Originally published in print March 2021.
In July, I wrote about several films that have raised my awareness of racial injustice. Cinema provides us with an alternate perspective and worldview, and for the duration of a film’s running time we see something very special beyond our own experience. Since I first wrote that piece last summer, I have seen several films that would make worthy additions to the original list. All were released in Ireland over the past year, which further emphasises the significance of increased representation in the industry. It is vital that this increase of diverse voices in cinema does not go unrecognised by audiences.
As I wrote in the last piece, I would encourage you to seek out films beyond the limitations of this list and recommended by those with far more research, experience and authority on the subject, such as Time’s “24 Essential Works of Black Cinema Recommended by Black Directors.” It may appear axiomatic to suggest, but the films listed here all specifically address racism, and it is therefore important to remember that there is significantly more to Black culture and the experiences of ethnic minority communities than oppression. There are also many worthy mentions, such as Rocks (Sarah Gavron, 2019), available to stream on Netflix, which I haven’t seen yet, so what I offer here is by no means a complete curation. This is simply a collection of films that continue to keep my eyes open to racial injustice, and that is always worth sharing to open more.
Les misérables (Ladj Ly, 2019)
My top film of 2020. Ly’s searing feature début follows three police officers in the Anti-Crime Brigade as they spend a day on the streets of the Parisian commune of Montfermeil. The film interrogates the culture of silence around police misconduct within the force, and the casual racism that is so often a warning sign for future tragedy.
Available to stream on Netflix.
White Riot (Rubika Shah, 2019)
This brilliant documentary charts the context that led to the Rock Against Racism movement forming in 1976. This is an eye-opening watch featuring shocking and troubling quotes from figures such as Eric Clapton and David Bowie, and paints a stark image of the racism prevalent in 1970s England. If you ever hear anyone tell you that England is not a racist country, here is some explicit archival evidence to the contrary.
Anthony (Terry McDonough, 2020)
Far too often, true-crime dramatisations focus on the perpetrators, leaving the victims a mere salacious detail to the overall story being presented. Anthony is a profoundly moving riposte to that, with emotionally devastating consequences. In Liverpool Park in July 2005, Anthony Walker was brutally murdered by two racist white men in an unprovoked attack. He was eighteen. The crime that cut his life tragically short is addressed in Anthony, but not until the very end. The majority of the film imagines the many things Anthony Walker would have been able to do with his life if it had not ended in 2005. We see the relationships he may have formed, the people he would have helped. As the film closes, you’ve seen what the world has lost.
Small Axe (Steve Mcqueen, 2020)
A new Steve McQueen film is an unmissable cinematic event in itself. In 2020, he provided us with five in a remarkable feat of creating a film anthology focusing on the real-life experiences of the West Indian community in London from the late 60s to early 80s. Lovers Rock is the only one I haven’t yet seen, but if it’s anything like the rest of the anthology, it’s essential viewing. McQueen allows his shots to linger on his characters: one of the ways in which he masterfully lets the emotional weight of a scene fully sink in. We see a tear slide down a cheek, and are given the time and space to engage with that character’s emotions. He is one of our greatest contemporary filmmakers.
Mangrove
Frank Crichlow (Shaun Parkes) is an honest man trying to run his restaurant (the titular Mangrove) and provide a place to call home to the West Indian community of Notting Hill. However, repeated harassment, violence and vandalism by the Met Police lead to a breaking point, forcing him and others to protest their treatment. What follows is the very public trial of the Mangrove Nine at the Old Bailey, and an historic ruling in the face of systemic modes of oppression. My fists were clenched, and I could feel my heart pumping out of my chest.
Red, White and Blue
Leroy Logan (John Boyega) is training to be a police officer in the Met to protect his community and change systematic racist attitudes from within. He faces immense hostility not only from his colleagues, but from his community, and his father, who is himself a victim of police brutality.
Alex Wheatle
This is the story of the formative years of award-winning writer Alex Wheatle (Sheyi Cole). After neglect, abuse, and alienation growing up in an all-white care home, Alex finally finds a sense of community and identity in Brixton. He is then sent to prison after the Brixton Uprising in 1981. The dangers there are not from fellow inmates – those who have been condemned by society as dangerous – but from the violent and bigoted prison system and supposed figures of order and justice. Alex finds solace in his cellmate who acts as a mentor figure and helps him to find a new, creative channel for his rage.
Education
12-year-old Kingsley (Kenyah Sandy) wants to be an astronaut. This dream is shattered as he is pulled into the headmaster’s office for being disruptive in class and told that he is being transferred to a special needs school. His parents are unaware of an unofficial segregation policy that prevents many Black children, such as Kingsley, from accessing the education they are entitled to. A group of West Indian women decide this is not good enough and help Kingsley to access the resources he needs in order to learn which his other schools had neglected.
His House (Remi Weekes, 2020)
After escaping from war-torn South Sudan, a refugee couple settle into a house in England whilst waiting to be granted asylum. Bol (Sope Dirisu) and Rial (Wunmi Mosaku) both struggle to adjust to their new lives, made all the harder by unwelcoming neighbours, and the trauma and loss that have followed them there.
Available to stream on Netflix.
Judas and the Black Messiah (Shaka King, 2021)
Bill O’Neal (LaKeith Stanfield) is given an ultimatum. Go to jail for five years, or inform on the Black Panther Party for the FBI. The film that follows is a damning portrayal of the FBI’s role in the assassination of Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya), and the active policy of prejudice led by J. Edgar Hoover (Martin Sheen). Kaluuya and Stanfield both give the performances of their career, and Shaka King is clearly a director to keep an eye on. I couldn’t look away. If there was ever a film to pay a premium price to watch at home during this pandemic, it’s this one.
All of the films are available to buy or rent On Demand unless specified.
