“Past is prologue”
In the midst of the tumultuous Detroit riots of 1967, reports of a sniper send Detroit PD, the Michigan State Police, and the National Guard to the Algiers Hotel in search of the shooter. After arriving, the Detroit police on the scene utilize questionable tactics to both find the shooter and assert their authority in the midst of the city’s chaos.
Detroit is an all-encompassing, unflinching look at American policing, its justice system, and race in the country overall. It is such a thorough examination of these issues that I believe we could look back on the film in the future as one of the century’s most important. Detroit takes us through police brutality and its problems, from its genesis to its end; from the behavior of the police themselves, to those observers who know the behavior is wrong and can stop it but choose to look the other way, to the justice system that is heavily stacked against those that suffer from being the targets of the ire of the police. In displaying these things, director Kathryn Bigelow does well to make these issues seem as current and ongoing as they are to those that peruse news in the United States. The dialogue used to excuse the behavior of the officers we see on screen (“We were just doing our jobs”) is still used today, as are the systemic protections such as all-white juries, both of which are on display in the film.
What makes Detroit stand out for me is not just the portrayal of the systemic and sociological problems of race, which are well done. But what sets the film apart and makes it special is how it delves into how these things affect the psyche of the minorities that are forced to accept this subpar treatment. This is mainly done through two of the more prominent characters in this ensemble cast, the first being Melvin Dismukes (John Boyega). In Dismukes we see a black man trying to do what society tells him are the right things to do, the things that will lead to respectability. He has a couple of good jobs, is polite to everyone around him (particularly white people) and is always trying to keep the peace during an era of tumult. Even as the sadism of the Detroit police officers present in the Algiers Motel becomes more evident, Dismukes still believes his assistance in handling their citizen hostages, his chastising them to just tell the officers what they want to know, will help make things right. In a particular moment of pressure, he even rationalizes their brutality to one of the hostages, saying they wouldn’t have killed someone for no reason. This kind of bargaining, not just with the hostage but with himself, is indicative of many black people in America desperate to go along to get along and make some sense of the discrimination they face.
The second examination of the psychological effects of police brutality is the PTSD experienced by victim Larry Reed (Algee Smith). When police brutality is examined, most of the attention is given to the incidents themselves and the handling of justice in the aftermath. What is less spoken about is the trauma suffered by survivors, both those that survive the incidents themselves and those family members left to pick up the pieces following the deaths of a family member. It is through Reed that we see how the pain and trauma of experiencing police brutality affects victims moving forward. Reed, a lead singer for what would become a legendary R&B group called The Dramatics, becomes a shell of himself following the tragic incident at the Algiers. Once an enthusiastic singer ready to hit the big time, Reed loses his lust for success and notoriety, hesitant to perform for whites after experiencing the sadism of the officers and the indifference of observing National Guardsmen and State Troopers. In searching for employment, Reed approaches a small neighborhood church in hopes of being hired as a choir director instead of pursuing a job at a club more suited to his immense talent. When asked why, Reed cites the presence of police at clubs, making the environment unsafe. The personality change, the loss of aspiration, and the paranoia is an intriguing look into the PTSD caused by experiencing both brutality and a justice system that doesn’t care about rectifying your injuries. In examining the salaciousness around these issues, what the victims have to deal with in the aftermath is too often overlooked and underexamined. Including it here sets the film apart from just being a look at an issue that we see unfold on our TV sets all too often in real life.
Detroit is an ensemble cast but the attention being spread among many actors does not prevent some of them from standing out on screen. Will Poulter is superb as the sadistic lead Detroit police officer Krauss that instigates and encourages the psychological torture and murders. Krauss is sure to be one of the more haunting and disturbing villains you will ever see on screen, really driving home the latent evil and sick thrill many of these rogue officers get from inflicting pain on minorities. Algee Smith impresses in his first major film role, showing both substantial acting chops and a singing ability that will make him a versatile actor. John Boyega’s sympathetic turn as Dismukes is another boost to his resume as a rising talent, his ascension in Hollywood now clear.
While Detroit is a difficult watch for many, I argue that any accurate, honest portrayal of race in America would be. The United States is not a country that has ever committed to having an open and honest discussion of its racial past and actively avoids having one. Anytime an attempt is made, people on all sides recoil. If you produce art about race and America and no recoils, you probably pulled your punches. Detroit does no such thing, accurately portraying the country’s problems in how it treats its black citizens, making it all the more powerful. Detroit’s fate is probably to be looked back upon by a generation in the future as a an underrated and overlooked time capsule, a sad reminder of how things used to be. While the generation in question ignores how little things have actually changed.
Image: Annapurna Pictures
