The issue of how American society paints black people as being pathological, as trouble waiting to happen, has been at the forefront for nearly a decade now. Just moments after a Florida jury set George Zimmerman free in the summer of 2013, the imbalance of the American justice system came under the microscope of many and the white hot spotlight has yet to pully away from Lady Justice. Hollywood soon followed suit in exploring this debate over monstrosity, whether people and their behaviors are to blame or the system itself, with a number of films depicting race in America. Director Anthony Mandler leads a star studded cast through another story that attempts to provide its own spin on the oldest question in our nation.
Monster is narrated by Steve Harmon (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) a 17-year-old aspiring filmmaker whose world comes crashing down when he’s charged with felony murder after a robbery committed by his friend from the neighborhood William King (Rakim “A$AP Rocky” Mayers). As his parents, played by Jeffrey Wright and Jennifer Hudson, support him court, Steve soon faces a complex legal battle that could leave him spending the rest of his life in prison.
Monster seeks to dramatize the disparities that are present in the American justice system, our society’s prejudice against Black American youth and their framing as “monsters” while asking about the effect that this all has on young black men in particular and, more importantly, just who America’s monsters truly are. The majority of this debate plays out in a New York City courtroom with Assistant District Attorney Anthony Petrocelli (Paul Ben-Victor) making the case that Steve is a monster for his callous, vicious act of participation in the robbery while his public defender Katherine O’Brien (Jennifer Ehle) makes the case that his arrest and prosecution is the true act of barbarism. On the surface, it’s a trial regarding Steve and his co-defendant’s guilt but in the meta, it is a trial debating just who the monster in America’s grand scheme is; those black males who routinely find themselves on trial for lives or the system that seeks them out. It plays out as a sort of Trial of Socrates where the implications and subtext of the trial is more of an examination and indictment of society at large, of its commitment to justice, fairness, freedom, and all the supposed trappings of American life. In this regard, Steve is an avatar for the black people as a whole and the way in which they are written off or stripped of all individuality and instead grouped together as one single barrel of rotten apples, destined for degeneracy and failure.
The premise and aim of Monster is clear, but its execution leans more melodramatic than poignant. America’s mistreatment of the progeny of its original sin, its blanket judgement of all black people as monolith, are topics that have been explored in film for decades now, so any return to the well has to be engaging or compelling enough to pull audiences into a story that they’ve heard many times before. Monster ultimately comes across as a generic story about the system and perils of black American youth. The cast is loaded with star both established and rising from quick cameos of Jharrel Jerome and John David Washington to veteran character actors like Ben-Victor, Wright, and Tim Blake Nelson to its centerpiece in Harrison Jr., but their acting talents are unable to overcome a rote narrative. Harrison Jr., a young star in the making steadily rising in the industry, is unable to work his magic with the material provided him, although he still has a moment where his incredible acting skill peeks through in an emotional meeting with O’Brien during his trial where he ponders the outcome of his trial. Despite this one scene, moments of grandeur are fleeting in the film that mostly feels like it’s going through the motions, although never outright boring. A cast this great would usually be cause for excitement, but Monster ends up being too familiar although well intended.
Image: Netflix
