During one scene in BlacKkKlansman, a fellow cop discusses the new strategy of Ku Klux Klan leader David Duke (Topher Grace) with John David Washington's Ron Stallworth, the man responsible for a major undercover investigation into the Colorado Springs chapter of the Klan. Stallworth's colleague explains that Duke is hoping to moderate and soften the message of the KKK, aiming to attract a broad swath of white men and women in the hopes of gaining political office. By the time Duke's master plan comes together, the Klan's message will have ascended all the way to the White House. It's the early 1970s, so Stallworth is understandably incredulous. The exact quote slips my mind at the moment, but the rookie cop says something to the extent of "The American people will never vote for someone like David Duke."
Let me tell you, the nervous laughter in my theater was something else.
To say that Spike Lee's latest joint is "about" one specific thing is all kinds of reductive. Each new scene finds Lee tackling a new and potent subject, all connected by one of the most unconventional and surprising buddy cop stories in recent memory. The film analyzes images of African-American representation in American cinema, and it also balances two opposing views of how to most effectively stifle the violent effects of racism. It presents a pseudo-comic take on the morons of the KKK, while simultaneously acknowledging their terrible impact on the collective American consciousness. But if I had to point in the direction of an over-arching idea, the director's critically-acclaimed Cannes sensation is a film determined to shift its lens towards the naivete of progress in the face of systemic hatred, an ideology of bigotry that has been passed down for generations.
BlacKkKlansman is a hugely satisfying middle finger to racists and neo-Nazis and KKK dolts, featuring characters who succeed in ways that are both traditionally heroic and just small enough to piss 'em off. Ron Stallworth saves lives by thwarting a planned attack, but it's just as thrilling to watch him wrap his arms around David Duke, clearly terrifying one of America's most notable racist scumbags. Lee has no shortage of hilarious sequences up his sleeve, but in the wake of Charlottesville (which plays a prominent role in the film) and the emergence of the alt-right, this fiery, invigorating new project asks a critical and disturbing question: What made us think this country could ever change?
After a prologue that puts some of the film's big picture ideas on the table, BlacKkKlansman introduces us to Ron Stallworth, who sees an ad encouraging minorities to apply for positions in the Colorado Springs Police Department. According to Chief Bridges (Robert John Burke) and an associate (Isiah Whitlock, Jr.) of the department, Stallworth would be the first black cop in the city- or, as they put it, the Jackie Robinson of Colorado Springs. The straight-laced college grad takes the job, but he absolutely despises the ho-hum doldrums of the mail room. Stallworth knows he can be an asset to the team, and he requests a different assignment.
Chief Bridges tasks Ron with infiltrating a local activist group, led by the committed and ambitious Patrice Dumas (Laura Harrier). The union is hosting a speech by civil rights leader Kwame Ture, a former Black Panther believed to be dangerous by Bridges and the CSPD. The infiltration leads Ron to a relationship with Patrice, but the rookie still believes his skills can be better used fighting some really dangerous individuals. Shocked to find an ad for the Ku Klux Klan in the local paper, Stallworth calls a high-ranking member of "The Organization" (Klan members won't call it the Klan), trying to set up a meeting.
Even if he didn't have time to think it through, but he quickly conjures up a plan to thwart the activities of the hate group. With a little help from Adam Driver's Flip Zimmerman, who serves as the undercover version of Stallworth, Colorado Springs' first black cop becomes a disruptive presence in the Klan, even making his way to the office of David Duke (Topher Grace) himself.
In a recent tweet or article about BlacKkKlansman, someone noted that this was a movie for white people to celebrate the death of racism in America, only for the conclusion to slap them in the face on their way out the door. It's all in the past, right? Not so much. While this may be the film's function for some, I remain unconvinced that this is actually who it's for. Unless a friend dragged you along or you just stumbled into the wrong theater, I have trouble believing that anyone truly oblivious to the state of this country is willfully watching a Spike Lee movie. People contain multitudes, but even I couldn't possibly reconcile that contradiction.
Instead, I think Lee has made a movie for people who believe firmly in progress. They have fought hard for progress. They professed the mantras of "Hope" and "Change." They hoped America could improve. Then they saw it all slowly erode, until it was annihilated completely. And in the form of the Charlottesville riots, everything they thought had been killed reared its ugly head again. The audience for BlacKkKlansman is coming to this movie in the hopes of finding some answers, discovering an explanation for what has happened in the U.S of A in 2018.
I'm not really sure they'll like the answer.
Lee paints a picture of a country where hate and discrimination are etched into the very fabric of society. Not only is this kind of white nationalism viciously resilient, it's also so deeply ingrained in every nook and cranny of the American experience that it's almost impossible to defeat. We see this hatred in our history books and the news, but we've also seen it over and over in what is supposedly our entertainment. The Birth of a Nation and Gone With the Wind weren't small indie movies relegated to film students- these were massive, cultural phenomenons that caused unbelievable paradigm shifts. The first major film in American history presented violent white supremacists as noble protectors of their race, while black men were portrayed in the most inhumane way imaginable. That's not something that can be washed away by a generation of progress.
The presence of these specific films in BlacKkKlansman is no accident. Lee is making a point about the way media shapes us, how the images we're presented form the world we recognize. In one of the film's most powerful sequences, a man (Harry Belafonte) tells the story of his friend's brutal lynching, which was partially influenced by Birth of a Nation's heroic portrayal of the Klan. This recitation of tragedy is contrasted with a Klan gathering, where they watch D.W. Griffith's infamous work. These films have shaped the collective mindset of America, further leaving the country in the nasty grip of hatred. We are fighting a tidal wave of history- a total defeat of this history is virtually unfathomable.
Don't get me wrong, BlacKkKlansman is not always a grim and heavy viewing experience. This is a very funny and clever film, working in ways that are both subtle and deliciously on-the-nose. Lee draws much of the humor from that unsettling connection to the present day, yet the film zeroes in on the idiocy of racists as its primary point of comic interest. David Duke and the Klan members of Colorado Springs may be insidious and heinous individuals, but they're also unbelievably stupid. Ron and Flip fool them without breaking a sweat, and it's a joy to watch.
But when it all ends, the hate lingers. The Klan still burns the cross. And even if Ron Stallworth stuck it to David Duke in the most humiliating way possible, did Duke's plan for the moderation of ethno-nationalism work? It's a scary question, one that's even more frightening when you consider Lee's portrayal of normalization and moderation in the film itself. And then to top it all off, Lee closes things out with a gut punch that will leave audiences in stunned silence. You could hear a pin drop in my theater. BlacKkKlansman is simply a chilling experience.
Beyond its forcefulness as a work of social advocacy, Lee's direction seems maximized for the strongest impact possible. The film builds in a controlled and careful fashion, expanding the story at just the right moments, with the phenomenal score from Terence Blanchard accompanying the action. John David Washington and Adam Driver are terrific as two cops navigating conflicted emotions, anchoring critical scenes in both grounded emotional realism and deadpan humor. Lee takes a while to get things started, and there are a few plot strands that I wish were explored in a more thoughtful way. Still, this is a raw and mesmerizing examination of American hatred, the kind of sinister malice that we may never quite overcome. If the measure of a great film is how much it leaves you to think about once the credits roll, BlacKkKlansman is one of the year's best.
THE FINAL GRADE: A- (8.8/10)
Images courtesy of Focus Features
Let me tell you, the nervous laughter in my theater was something else.
To say that Spike Lee's latest joint is "about" one specific thing is all kinds of reductive. Each new scene finds Lee tackling a new and potent subject, all connected by one of the most unconventional and surprising buddy cop stories in recent memory. The film analyzes images of African-American representation in American cinema, and it also balances two opposing views of how to most effectively stifle the violent effects of racism. It presents a pseudo-comic take on the morons of the KKK, while simultaneously acknowledging their terrible impact on the collective American consciousness. But if I had to point in the direction of an over-arching idea, the director's critically-acclaimed Cannes sensation is a film determined to shift its lens towards the naivete of progress in the face of systemic hatred, an ideology of bigotry that has been passed down for generations.
BlacKkKlansman is a hugely satisfying middle finger to racists and neo-Nazis and KKK dolts, featuring characters who succeed in ways that are both traditionally heroic and just small enough to piss 'em off. Ron Stallworth saves lives by thwarting a planned attack, but it's just as thrilling to watch him wrap his arms around David Duke, clearly terrifying one of America's most notable racist scumbags. Lee has no shortage of hilarious sequences up his sleeve, but in the wake of Charlottesville (which plays a prominent role in the film) and the emergence of the alt-right, this fiery, invigorating new project asks a critical and disturbing question: What made us think this country could ever change?
After a prologue that puts some of the film's big picture ideas on the table, BlacKkKlansman introduces us to Ron Stallworth, who sees an ad encouraging minorities to apply for positions in the Colorado Springs Police Department. According to Chief Bridges (Robert John Burke) and an associate (Isiah Whitlock, Jr.) of the department, Stallworth would be the first black cop in the city- or, as they put it, the Jackie Robinson of Colorado Springs. The straight-laced college grad takes the job, but he absolutely despises the ho-hum doldrums of the mail room. Stallworth knows he can be an asset to the team, and he requests a different assignment.
Chief Bridges tasks Ron with infiltrating a local activist group, led by the committed and ambitious Patrice Dumas (Laura Harrier). The union is hosting a speech by civil rights leader Kwame Ture, a former Black Panther believed to be dangerous by Bridges and the CSPD. The infiltration leads Ron to a relationship with Patrice, but the rookie still believes his skills can be better used fighting some really dangerous individuals. Shocked to find an ad for the Ku Klux Klan in the local paper, Stallworth calls a high-ranking member of "The Organization" (Klan members won't call it the Klan), trying to set up a meeting.
Even if he didn't have time to think it through, but he quickly conjures up a plan to thwart the activities of the hate group. With a little help from Adam Driver's Flip Zimmerman, who serves as the undercover version of Stallworth, Colorado Springs' first black cop becomes a disruptive presence in the Klan, even making his way to the office of David Duke (Topher Grace) himself.
In a recent tweet or article about BlacKkKlansman, someone noted that this was a movie for white people to celebrate the death of racism in America, only for the conclusion to slap them in the face on their way out the door. It's all in the past, right? Not so much. While this may be the film's function for some, I remain unconvinced that this is actually who it's for. Unless a friend dragged you along or you just stumbled into the wrong theater, I have trouble believing that anyone truly oblivious to the state of this country is willfully watching a Spike Lee movie. People contain multitudes, but even I couldn't possibly reconcile that contradiction.
Instead, I think Lee has made a movie for people who believe firmly in progress. They have fought hard for progress. They professed the mantras of "Hope" and "Change." They hoped America could improve. Then they saw it all slowly erode, until it was annihilated completely. And in the form of the Charlottesville riots, everything they thought had been killed reared its ugly head again. The audience for BlacKkKlansman is coming to this movie in the hopes of finding some answers, discovering an explanation for what has happened in the U.S of A in 2018.
I'm not really sure they'll like the answer.
Lee paints a picture of a country where hate and discrimination are etched into the very fabric of society. Not only is this kind of white nationalism viciously resilient, it's also so deeply ingrained in every nook and cranny of the American experience that it's almost impossible to defeat. We see this hatred in our history books and the news, but we've also seen it over and over in what is supposedly our entertainment. The Birth of a Nation and Gone With the Wind weren't small indie movies relegated to film students- these were massive, cultural phenomenons that caused unbelievable paradigm shifts. The first major film in American history presented violent white supremacists as noble protectors of their race, while black men were portrayed in the most inhumane way imaginable. That's not something that can be washed away by a generation of progress.
The presence of these specific films in BlacKkKlansman is no accident. Lee is making a point about the way media shapes us, how the images we're presented form the world we recognize. In one of the film's most powerful sequences, a man (Harry Belafonte) tells the story of his friend's brutal lynching, which was partially influenced by Birth of a Nation's heroic portrayal of the Klan. This recitation of tragedy is contrasted with a Klan gathering, where they watch D.W. Griffith's infamous work. These films have shaped the collective mindset of America, further leaving the country in the nasty grip of hatred. We are fighting a tidal wave of history- a total defeat of this history is virtually unfathomable.
Don't get me wrong, BlacKkKlansman is not always a grim and heavy viewing experience. This is a very funny and clever film, working in ways that are both subtle and deliciously on-the-nose. Lee draws much of the humor from that unsettling connection to the present day, yet the film zeroes in on the idiocy of racists as its primary point of comic interest. David Duke and the Klan members of Colorado Springs may be insidious and heinous individuals, but they're also unbelievably stupid. Ron and Flip fool them without breaking a sweat, and it's a joy to watch.
But when it all ends, the hate lingers. The Klan still burns the cross. And even if Ron Stallworth stuck it to David Duke in the most humiliating way possible, did Duke's plan for the moderation of ethno-nationalism work? It's a scary question, one that's even more frightening when you consider Lee's portrayal of normalization and moderation in the film itself. And then to top it all off, Lee closes things out with a gut punch that will leave audiences in stunned silence. You could hear a pin drop in my theater. BlacKkKlansman is simply a chilling experience.
Beyond its forcefulness as a work of social advocacy, Lee's direction seems maximized for the strongest impact possible. The film builds in a controlled and careful fashion, expanding the story at just the right moments, with the phenomenal score from Terence Blanchard accompanying the action. John David Washington and Adam Driver are terrific as two cops navigating conflicted emotions, anchoring critical scenes in both grounded emotional realism and deadpan humor. Lee takes a while to get things started, and there are a few plot strands that I wish were explored in a more thoughtful way. Still, this is a raw and mesmerizing examination of American hatred, the kind of sinister malice that we may never quite overcome. If the measure of a great film is how much it leaves you to think about once the credits roll, BlacKkKlansman is one of the year's best.
THE FINAL GRADE: A- (8.8/10)
Images courtesy of Focus Features
Comments
Post a Comment