Bigelow's The Hurt Locker (which won Best Picture) and Zero Dark Thirty (which received a smattering of nominations), it appeared that the world's most prominent female director had another Oscar contender on her hands. But within a matter of weeks, the discussion around Detroit inevitably shifted to controversy, and the film's commercial and critical chances practically evaporated. Even those that praised the film before seemed to not have much of a desire to defend it, and some who loved it initially later claimed that they were wrong. It still stands at 84% on Rotten Tomatoes and at 78 on Metacritic, but the word surrounding Detroit has been remarkably negative. Its Oscar buzz is gone, and it's a certified box office bomb. The question left is- why?
Detroit is a gut punch of a movie. It is violent, it is chilling, and yes, it is effective. Kathryn Bigelow is a hell of a director when it comes to action and chaos, and she's able to create a horrifying portrait of anarchy, police brutality, and the racist spirit of America then and now. Bigelow and cinematographer Barry Ackroyd immerse you in the world of 1967 Detroit, and it is undeniably gripping and relentlessly intense. But after watching the film, I couldn't help but think that Bigelow was simply the wrong director to take on the material. Many have already commented on the fact that she's a white director telling an African-American story, and I don't believe it's my place to weigh in there, even though I find both sides of the argument fascinating. No, Bigelow is wrong in my eyes because the story of Detroit goes against all of her instincts as a filmmaker and storyteller.
I refuse to call Bigelow a cold filmmaker. Her films are not cold- they just handle emotion in a very different way. I'm not a huge fan of either of her previous two efforts, but they have their merits and they're certainly interesting films to dissect. The Hurt Locker and Zero Dark Thirty are procedural dramas, but they operate with an undercurrent of emotional intensity that is unique in that realm. Those films exist in a world with shades of grey, with moral codes being challenged and gut instincts being possibly dangerous. They are films of precise skill that also happen to be about big themes, like the thrill of warfare and the all-consuming obsessions that drive us. They are complex, nuanced character studies told in a clinical, fact-based fashion. Bigelow loves facts and realism, that's for sure. Whether you like this approach or not is entirely up to you, but these are just the hallmarks of Bigelow's recent run as a filmmaker.
I'm not saying that Bigelow should pigeon-hole herself and only make one kind of movie. As one of the most talented directors around, that would be wrong. But Detroit, for all of its aesthetic qualities and historical docudrama style, is not a film that plays to Bigelow's strengths. It's a film that utilizes all of her recent stylistic hallmarks, but Bigelow and screenwriter Mark Boal never adapt to the needs of the story. This is a tragic, harrowing, emotionally charged story about a battle between good people and a repugnant evil that will make you feel sick. In the story of Detroit, you can't keep the emotion under the surface. You can't handle everything in such a detached, clinical fashion. There is no grey area here. This is a movie that is meant to make you angry, and it succeeds in that task. But it does so in a way that didn't sit right with me- it's a movie that wants to have an impact on its audience, but it's not sure what that impact should be beyond absolute horror. You're left with an ambitious project that also manages to be a bit of a mess. It's a complex, difficult film to wrestle with, and there will be no shortage of varying reactions.
Detroit is an expansive narrative, and it deals with a variety of characters and storylines- some of which end up being shortchanged by the scope of the plot. All of the action is centered around the 1967 Detroit riots, which saw the city rise up after racial tensions between African-Americans and the brutal police force hit a boiling point. But the bulk of the movie takes place on one horrific night at the Algiers motel, where three police officers (Will Poulter, Jack Reynor, Ben O'Toole) killed, tortured, and harassed a group of citizens, claiming that a gun in the motel was being used to shoot at cops. If I was to pick a protagonist in the story, it's Larry (Algee Smith), the leader of a Motown group called The Dramatics and a man who unfortunately finds himself at the center of the motel incident along with his friend, Fred (Jacob Latimore). There's also Melvin (John Boyega), a security guard who gets caught up in the Algiers horrors only to find himself being blamed for the events. Tragedy and brutality haunt these characters- and of course, justice will never be served.
For all of the issues that come into play when discussing Bigelow's handling of cinematic violence, I think the messiness of this film is being sorely overlooked. Detroit lacks a central character, and it seems to be torn between being a movie about the riots and the impact they had and a movie that focuses in on one specific incident. So ultimately, you have a narrative that spans a lengthy 143 minutes and basically goes nowhere, despite always having something going on. It's a film of incongruous parts, one with a first act that feels out of place and a finale that feels cliched and superfluous. The strange thing is that most of these individual moments are effective- the opening scenes in an after hours club are tense, and the starting point for the riot is raw and invigorating. But when you push all these things together, the result is something less than satisfying.
The characters are a real problem here, and upon further consideration, I kept coming to the realization that some people could be cut from the film entirely. There's a sort of basic empathy that comes with this story, as it's hard not to feel immense pain for human beings who are being beaten to death by such despicable individuals. But Bigelow and Boal rely on this too much, and they never really flesh out their characters here. Many characters seem to have no real purpose in the narrative, such as John Boyega's Melvin, who is positioned as the sole African-American character in a position of authority. Melvin is later scapegoated for the murders, a subplot that goes absolutely nowhere once the police end up being coerced into a confession. I feel like Boal is trying to make some kind of commentary here, but it rings false because we don't know the character that well and it doesn't fit the greater narrative. Throughout Detroit, I repeatedly questioned the purpose of scenes and narrative devices. This film needed to either be much shorter and tighter, or it should have been something else altogether. I'm not sure which approach works best, but it definitely isn't whatever's going on here.
Bigelow is a strong filmmaker, and her eye for re-creating history never falters. Detroit is a well-directed film, one that is both immersive and disturbing. When major critics claimed that this film played out like a grindhouse horror movie, I didn't believe them. But it's absolutely true- Detroit is practically a home invasion thriller, as innocent civilians are terrorized by vicious, cruel outsiders. Bigelow fully commits to this style, and it's as pulse-pounding as it is nauseating. But this is the part of the story where once again, I began to question Bigelow's purpose. Why is she showing us all of this violence in such graphic, painstaking detail? What is the ultimate goal here- what is she trying to tell us? I can't get much from it other than some surface-level observations about America's history of racial violence and injustice. Bigelow and Boal have always intended to show history in a very straight-forward manner, which is something that works in the military world that their last two films occupied. But when you're dealing with such nasty, stomach-churning material, there has to be a point.
Now, I'm not opposed to the idea of showing this kind of material on the big screen. This is a historical event, an ugly part of our nation's identity. But the approach by Bigelow is simply wrong, and as intense and nerve-shredding as it is, there's something that doesn't feel right about the way that Detroit's most gruesome moments play out. However, when it comes to many of the movie's big problems, the blame has to be shifted to one person- Mark Boal. I'll say it flat-out- this is a bad screenplay. The dialogue is frequently cringe-inducing, characters are flat and one-note, and the film often feels very staged. For all of Bigelow and Boal's attempts at authenticity, there's something deeply inauthentic about this film, and it struck me in a weird way at many moments.
Detroit is effective. I can't take that away from it. This film will make you angry- no question about it. But as both a story and a piece of filmmaking, Detroit is riddled with so many problems that take away from a deeply important cinematic rendition of a tragedy. Bigelow and Boal are talented people, but there are working with the wrong material here. There is no heart, no soul to the movie. There is no central character to connect with. It is a detailed, disturbing portrait of violence that is meant to shock you into submission. And that it does. But the utter lack of humanity, the nuance-free presentation by the filmmakers leaves Detroit feeling empty. It's a mess that serves no real purpose, and while its blunt impact is always felt, it leaves the wrong kind of impression.
THE FINAL GRADE: C+ (6.2/10)
Images courtesy of Annapurna
Detroit is a gut punch of a movie. It is violent, it is chilling, and yes, it is effective. Kathryn Bigelow is a hell of a director when it comes to action and chaos, and she's able to create a horrifying portrait of anarchy, police brutality, and the racist spirit of America then and now. Bigelow and cinematographer Barry Ackroyd immerse you in the world of 1967 Detroit, and it is undeniably gripping and relentlessly intense. But after watching the film, I couldn't help but think that Bigelow was simply the wrong director to take on the material. Many have already commented on the fact that she's a white director telling an African-American story, and I don't believe it's my place to weigh in there, even though I find both sides of the argument fascinating. No, Bigelow is wrong in my eyes because the story of Detroit goes against all of her instincts as a filmmaker and storyteller.
I refuse to call Bigelow a cold filmmaker. Her films are not cold- they just handle emotion in a very different way. I'm not a huge fan of either of her previous two efforts, but they have their merits and they're certainly interesting films to dissect. The Hurt Locker and Zero Dark Thirty are procedural dramas, but they operate with an undercurrent of emotional intensity that is unique in that realm. Those films exist in a world with shades of grey, with moral codes being challenged and gut instincts being possibly dangerous. They are films of precise skill that also happen to be about big themes, like the thrill of warfare and the all-consuming obsessions that drive us. They are complex, nuanced character studies told in a clinical, fact-based fashion. Bigelow loves facts and realism, that's for sure. Whether you like this approach or not is entirely up to you, but these are just the hallmarks of Bigelow's recent run as a filmmaker.
I'm not saying that Bigelow should pigeon-hole herself and only make one kind of movie. As one of the most talented directors around, that would be wrong. But Detroit, for all of its aesthetic qualities and historical docudrama style, is not a film that plays to Bigelow's strengths. It's a film that utilizes all of her recent stylistic hallmarks, but Bigelow and screenwriter Mark Boal never adapt to the needs of the story. This is a tragic, harrowing, emotionally charged story about a battle between good people and a repugnant evil that will make you feel sick. In the story of Detroit, you can't keep the emotion under the surface. You can't handle everything in such a detached, clinical fashion. There is no grey area here. This is a movie that is meant to make you angry, and it succeeds in that task. But it does so in a way that didn't sit right with me- it's a movie that wants to have an impact on its audience, but it's not sure what that impact should be beyond absolute horror. You're left with an ambitious project that also manages to be a bit of a mess. It's a complex, difficult film to wrestle with, and there will be no shortage of varying reactions.
Detroit is an expansive narrative, and it deals with a variety of characters and storylines- some of which end up being shortchanged by the scope of the plot. All of the action is centered around the 1967 Detroit riots, which saw the city rise up after racial tensions between African-Americans and the brutal police force hit a boiling point. But the bulk of the movie takes place on one horrific night at the Algiers motel, where three police officers (Will Poulter, Jack Reynor, Ben O'Toole) killed, tortured, and harassed a group of citizens, claiming that a gun in the motel was being used to shoot at cops. If I was to pick a protagonist in the story, it's Larry (Algee Smith), the leader of a Motown group called The Dramatics and a man who unfortunately finds himself at the center of the motel incident along with his friend, Fred (Jacob Latimore). There's also Melvin (John Boyega), a security guard who gets caught up in the Algiers horrors only to find himself being blamed for the events. Tragedy and brutality haunt these characters- and of course, justice will never be served.
For all of the issues that come into play when discussing Bigelow's handling of cinematic violence, I think the messiness of this film is being sorely overlooked. Detroit lacks a central character, and it seems to be torn between being a movie about the riots and the impact they had and a movie that focuses in on one specific incident. So ultimately, you have a narrative that spans a lengthy 143 minutes and basically goes nowhere, despite always having something going on. It's a film of incongruous parts, one with a first act that feels out of place and a finale that feels cliched and superfluous. The strange thing is that most of these individual moments are effective- the opening scenes in an after hours club are tense, and the starting point for the riot is raw and invigorating. But when you push all these things together, the result is something less than satisfying.
The characters are a real problem here, and upon further consideration, I kept coming to the realization that some people could be cut from the film entirely. There's a sort of basic empathy that comes with this story, as it's hard not to feel immense pain for human beings who are being beaten to death by such despicable individuals. But Bigelow and Boal rely on this too much, and they never really flesh out their characters here. Many characters seem to have no real purpose in the narrative, such as John Boyega's Melvin, who is positioned as the sole African-American character in a position of authority. Melvin is later scapegoated for the murders, a subplot that goes absolutely nowhere once the police end up being coerced into a confession. I feel like Boal is trying to make some kind of commentary here, but it rings false because we don't know the character that well and it doesn't fit the greater narrative. Throughout Detroit, I repeatedly questioned the purpose of scenes and narrative devices. This film needed to either be much shorter and tighter, or it should have been something else altogether. I'm not sure which approach works best, but it definitely isn't whatever's going on here.
Bigelow is a strong filmmaker, and her eye for re-creating history never falters. Detroit is a well-directed film, one that is both immersive and disturbing. When major critics claimed that this film played out like a grindhouse horror movie, I didn't believe them. But it's absolutely true- Detroit is practically a home invasion thriller, as innocent civilians are terrorized by vicious, cruel outsiders. Bigelow fully commits to this style, and it's as pulse-pounding as it is nauseating. But this is the part of the story where once again, I began to question Bigelow's purpose. Why is she showing us all of this violence in such graphic, painstaking detail? What is the ultimate goal here- what is she trying to tell us? I can't get much from it other than some surface-level observations about America's history of racial violence and injustice. Bigelow and Boal have always intended to show history in a very straight-forward manner, which is something that works in the military world that their last two films occupied. But when you're dealing with such nasty, stomach-churning material, there has to be a point.
Now, I'm not opposed to the idea of showing this kind of material on the big screen. This is a historical event, an ugly part of our nation's identity. But the approach by Bigelow is simply wrong, and as intense and nerve-shredding as it is, there's something that doesn't feel right about the way that Detroit's most gruesome moments play out. However, when it comes to many of the movie's big problems, the blame has to be shifted to one person- Mark Boal. I'll say it flat-out- this is a bad screenplay. The dialogue is frequently cringe-inducing, characters are flat and one-note, and the film often feels very staged. For all of Bigelow and Boal's attempts at authenticity, there's something deeply inauthentic about this film, and it struck me in a weird way at many moments.
Detroit is effective. I can't take that away from it. This film will make you angry- no question about it. But as both a story and a piece of filmmaking, Detroit is riddled with so many problems that take away from a deeply important cinematic rendition of a tragedy. Bigelow and Boal are talented people, but there are working with the wrong material here. There is no heart, no soul to the movie. There is no central character to connect with. It is a detailed, disturbing portrait of violence that is meant to shock you into submission. And that it does. But the utter lack of humanity, the nuance-free presentation by the filmmakers leaves Detroit feeling empty. It's a mess that serves no real purpose, and while its blunt impact is always felt, it leaves the wrong kind of impression.
THE FINAL GRADE: C+ (6.2/10)
Images courtesy of Annapurna
Comments
Post a Comment