Review: Judas and the Black Messiah (2021)
Directed by Shaka King; screenplay by Shaka King and Will Berson; starring Daniel Kaluuya, Lakeith Stanfield and Jesse Plemons.
Just in time for the Oscars tonight comes Judas and the Black Messiah.
JATBM is a film about a war in which some of those involved are struggling to grapple with the precise nature of the conflict surrounding them. At first glance, it may appear to be a film along the lines of something such as The Assassination of Jesse James, a film in which cowardice is handled in a metaphysical kind of meditation, but JATBM is anything but. Similar themes may be shared, but JATBM is the more visceral experience and paints a world in which cowardice isn’t a kind of essential characteristic but the tragic fallout of oppression. Scenes are often wound taut in realistic, unmelodramatic set pieces and powerhouse performances drive the narrative from the foundation up.
Lakeith Stanfield plays the Judas of the title, Bill O’Neal, a man trapped in a deal with the devilish FBI to deliver information on the inner workings of the Chicago Black Panther Party in the late 1960s and more specifically, on the messianic figure of its chairman, Fred Hampton played by (the somewhat controversially) British talent Daniel Kaluuya with a charm that’s almost gravitational in its ability to draw you in. A simple premise, as laid out, the film really gives itself enough space to breathe fully and explore both the history it’s depicting, and more crucially, the men and women victimised therein.
And this is what really makes the film compelling beyond its politics, what makes it as tense and as tragic as it is. “Wild Bill” as he’s eventually dubbed, is painted in just as tragic tones as anyone here. We first see him donning a “Bogart hat” and a trench coat, playing the part of an FBI agent with the intention of confiscating a local’s keys as a cover to simply boost his ride. After his plan goes awry, though, he falls into the hands of agent Roy Mitchell. During their talks, Bill explains why he didn’t use a gun, but a badge in his attempted heist: a badge is easy to get, anyone can have one, but a badge is like “you’ve got the whole army behind you.” Roy, a man whose emblem Bill just described as more frightening to stare down than the barrel of a gun, dangles a jail sentence before him and suggests that if he wants to avoid it, he should turn to the side of the law.
Interestingly, Roy frequently appears quite unable to fully apprehend his relationship with Bill. Over and over, conversations between the two in centre around the fact that Bill is increasingly becoming enamoured with the man he’s been installed to undermine and Roy can’t let it go. Roy doesn’t struggle to keep Bill onside because he ultimately has the threat of the law behind his commands, but this isn’t enough for him, and he incessantly reminds Bill of the Panthers’ radicalism and extremism, hoping to sway his soul as well as his body.
This is what’s important to JATBM. The war for the soul and not just the body. As the title suggests, Kaluuyah’s Hampton is fully committed to his cause and has given it his body but his soul is what is still occasionally swayed, as is everyone’s. Many stumbling blocks for the cause and its members are their visceral reactions to the aggression of the police in many instances. But Hampton realises his fight isn’t just material and constantly cites “discipline” as a way to dissuade his companions from violence for purely vengeful reasons. Arguably, it is Hampton’s ability to transcend the violence that makes him the figure he is. Many set pieces are set up for this precise reason, that Hampton knows he can get more done without a gun – we’re always left wondering (those of us who didn’t know Hampton’s precise personal history) if this is the moment Hampton might be betrayed by a man with a gun.
Bill, on the other hand, is a man whose soul has been torn asunder by his fear for his body and his desire to fight for what he believes in.
Watched on 25th April 2021