At the beginning of the fact-based drama “Judah and the Black Messiah, “An FBI informer named Bill O’Neill (Lakith Stanfield) sits in front of a camera, wearing a slate gray suit and matching tie. He is being interviewed for the documentary series” Eyes on the Prize II “, and one The overlooked questioner asks, “Looking at your activities in the late ’60s, early’ 70s, you would tell your son about what you did back then?” He then went on to lead Black Panther leader Fred Hampton The police murdered. O’Neill’s expression is guarded; his eyes flicker to the right and his lips run so slightly, but no word comes out.
The film thus begins with an open question: How does O’Neill account for his actions?
This is a question that the film examines but does not really answer; “Judas” does not even indicate that it has anything to do with it. Despite the great performance and otherwise entertaining narrative, the story has one flaw: the moral ambiguity of O’Neill’s character fails to give us any true sense of the personal stakes involved, and hinders the film’s ability to connect with current politics. is. In this way, “Judas” recounts a more recent biographical drama about an undercover agent who punishes in politics: Spy Lee’s “BlacKkKlansman, From 2018.
In that film, a black detective named Ron Stallworth (John David Washington) teamed up with a white Jewish officer (Adam Driver) to infiltrate a local Ku Klux Klan chapter in 1970s Colorado. When Ron goes undercover at a Black Panthers rally, he is joined by a student named Patrice, who eventually disgusts him, thinking that he is a police officer. “Ron Stallworth, are you for the revolution and the liberation of black people?” Patrice asks, but Ron says, “I’m an undercover detective with the Colorado Springs Police. That’s my job, that’s the truth.”
But this is not just a deflection from Ron’s side; It is also a deflection by the film. Although Ron insists that he still cares about the black community, Patrice has a point. As a black police officer, how complex is he with the system? His politics didn’t work, and Washington’s acting is too wooden to tell what Ron fanatics think of the Panthers.
At the rally he watches intently, but it is unclear whether his gaze reflects his attraction to Patrice, a genuine interest in politics or a shallow appreciation for the vengeance of the proceedings, the energy and energy of the contestants. There is a sense that both Ron and the film see the Panthers and the Klan as having a similar political climax, which is at the opposite end of the spectrum, and that neither is religious or dominant – although the film is more confident and lucid Shut up from telling this with. .
As a director, known for taking risks, Spike Lee is surprisingly liberal when it comes to the politics of this film, never allowing his protagonist to cross over in favor of revolution. In an effort to remain faithful to the traditional police-film genre, “BlacKkKlansman” accepts the belief that not all police are rotten. Ron believes in the system; He has friends, and they are fighting a group of violent white supremacists, so we too invest ourselves in these good cops and fight them for justice. But of course, by the end, when Ron’s superior asks him to drop the KKK case, Ron is surprised to learn that the institution he is a part of is fundamentally flawed.
While “BlacKkKlansman” maintains the belief that the system can thank some good cops, “Judas” openly acknowledges that the system is broken and explicitly condemns the Panthers for promoting or condemning it. Is closer to sympathy.
“Judas” distinguishes not only his militant actions but also his community initiatives, by giving the Panthers a subtle look. And like many characters, the film is captivated by the charisma of its black messiah, Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluia), Who won the Golden Globe on Sunday for his performance. He brings his usual intensity to the role; It’s like watching a game of chicken between him and the camera, so steadfast is his gaze and gets his attention when he turns his head to the side like a challenge.
Hampton is not the real focus of the film; Shaka King’s direction and Kaluya’s performance gives them so much depth and appeal that they steal the spotlight. But the film begins and ends with Bill O’Neill. He is our eyes, his path is what leads us to Hampton – he should be the real focus of the film. And despite the propulsive force behind the film’s tension, his ambivalence and internal conflict about betraying the Heritage lacks clear motivation.
Bill dances to the point of his intentions and politics, whether he is working for the FBI or the Panthers. The agent to whom he reports to Roy Mitchell (Jessie Pelmons), is assigned to Bill by Rev. Drs. Dr. Martin explains his stand on the murders of Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X, but Bill is surrounded by questions, saying that he never thought about them. Whether it is in earnest or lying to be safe is unclear. In a later scene, Mitchell, an undercover, observes Bill at a rally and concludes that this operative must actually be invested in the movement – either he or she is a terrible actor.
And there is also part of the problem – that bill Does It seems to be an actor worthy of an Academy Award, and Stanfield, who is such Careful, cerebral actor, Delivers a performance that is almost too perfect. With just a peek or a subtle movement of his mouth, he immediately reveals a switch of roles, making us yet again struggle that despite devotion to Bill Panthers, it’s all a performance, a Which not only removes the confusion Michelle Mitchell and Fred but us as well.
It is possible that we see the bill as an opportunist, so politics is irrelevant. But for a film so cleverly political, that seems unlikely.
It is strange that these plays opted for a non-bizarre protagonist because both clearly want to connect with the real world – with history and modern day events. “BlacKkKlansman” includes the fatal Charlottesville’s Wright Wright rally a year before the film’s release, and the epilogue to “Judas” includes details about Hampton’s partner and son and his continuity with the Panthers, as well as the actual O Footage is also included. “From Neil”eyes on the prize“
Perhaps one reason for this is that politically outspoken (and liberal-leaning) films are reluctant to take a stand that includes real history, a fear that they portray real flesh-and-blood men they portray Huh. And perhaps it is symptomatic of a lack of imagination that despite their gestures towards the present, “Judas” and “Blackkalsman” do not dare to elaborate on Black radical politics or negotiate that these politics – or even There can also be ambition – it can mean in the context of the real-life climate in which the films were released.
Either way, the films underestimate the depth and audience awareness of their protagonist. In a debate between Patrice and Ron or at meetings between Bill and his FBI handlers, King and Lee discuss their respective opponents on radical activism versus the law enforcement system and negotiate their positions in the larger narrative of history Could force. Within that foot, but “Judas” and “Blackkalsman” move away, tails between their legs.
In the “Eyes on the Prize” footage, the real O’Neill sits in front of the camera, in that slate gray suit and tie, and the question we asked was the one we initially heard: “What would you tell your son about you?” Did it then? “There are pauses and eyes going to the right. His response, when it comes, it is indecent:” I don’t know what I would tell him other than the conflict I was in, this. The bottom line is. “He then states that” at least “he” had a point of view “, though he does not reveal what exactly that was.
O’Neill, who committed “Eyes on the Prize II” on the same day in 1990, is apt to be the film’s Judas. In the Bible, the end of the story of Judah is not clear. In one gospel he kept himself out of guilt for betraying Jesus. In the second there is no account of his crime, but he appears in an act of divine punishment. Did Judah betray the Messiah for those 30 pieces alone, or did he have other reasons? Did he later regret the action, and if so, was it for his role in the murder of another human being or for the more personal betrayal of his own beliefs, that he believed the man to be sincere Who was the Messiah?
O’Neill’s last words in the clip are, “I think I’ll let history speak for me.” This is why both O’Neill and these otherwise good films were wrong. History has no mouthpiece of its own; It can only speak through interpretations of those who tell stories of the past. And if the intention of those stories is to speak to our present as well, then they should speak with conviction. They have to take a step.