Debut indie film captures moment
Directorwriter Menelek Lumumba’s lowbudget indie film “1 Angry Black Man” was made in 2018, but its release in the current climate is an amazing bit of cultural synchronicity, almost as if it were cranked out last weekend as the image of George Floyd’s death at the knee of Minneapolis police Officer Derek Chauvin flashed across the globe.
But “1 Angry Black Man” is a more thoughtful and intellectual exercise than its prosaic and incendiary title at first suggests, though the issues it attempts to juggle — the demonization of young black men in white spaces, free speech, systemic racism, the blind spots of earnest white liberals, the dangers of stereotyping all conservatives as racists — are at the heart of many of today’s thorniest topics and loudest arguments.
Mike (Keith Stone, making his film debut) is a black senior at a largely white, small liberal arts college in Maine. With his closecropped haircut, fashionable tortoiseshell glasses and penchant for pullovers, he seems to be the walking embodiment of the Talented Tenth, the name popularized by W.E.B. DuBois in the early 20th century for black intellectuals and cultural leaders.
Yet, as the film opens, he’s being interrogated by the local police for a suspected sexual assault that he denies. He’s ultimately let go, but he carries the scars of humiliation with him into his black literature class, where — akin to the jury room in “12 Angry Men” — the bulk of the film takes place. (The movie’s title now makes more sense.)
That’s where we meet his classmates: Dominican friend Eddie (Ramon Nuñez Jr.); black girlfriend Kendra (Isi LabordeEdozien); white friend and Trumpvoter bro Kyle (William W. Wallace); queer Latina Michelle (Dahiana Castro); older white mom Ellen (Elizabeth Saunders), who has a mixedrace son; white feminists Rachel (Danicah Waldo) and Maggie (Amanda Jane Stern); white guys Jimmy (Mike Taylor) and Lucas (Richie Dupkin); and South Asian immigrant Tushar (Arush Dayal). Running the class with a firm hand is the professor, Carla (Daphne Danielle), who is black.
The discussion starts with the subjects at hand — authors James Baldwin, Zora Neale Hurston and August Wilson — but quickly moves into other, more personal issues, ranging from family violence to whom they voted for in 2016. While this format could easily collapse into preachiness and heavyhandedness, and it sometimes does, Lumumba’s does his best to create characters with some depth.
Take the case of Kyle. It would have been easy to make him just a loudmouth punching bag, but he’s actually someone who can be moved by the words of Wilson and Hurston while at the same time attempting to justify supporting Obama and then voting for Trump. The same is true for Mike, also a feast of contradictions. Anger is just one of his many motivations.
Though this is Lumumba’s debut film, it should be noted he worked with director of photography Hans Charles (Ava DuVernay’s “13th” documentary) as cinematographer and producer. And it’s wonderful to hear the reading aloud of the words of the authors discussed.
Unfortunately, Lumumba’s doesn’t seem to know where to take all of this; the ending isn’t particularly satisfying. But his valiant effort makes for an intriguing addition to the cultural conversation.