http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/detroit-2017 by Angelica Jade Bastien
Watching "Detroit," the latest film directed by Kathryn Bigelow and penned by Mark Boal, I hit a breaking point I didnt realize I had. I was disturbed so deeply by what I witnessed that I left the theater in tears.
It wasnt the relentless violence inflicted upon black bodies or the fiery devastation of the riots ripping apart Detroit but the emptiness behind these moments that got under my skin. Watching Detroit I realized that Im not interested in white perceptions of black pain. White filmmakers, of course, have every right to make stories that highlight the real and imagined histories of racism and police brutality that pointedly affect Black America. There are, of course, a litany of films by white filmmakers about subject matter unique to the black experience that I find movingThe Color Purple comes to mind. But Steven Spielbergs film was based on a novel by Alice Walker and produced by Quincy Jones. Detroit was directed, written, produced, shot, and edited by white creatives who do not understand the weight of the images they hone in on with an unflinching gaze.
Detroit is ultimately a confused film that has an ugliness reflected in its visual craft and narrative. Bigelow is adept at making the sharp crack of an officers gun against a black mans face feel impactful but doesnt understand the meaning of the emotional scars left behind or how they echo through American history. Detroit is a hollow spectacle, displaying rank racism and countless deaths that has nothing to say about race, the justice system, police brutality, or the city that gives it its title.
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While John Boyega has been top-billed for his performance as Melvin Dismukes, a security guard who stumbles into aiding the blatantly racist cops and armed forces that realize the civil rights violations happening but do nothing to stop it, hes too passive a character to leave much of an impression. In standing by his position as an authority figure and helping these white cops, Melvin becomes complicit in their horror. Boyega is a charismatic actor, but he gives a flat performance, although its the script thats more of a problem. Mark Boal skirts around the issue of Melvins complicity, leaving an interesting story on the table. The standout from the cast proves to be Algee Smith, who grants his character a soulfulness and yearning that grows more heartbreaking as the film continues, but even his performance is often undercut by directorial choices.
There are plenty of examples of racism in the film, but it's William Poulters performance as Philip Krauss, a cop who proves to be a ringleader to the horrors that occur at the Algiers Motel, thats the most sickening. Krauss is quick to violence, virulently racist, and immensely cunning. He delights in beating the black men who realize hes abusing his power but can do nothing to stop him even as dead bodies pile up. Bigelow doesnt flinch from depicting Krauss horror, but she also doesnt thoroughly indict him or the systems that allow men like him to survive.
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When I left the theater, I overheard a black filmgoer say repeatedly, This is still happening. This is still happening. I only looked at him briefly, but in his voice there was a weariness and disappointment I felt myself. Given how nothing has really changed in America for black folks, Detroit had the potential to be a valuable, even powerful, piece of art that could speak truth to power. But it lacks the authenticity necessary to become that. Bigelow and Boal dont shy away from showing how loathsome Philip and his cohorts are. But they dont go so far to indict them or grant enough context to their actions. There are also brief, disconcerting moments that present some white cops in a great light. Ultimately, I was left wondering who is this film really for? The filmmakers arent skilled enough to understand the particulars of blackness or bring the city of Detroit to life as another character. What is the value of depicting such nauseating violence if you have nothing to say about how that violence comes to pass or what it says about a country that has yet to reckon with the racism that continues to fester within its very soul?
Detroit is presented as a valuable portrait of a bloody, violent, and important moment of American history. The epilogue detailing what happened next for everyone involved over pictures of the real-life versions of the characters and story gestures at vital commentary about racism that the filmmakers never get a handle on. Bigelow, Boal, and their collaborators are unable to meaningfully parallel this event to the present-day happenings they mirror. Watching Detroit, I didnt see a period drama, but a horror film. The horror of white filmmakers taking on black history and the violence perpetuated upon black bodies with an unwavering eye yet nothing to say.
