Face to Face With The Man Who Sold The World aka "Judas and the Black Messiah" (2021)
This film shows us a movement with the potential to reshape the world, and the man who sold it for pennies.
—Spoilers Follow—
As we enter the world of Judas and the Black Messiah, Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya) is at the end of his twenty-one years of life. I must confess that my thoughts on this film are deeply biased due to my great admiration for Chairman Fred. He is an inspirational figure, a man whose discipline, intelligence, ideological grounding, and effectiveness cannot be understated.
I never seriously entertained the idea of a major motion picture giving Fred Hampton and The Black Panther Party their due. My spirits lifted when I realized that Judas and the Black Messiah would be co-produced by the same guy who put up money for Boots Riley’s superb left-wing comedy Sorry To Bother You (2018), but still, I was skeptical. I expected that it would be a basically entertaining betrayal narrative that otherwise whitewashed the Panthers' radical politics, which emphasized interracial solidarity among working-class people in opposition to the ruling elites.
I’m happy to report that I was dead wrong.
Not since Spike Lee’s Malcolm X (1992) have I seen such an honest and caring depiction of a truly radical figure. Lee’s film is a different beast, of course, being a sweeping biopic that (somehow) manages to portray its subject from birth to death. We see his origins as a coke-sniffing hustler, his rise to prominence in the Nation of Islam and proud public promotion of Black Nationalism/Separatism, his rejection of that ideology in favor of interracial solidarity among working-class people in opposition to the ruling elites (does that remind you of another sentence you just read?), and eventual assassination/martyrdom. There is a definitive character arc for Malcolm.
Wisely, director Shaka King sets his sights on the final stretch of Hampton’s life. It was then that The Black Panther Party was at its most effective and constructive. Racial divides come crashing down when Hampton makes his pitch to a white radical organization known as the Young Patriots, a Confederate Flag looming behind him, quizzing them on why they pay taxes just to have their kids sent to bad schools and get hassled by cops, whether their “culture” matters when their White community is falling apart just like the Panthers community is. Unification with the Patriots, the Latino Young Lords, and rival Black organizations create a Rainbow Coalition based on class solidarity, not ethnic allegiance, drawing a line in the sand between the economic oppressors and the oppressed.
To set the film in this period works so well because an efficient and constructive Fred Hampton is not just a guy who runs a grassroots charity organization. Yeah, the free breakfasts and medical clinics do a lot of good, but as Fred puts it, “our job as the Black Panther Party is to heighten the contradictions.” Which is to say, in the words of Shaka King in an interview with GQ after he is asked whether the BPP threatening white supremacy is what primarily scared the FBI:
I actually think what scared Hoover the most was the fact they were feeding kids. I think that really scared the shit out of him, because he was like, "They're going to win if they do that." That and the fact that they were building medical centers and shit, because then he'd be like, "Well, if they're doing this, people are going to realize that we're not doing anything for them."
When the Panthers work with the Lords, Patriots, etc., to form the Rainbow Coalition, they can expand their programs and spread their ideology, which heightens the contradictions even further. If your material conditions are terrible and the Government does nothing to help while the Panthers feed your kids, why would you support Nixon over Hampton?
FBI head and vanguard of the oppressive status-quo, J. Edgar Hoover (Martin Sheen), declares that “our counter-intelligence program must prevent the rise of a Black Messiah.” Their solution: Bill O’Neill (Lakeith Stanfield). Portrayed here as a common thief with little to no feelings about radical racial politics, he is a perfect lump of clay for both FBI agent Roy Mitchell (Jesse Plemons) and Hampton. He is molded into an informant through Mitchell’s threats of imprisonment, molded into a Black Panther through the organization’s rigorous ideological education requirements, and molded into a true Judas when those thirty pieces of silver (aka ownership of a gas station) are dangled in front of him.
Note: Check out the following shot for an example of the excellent flourishes Shaka King adds to the film.
You see, this is a film about institutions. The Black Panther Party/Rainbow Coalition is a new institution that seeks to replace the old institution, the US Government, and Capitalism. In fear of The New, The Old uses every its every tool to prevent destruction and replacement. Fear of imprisonment drives Bill O’Neill until capitalism takes over and promises financial reward for his ultimate betrayal. Understanding the hold these existing institutions place on his community and soul drives Fred Hampton in the opposite direction. It also moves him to form The Rainbow Coalition in a strictly institutional sense. An institution seeking self-determination vs. an institution built to hold you in your pre-determined place. This film answers the question of what happens when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force: slow down the movement by killing its hero.
It would be a disservice to the writers, director, and actors, who all bring their absolute A-Game here, if I were to leave my thoughts on the film at simply a basic observation of an institutional power struggle. Daniel Kaluuya gives his best performance yet as Fred Hampton (no small feat considering the streak he’s been on!), impeccably capturing the charisma and humor one can hear in any number of his real-life speeches. Supremely confident, informal, and off-the-cuff to a degree, yet well-worded and concise. You really do come to think he could “sell salt to a slug”. Dominique Fishback, previously unfamiliar to me, is given wonderful material as Deborah Johnson. A lesser film would have relegated her to a “love interest” side-story, but in Judas she commands every scene she’s in. Fearlessly criticizing and praising Fred, we see she is someone fiercely committed to the cause and also his equal. A key scene has her walk in on him listening to a Malcolm X speech, matching the cadence, learning, sharpening his own oratory abilities. He is here established as a student and a teacher, and also a sensitive man. Their chemistry is immediate; she disarms him in a moment of understated intimacy which brings the legend back down to a shy young man. I’ve always felt that the most amazing moments of acting come from using the eyes, and she is able to as much in a look as Fred does in an entire speech.
Stanfield plays Bill O’Neill in much the same way. His eyes are that of a kicked dog at times, especially when confronted by Agent Mitchell, but he summons up ferocity in those same eyes when he needs to play a part. We know he is a liar, a thief, a coward, and a traitor, but we are given no real backstory. His fear of prison is understandable and underlined when Hampton gets locked up, and so is his fear of death at the hands of the Panthers or the Police. His situation is impossible; even though he is rewarded for his hand in Hampton’s killing he trembles while holding the envelope. This man who seemingly has no values beyond self-preservation, who we see howling in victory after a class-act performance furiously declaring that there’s a rat in the Party, who revels in his temporary position of privilege while dining with Mitchell, realizes finally that he has crossed his moral threshold. Maybe he didn’t even know he had one up until that point.
Undoubtedly the best movie of 2021, Judas and the Black Messiah is a must-watch. I don’t generally do the whole Siskel & Ebert “consumer reports” type of thing, but I’ve also never written about a brand-new picture. I also rarely feel such an intense emotional reaction and sense of urgency from a new movie, so I’m compelled to recommend it as highly as possible.
STRAY NOTES AND OBSERVATIONS:
Director Shaka King has only one other feature film to his name, the 2013 stoner comedy Newlyweeds, yet Judas moves with the supreme confidence of a veteran filmmaker. I can’t wait to see what he has in store for us next.
King co-wrote the screenplay with Will Berson, whose IMDB page is a list of minor but consistent writing/crew gigs for various television comedies, based on a story written by the pair alongside Kenny and Keith Lucas. They are apparently an identical-twin comedy duo. I don’t know what to make of the fact that this movie was made almost entirely by comedy writers/directors, but I do find it interesting.
As noted in the GQ interview I referenced, Fred Hampton Jr. was on set for the entirety of the shoot and his mother Akua Njeri (Deborah Johnson in the film) was a consultant.
Quelle Chris and Chris Keys are credited as co-producers of the score. This is awesome to me because they make some of the best music out today and are hugely underrated. Listen to “Obamacare” from their 2019 album Guns.
Director Ryan Coogler heavily helped produce and promote the film. While undoubtedly a major talent, his Black Panther (2018) is an ironically counter-revolutionary film that seemed to applaud CIA intervention in foreign countries. Perhaps I’m taking a Marvel movie too seriously, but the fact that he financed a project so incredibly politically distant from his most successful effort is a point of interest to me. I could write a whole post on my issues with Black Panther, but that would require a rewatch on my part and I just don’t know if I’m up to the task.