There was no wasted space.
None.
My anxiety ran high… š š„ š°
āJudas and the Black Messiahā was engaging. It was thrilling. I justā
I was speechless.
Holding back tears.
I was in awe at myself because I knew the outcome of the story, but I was tense and worried about how the film would conclude.
ā¦again, no wasted space.
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I focused on the elements.
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The film begins with a mini documentary highlighting the mission and goals of theĀ Black Panther Party, and provided just enough exposition to posture the filmās narrative into a comfortable space. I appreciated that throughout the film whenever the camera would pass by the iconic photograph of Huey P. Newton sitting in the peacock rattan chair, with the rifle in his right hand and spear in the left, it served as a reset buttonāa collective deep breath to refocus the organizationās intentions.
(And it reminded me of the symbolism of the camera continuously sweeping by the photograph of Don Corleone during Connie and Carlo’s argument in their apartment in “The Godfather: Part I”.)
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The film was engulfed by close-ups and single shots. A deliberate choice.
The director of photography, Sean Bobbitt (12 Years a Slave, The Place Beyond the Pines) used low angle (upward-facing) close-ups and medium close-ups to frame speakers, usually Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya), in a commanding position of authority. A superior. It was intentional, smooth, and effective. Hampton was a skilled orator, and he demanded an audience whenever he spoke. Those scenes were expertly captured to reflect that focus.
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I took mental snapshots of scenes I thought were absolutely gorgeous.
One that stuck with me was a shot of LaKeith Stanfield as William “Bill” OāNeal, the petty criminal who worked with the FBI to infiltrate the Black Panther Party, in his apartment. In the scene, heās sitting in a dark room on a bed surrounded by a reddish-amber-hued light. The shot makes the room appear as if it’s divided into halves. You can tell by the posture of his silhouette that heās deflated. Opposite his line of sight is a wall with a green-tinted light casted through the window. Red on his sideābrooding, diminished, low; green on the otherābeautiful symbolism.
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Not one actor gave a weak performance.
Notta one.
They all shined in their roles.
I’m talking some serious acting-acting.
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Kaluuya studied.
The man was in his bag š§³ š§³ š§³, bruv.
Iām talking there were definitely moments I forget I was watching a narrative feature film. With actors.
Absolutely stunning.
He sounded just like Fred Hampton.
His transformation serves as a reminder that he is one of the best actors in the business.
It is just an undeniable fact.
#isaidwhatisaid
Dominique Fishbackās performance was something of beauty. Her portrayal of activist Deborah Johnson, Fred Hamptonās girlfriend, felt familiar and sincere. I felt I could empathize with the emotional stress she conveyed. I felt she communicated Johnson’s fear through the screen, especially during the final act of the film. Fishback has been an artist to watch because sheās had a great spectrum of roles during a short period of time, and always plays those roles thoroughly and beautifully. I knew when I first saw her on āThe Deuceā that sheād be one of the good ones. I gotta give it to herāshe did her thang.
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LaKeith Stanfield.
I justā
Like, the man has been W O R K I N G, bruh.
No role like the other.
Iām convinced heās from outer space. Or just a chameleon.
Iām waiting to not be surprised by what he can do.Ā He’s so sharp!
Stanfield playing Bill OāNeal made me dislike him personallyāso he did his job.
I can’t wait to see what he does next.
The ensemble cast.
The ensemble cast.
The f*cking ensemble cast!!!
Daniel Kaluuya.
LaKeith Stanfield.
Dominque Fishback.
Ok, then let’s sprinkle in…
Algee Smith. šš¾ š§
Darrell Britt-Gibson. šš¾ š§
Jermaine Fowler. šš¾ š§
Ashton Sanders. šš¾ š§
Jesse Plemons. šš¾ š§
Martin Sheen. šš¾ š§
No Ls. All wins over hurrr. š š š
Also, (SPOILER ALERT) we just gonā keep on with the Daniel Kaluuya, Lil Rel Howery, and LaKeith Stanfield three-piece special, huh?Ā š©š š¤£Ā Get Out (2017) (all three), The Photograph (2020) (Howery + Stanfield), now this?? Not mad at it!
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The score was evocative, and a perfect example of complementing the histrionics of pivotal scenes to create an immersive, almost haunting, experience. There was a scene in the final act that chronicled OāNeal pondering his role in the demise of Hampton. He’s on the cusp of making a crucial decision.
Then the horns crescendo out of nowhere.
Bruhā
I was shooketh. š š
Cannot stop thinking about that moment.
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The hue of the film was a standout too.
So like, when (some) American filmmakers want to emphasize that the setting is in another country, depending on the continent, theyāll artificially color the film in a yellowish hue.šš Itās a problematic and an oddly pervasive creative choice.
In āJudas and the Black Messiah,ā however, even when scenes took place during the daytime, I noticed that the hue always felt like an overcastārarely showing a fully sunny day. And I wondered if that was symbolic of the screenplay’s aimāa consistent, eerie, shadowy presence following the movement wherever they traveled. š¤·š¾āāļøš¤·š¾āāļøš¤·š¾āāļø
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The costume department really nailed it, so much so that it was almost an afterthought!
“Judas and the Black Messiah” wasnāt a period drama where the flamboyant fashions of the late-1960s meant something to the charactersā personalities or to the aim of the film. But the costuming did emphasize the idea that singular pieces of an ensemble, like an accessory, were staples to identifying members of certain organizations during that era.
The Black Panther Party members in the film wore a similar dark, earth-toned palette with the iconic Black berets over their natural, picked-out afros.
The Crowns, another Black organization in Chicago at that time, donned green berets.
All this to say, there is something to the collective identity of a movement when folks can be visually identified as members of a particular organization regardless of where you stood on the political and social ideological spectrum, ya dig?
Red MAGA hats? Ya dig.
Klansman hoods?
You dig it… āšæ š
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As stimulating as this film was artistically, I couldnāt help but think about the people weāve lost to police violence. Yes, the filmāthe artāwas captivating. And the performances, lighting, cinematography, and all the other elements I highlighted were ill š„š„, but honestly this film made me fucking angry.
It was a brutal viewing.
As I watched, I wondered what Fred and Huey wouldāve thought about whatās been happening in the States today. What they would think of the Roarinā 2020sā social and civil rights movements? What are the similarities and differences compared to what they endured and how they organized?
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While this film is focused primarily on O’Neal’s story as an informant, I think it did a great job in highlighting Fred as an efficient community organizer. He was working to bring together poor White people, other Black organizations in Chicago (the Crowns), Puerto Rican/Latino groups (the Young Lords) and others to protest the brutality of the Chicago police department.
Even while he was incarcerated, he found ways to organize.
I was shaken up, bruh. Holding back tears for most of this film.
STRESSED.
Trying to really see the beauty of this film around its visceral, palpable narrative.
The idea that this piece of art is too fucking familiar for Black people in this nation is the problem.
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While I have you, according to the Mapping Police Violence:
- In 2020, 1,127 people were killed by police in the United States.
- More than a quarter (28%) of those deaths were Black people, despite Black folks making up 13% of the U.S. population.
- Black folks are three times more likely to be killed by the police than White people.
- Black people are 1.3x more likely to be UNARMED when killed by police when compared to White people.
- From 2013-2020, in Chicago, police killed Black people at a rate 22 times the rate of White people per population.
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Whatās really changed?
(Thatās rhetorical. I donāt need an answer. I know enough to knowā¦)
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With that saidā¦
Rest in Power to Breonna Taylorā¦
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And George Floydā¦
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And Tony McDadeā¦
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And Alton Sterling…
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And Atatiana Jeffersonā¦
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And Elijah McClainā¦
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And Eric Garnerā¦
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And Terence Crutcherā¦
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And Sandra Blandā¦
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And to the too many others weāve lost.
They deserved better.
And we have work to do.