Harris passes test for Bond spin-off
Black and Blue 15 cert, 108 min
★★★★★
Dir Deon Taylor
Starring Naomie Harris, Tyrese Gibson, Frank Grillo, Reid Scott, Mike Colter, Beau Knapp
The cop thriller Black and Blue is just the ticket for Naomie Harris, if she wants to prove she can shoulder a suspenseful action flick by looking sharp, acting credibly nervy, and keeping us squarely on her side. The timing is right, too. There’s talk of a Moneypenny spin-off from the Bond series – Barry Jenkins, who directed Harris to an Oscar nomination in Moonlight, is game for doing it. In truth, Harris is way better in Black and Blue than she has been to date as a mere sidekick in the world of 007.
This New Orleans-set policier – from little-known writer Peter A Dowling, and director Deon Taylor – comes from unprepossessing sources. It has a tricky line to walk, too, with a rookie cop called Alicia (Harris) as its exmilitary heroine, who becomes witness to the worst her department has to offer. In the first scene, she is jogging through the streets in a hoodie, and gets pulled over by racist cops, who do not know her yet, for looking suspicious in an upscale neighbourhood.
Harris plays the indignation powerfully, keeping it on a low simmer. Before long, however, she is more dangerously embroiled. Taking over her partner’s night shift on patrol, she sees narc officers execute a drug dealer point-blank, a killing recorded on her body-mounted camera. The thrust of the rest is simple: the culprits, including a hatefully remorseless Frank Grillo and Beau Knapp, need the camera, and they want her dead. She has nowhere to turn: even Reid Scott’s sympathetic wingman is playing both sides.
The script is a mixed bag – when the dialogue’s reaching for purpose, there’s some “be the change” stuff that sticks out like a sore thumb – but the structure is there with a bullet. It is surprisingly ambitious storytelling. Taylor has a tough job on his hands juggling the various players: cops across the whole corruption spectrum; a VIP kingpin called Darius (Mike Colter); his surviving employees; and some ghetto frenemies Alicia knew before she served in Kandahar.
The so-so editing cannot always keep pace, but the guts of the story seethe away and keep you glued.
Tyrese Gibson puts in a decent, unvain showing as a deadbeat guy Alicia grew up with, the only man here who is neither cop nor criminal, and the only one willing to take her in. Subject to a demeaning body search in the convenience store where he works, he sheds an unmanly tear or two.
Black and Blue falters when it wants to go wide and editorialise, in haste, about everything wrong with American law enforcement. But it has a heroine well-placed to make this stand, and a potent performance from Harris, who conveys her character’s shock well: Alicia has seen a lot in military service, but never felt so trapped behind enemy lines as she does in her own police department. She milks the role’s desperation and comes out fighting. With a star turn as punchy as this, she will be dispensing with Bond’s help in no time.