Review:
"Detroit"
![]() Release Date: Aug. 4, 2017
Rating: R Running Time: 143 minutes Joking or not, the President of the United States’ apparent encouragement of the use of police brutality serves to amplify the horrifying events that occur in Detroit, director Kathryn Bigelow’s disturbing reenactment of cops run amok during the city’s 1967 12th Street Riot. While the riot is Detroit’s entry point, Bigelow gradually shifts her attention to the infamous Algiers Motel incident, which resulted in the deaths of three black men. Three white Detroit policemen and a black security guard went to trial on various charges related to the incident but were found not guilty. Bigelow and her Hurt Locker and Zero Dark Thirty screenwriter Mark Boal operate under the assumption that the policemen—played by Will Poulter, Jack Reynor and Ben O’Toole—unjustly killed the men as part of their hunt for a suspected sniper they believe fired on law enforcement officers from the motel. John Boyega’s security guard is positioned as more of a witness than an active participant, although Detroit questions how much more he could have done to prevent what happened that fateful evening. Bigelow opens Detroit with a raid of an unlicensed after-hours bar that sparks the five-day riot and quickly turns the city into a war zone. The anger felt within the black community is palpable and justified, which Bigelow keenly contrasts against a “While Rome Burns” moment involving a prominently white audience enjoying a Motown showcase at a nearby music hall. She then introduces Poulter, Reynor and O’Toole as three racist cops who are looking for a reason to administer a beating to the first black person they see committing an alleged crime. One even kills a looter under questionable circumstances but is allowed back on the streets. Later, Poulter, Reynor and O’Toole respond to a possible incident of sniper fire from a room at the Algiers Motel, which is where Bigelow’s focus remains. After killing one black man in “self-defense,” the cops question the remaining nine black men and the two white women they find in the motel in an attempt to find the sniper. What follows next is an hour or more of stomach-churning physical and psychological torture that results in unnecessary beatings and two additional unjustified deaths. Bigelow doesn’t let up for a minute. She’s relentless in her bid to place us in the motel and make us witness to a shameless incident of police brutality that is driven by hate and prejudice. As much vitriol is directed by the cops at the two white woman because they associate with the black men in the motel. Poulter is the ringleader. With a baby face that belies the anger that fuels his white rage, Poulter orchestrates the proceedings within the motel with a firm hand and an agenda that goes beyond his mandate to serve and to protect. Reynor and O’Toole blindly follow Poulter’s lead—with disastrous implications--while Boyega stands by passively. To be fair to Boyega’s security guard, he is stuck between a rock and a hard place. By defying the cops, the security guard runs the risk of becoming another victim. By remaining silent, the security guard knows he’s allowing a bad situation to further get out of hand. Boyega articulates his security guard’s dilemma through quietly controlled looks and gestures of concern. Director Kathryn Bigelow and screenwriter Mark Boal do a so-so job of getting into the heads of the black men held hostage by the cops. They quickly establish several members of a singing group as young men who are more concerned with advancing their careers than involving themselves in the conflict that plays out on their doorsteps. One of the singers, played by Algee Smith, undergoes a startling transformation during his ordeal that opens his eyes to the social injustice that minorities of all ages faced on a daily basis during the civil rights era. By the end of Detroit, Smith displays a painfulness that can never be erased. However, several of the other black men—most notably Anthony Mackie’s Vietnam veteran—do not receive the same opportunity to reveal themselves to be more than victims of prejudice and police brutality. Still, this does not diminish the impact of every blow that they endure during their harrowing ordeal. Bigelow refuses to compromise when it comes to the torture inflicted on the black men and the white women by cops who happily abuse their authority in the name of white superiority. It brings to mind the current epidemic of unjustified police shootings of black people that seemingly goes unpunished by the legal system. It draws attention to the emboldinging of white nationalists by a president who won his election in part by generating fear of minorities. It makes us wonder why a president would endorse police brutality. The Algiers Motel incident may have occurred in 1967 but Detroit reminds us that systemic racism remains a regrettable part of the American experience for too many minorities. Robert Sims Aired: Aug. 3, 2017 Web site: http://detroit.movie |
|