The city of Oakland is the unbreakable core of Blindspotting, a new project from co-stars/writers Daveed Diggs and Rafael Casal and director Carlos López Estrada. The film is entrenched in the city's culture, music, and sports, but most importantly, it feels profoundly rooted in the intricacies of everyday life. The opening credits scene features a montage of scenes from the Bay, introducing the atmosphere of the city before we meet the characters. Even in comparison to Boots Riley's excellent Sorry to Bother You (another Oakland-set summer movie, which has permanently linked the two films in conversation), Blindspotting's portrayal of the city is more detailed and vivid, creating a sense of place that transcends mere setting. Oakland is the film's lifeblood, and without it, nothing would quite look the same.
In a way, the Oakland of Blindspotting mirrors the Brooklyn we see in Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing, an iconic masterpiece with a clear and omnipresent influence on Estrada's film. In Lee's joint, the neighborhood of Bed-Stuy feels rich and vibrant, populated with idiosyncratic characters and a feeling of community, much like this particular corner of Oakland. This film attempts to pull off Lee's ingenious mixture of humor and socially conscious drama, only to fall short in most respects. But in terms of creating a tangible quality to its setting, Estrada, Diggs, and Casal have made a work worthy of reverence.
This is a bold and original film, a thoroughly distinct journey with a look and feel of its own. Beyond its precise sense of location and culture, Blindspotting presents a combination of intense violence and thoughtful stretches of hip-hop slam poetry (a combination also found in Lee's recent Chi-Raq). The storytelling is smooth and spellbinding, alternating between traditional narrative movements and asides that will leave you speechless. Say what you will about the film, one thing is for certain- you won't see anything else like this at the multiplex this summer.
But to put it simply, Blindspotting is a million fascinating, provocative ideas in search of a story. The film follows Collin (Diggs), who is serving the final days of his probation for an unspecified crime (well, until later). He spends his nights in a halfway house, but his days are spent working for a moving company, along with childhood best friend Miles (Casal). Collin is also in the aftermath of a break-up with Val (Janina Gavankar), who just happens to work as the receptionist at the moving company. He has a curfew of 11 PM, doing his best to stay out of trouble with his probation officers, opting to spend time with Miles and his family.
Miles doesn't necessarily help matters, as he's the kind of guy who has never backed down from a fight. When returning home one night, Collin is a firsthand witness to a police shooting. A black man runs in front of the moving truck and dashes the other way, only for Officer Molina (Ethan Embry) to shoot him in the back. Collin is deeply shaken by this, sharing the news with Miles the next morning. And with his sentence winding down, Collin begins to think more carefully about everything in his life, including his closest friendship and the world that is constantly changing around him.
Each new scene in Blindspotting puts a brand new topic on the table, often without connecting these disparate ideas to one another. Diggs and Casal could be talking about the negative effects of Oakland gentrification in one scene, but the following scene could involve a pivot to police brutality and the film's core message of human blindspots. Of course, I'm not against a group of talented people tackling a broad range of topics in a single project. No good movie is about just one thing, and Diggs, Casal, and Estrada bring an obvious level of passion to each scene. The former two have written a ferocious character piece, laced with humor and pathos and brimming with innovation. They also each have the gift of a strong screen presence; Hamilton star Diggs is able to convey a mix of emotions without blinking, while Casal's unpredictability is mesmerizing. Estrada brings verve and creativity to the composition, frequently framing interactions in an unexpectedly unique manner.
It's a shame that Blindspotting frustrates as often as it provokes contemplation, rarely sticking the landing as forcefully as it could. Even when it's saying something of immense importance, the film is scattered and unfocused, throwing too many balls in the air and failing to juggle opposing tones. Instead of expanding on its authentic sense of atmosphere and culture, Blindspotting feels manufactured and manipulative. Its most dramatic moments arrive thanks to forced contrivances, especially the repeated usage of the whole Chekhov's Gun trope. Sure, Estrada squeezes quite a bit of tension from the mere presence of this pistol, but the gun remains in the picture against all logical odds, simply to push Collin and Miles into the next powerful moment.
But I don't want to get too caught up in the logic of certain developments. Effectiveness quickly arises as the real problem in Blindspotting, and it's one that remains unsolved throughout the entire film. Powerful, raw sequences are brushed aside with little regard for impact. The police killing early in the story is followed by several comedic interludes, depriving that harsh moment of the weight it deserves. These choices are seemingly made to further develop the complexities of our central characters, but it leaves the film without much of a core story.
Blindspotting gives you plenty to chew on as a viewer; there's arguably enough weighty material to overcome some of its more egregious flaws. Still, there's something unshakably disappointing about the disorganized approach, undermining the powerful thematic heart with a lack of narrative restraint. The filmmakers have a lot to say, but they don't quite know how to say it.
THE FINAL GRADE: C+ (5.8/10)
Images courtesy of Lionsgate
In a way, the Oakland of Blindspotting mirrors the Brooklyn we see in Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing, an iconic masterpiece with a clear and omnipresent influence on Estrada's film. In Lee's joint, the neighborhood of Bed-Stuy feels rich and vibrant, populated with idiosyncratic characters and a feeling of community, much like this particular corner of Oakland. This film attempts to pull off Lee's ingenious mixture of humor and socially conscious drama, only to fall short in most respects. But in terms of creating a tangible quality to its setting, Estrada, Diggs, and Casal have made a work worthy of reverence.
This is a bold and original film, a thoroughly distinct journey with a look and feel of its own. Beyond its precise sense of location and culture, Blindspotting presents a combination of intense violence and thoughtful stretches of hip-hop slam poetry (a combination also found in Lee's recent Chi-Raq). The storytelling is smooth and spellbinding, alternating between traditional narrative movements and asides that will leave you speechless. Say what you will about the film, one thing is for certain- you won't see anything else like this at the multiplex this summer.
But to put it simply, Blindspotting is a million fascinating, provocative ideas in search of a story. The film follows Collin (Diggs), who is serving the final days of his probation for an unspecified crime (well, until later). He spends his nights in a halfway house, but his days are spent working for a moving company, along with childhood best friend Miles (Casal). Collin is also in the aftermath of a break-up with Val (Janina Gavankar), who just happens to work as the receptionist at the moving company. He has a curfew of 11 PM, doing his best to stay out of trouble with his probation officers, opting to spend time with Miles and his family.
Miles doesn't necessarily help matters, as he's the kind of guy who has never backed down from a fight. When returning home one night, Collin is a firsthand witness to a police shooting. A black man runs in front of the moving truck and dashes the other way, only for Officer Molina (Ethan Embry) to shoot him in the back. Collin is deeply shaken by this, sharing the news with Miles the next morning. And with his sentence winding down, Collin begins to think more carefully about everything in his life, including his closest friendship and the world that is constantly changing around him.
Each new scene in Blindspotting puts a brand new topic on the table, often without connecting these disparate ideas to one another. Diggs and Casal could be talking about the negative effects of Oakland gentrification in one scene, but the following scene could involve a pivot to police brutality and the film's core message of human blindspots. Of course, I'm not against a group of talented people tackling a broad range of topics in a single project. No good movie is about just one thing, and Diggs, Casal, and Estrada bring an obvious level of passion to each scene. The former two have written a ferocious character piece, laced with humor and pathos and brimming with innovation. They also each have the gift of a strong screen presence; Hamilton star Diggs is able to convey a mix of emotions without blinking, while Casal's unpredictability is mesmerizing. Estrada brings verve and creativity to the composition, frequently framing interactions in an unexpectedly unique manner.
It's a shame that Blindspotting frustrates as often as it provokes contemplation, rarely sticking the landing as forcefully as it could. Even when it's saying something of immense importance, the film is scattered and unfocused, throwing too many balls in the air and failing to juggle opposing tones. Instead of expanding on its authentic sense of atmosphere and culture, Blindspotting feels manufactured and manipulative. Its most dramatic moments arrive thanks to forced contrivances, especially the repeated usage of the whole Chekhov's Gun trope. Sure, Estrada squeezes quite a bit of tension from the mere presence of this pistol, but the gun remains in the picture against all logical odds, simply to push Collin and Miles into the next powerful moment.
But I don't want to get too caught up in the logic of certain developments. Effectiveness quickly arises as the real problem in Blindspotting, and it's one that remains unsolved throughout the entire film. Powerful, raw sequences are brushed aside with little regard for impact. The police killing early in the story is followed by several comedic interludes, depriving that harsh moment of the weight it deserves. These choices are seemingly made to further develop the complexities of our central characters, but it leaves the film without much of a core story.
Blindspotting gives you plenty to chew on as a viewer; there's arguably enough weighty material to overcome some of its more egregious flaws. Still, there's something unshakably disappointing about the disorganized approach, undermining the powerful thematic heart with a lack of narrative restraint. The filmmakers have a lot to say, but they don't quite know how to say it.
THE FINAL GRADE: C+ (5.8/10)
Images courtesy of Lionsgate
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