Whether grounded in true events or not, a good period drama will always have contemporary relevance, but for a story set half a century ago to resonate so powerfully today is frankly astonishing. While fifty years may have passed since the civil rights movement drew to a close, the echoes from its rallying cry can still be heard loud and clear.
It’s no coincidence then that the current state of the world – specifically America – and the shaky ground the liberties fought for back then now sit on has seen a significant spike in civil rights-era stories. Offering differing angles on the movement but underpinned by a common desire to root their themes in the here and now, the likes of One Night in Miami, Da 5 Bloods, MLK/FBI, and The Trial of the Chicago 7 have all recently appeared, presenting their own unique takes on events, while holding up a huge mirror to our current circumstances.
Of this recent burst of content, Judas and the Black Messiah offers perhaps the most forthright and damning message to date, presenting a glimpse into one of the most pivotal and, ultimately, tragic moments of the civil rights movement.
With the 1960s nearing its end and the civil rights movement in full swing, teenage petty criminal William O’Neal (Lakeith Stanfield) is arrested and coerced by the FBI into infiltrating the Illinois Black Panther Party and to keep tabs on their charismatic leader, Chairman Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya). A career thief, O’Neal initially revels in the dangers of his duplicitous role, but as Hampton’s influence grows, a battle wages for his soul, as the forces of good and evil pull him ever deeper into a hole he cannot escape.
For anyone to attain such significant power and influence under such sustained and overtly racist pressure would be a monumental achievement, yet Chairman Fred Hampton was clearly not cut from the same cloth as the rest of us mere mortals. The film’s title doesn’t lie – Fred Hampton really was a messiah-like figure, a once in a generation character and black leader, wielding the kind of influence and power that so often tragically puts a target on your back.
Even without the benefit of hindsight, it was clear that the odds were stacked against Hampton from the off, as the US government and the FBI conspired to systematically tear him down, yet the ultimate power of the man and his words have endured. Judas and the Black Messiah’s circumstances are enraging in the extreme, something that the film makes no bones about, portraying in all its ugliness, yet it ensures Fred Hampton’s words continue to reverberate long after he departs the screen.
Built on the back of solid biopic foundations, Judas and the Black Messiah takes a decidedly myopic view on a huge moment in time, boiling the monumental history of the Black Panthers, the civil rights movement, and the systemic racism of the era down into a focused story of one man striving for justice, and those subverting it to take him out. This focus hugely benefits the story being told, amplifying the narrative and the power of Fred Hampton’s character, while avoiding the usual biopic cliches.
While there are certainly occasions when Judas and the Black Messiah dabbles in the odd biopic trope, the film does well to avoid all-out cliché, unconcerned with overplaying Fred Hampton’s life story. The result is a short, sharp, and refreshingly brief glimpse at an almost mythical messiah-like figure that we’re magnetically drawn to, feeling his energy and his impact in a way that would’ve been lost if over-elaborated.
What helps this along is a unique approach that turns the narrative viewpoint on its head, switching from Fred Hampton himself to his own personal Judas, Bill O’Neal. While a great portion of the plot is of course dedicated to Hampton, it’s all done through O’Neal’s perspective, a tactic that’s as compelling as it is frustrating.
As we bear witness to O’Neal’s manipulation at the hands of the FBI and his subsequent infiltration of the Black Panthers, we’re offered an unexpected in on the Fred Hampton story through the eyes of those conspiring to take him down. It’s undoubtedly a smart approach, however, as incredible as Lakeith Stanfield is in the role, O’Neal is certainly the less interesting of the film’s two central figures, and while his inner conflicts play a key part in the story’s function, he never compels to quite the same degree as Hampton.
Moulded around a classic undercover cop narrative, it’s certainly fascinating to come at things through the eyes of the antagonist, as the energy of the story and the verve of Shaka King’s direction ensure that, despite feeling like an outsider to the Fred Hampton story, we’re never less than enthralled throughout. Working within historical confines, there’s theoretically only a limited number of narrative avenues for Judas and the Black Messiah to go down, yet the sheer power of the story and King’s distinctive perspective on events make for an utterly compelling experience.
With a solid narrative foundation laid out for them, the film’s ensemble put everything on the line, doing the real-life characters and events justice while bringing their own personalities to the table. Bolstered by the likes of Lakeith Stanfield, Jesse Plemons, Dominique Fishback, Ashton Sanders, and a terrifyingly unrecognisable Martin Sheen as J. Edgar Hoover, Judas and the Black Messiah’s cast is absolutely top drawer; however, it’s through the prevailing figure of Daniel Kaluuya that the film really hits home.
Far more than mere mimicry, Kaluuya’s turn is an all-encompassing one that embodies the mannerisms, voice, power, and rage of Fred Hampton with every fibre of his being, pouring them into a performance that’s every bit as searing, inspirational, and heart-breaking as it needs to be. Precisely because we often view Kaluuya’s Hampton through the eyes of others, we get to feel the full force of the man and the strength of his words, as we’re gradually coaxed into his righteous world.
With his screen time shared pretty evenly with Lakeith Stanfield, Kaluuya nonetheless makes every minute count, ensuring that we feel each moment with him deep within our soul. There’s unquestionably a chemistry between him and Stanfield, however, this is Kaluuya’s film through and through, as he puts in the performance of a career that’s already offered so many highlights, towering above the story every inch the messiah of the title.
His desire, drive, and commitment to do right by both his community and the disenfranchised America around him, coupled with the charisma and tactical nous to get the job done puts Fred Hampton on a par with many of the great figures of the civil rights era. The hope and inspiration we feel through Kaluuya’s embodiment of Hampton is truly awe-inspiring, making the injustice of his eventual downfall all the more painful, a tragedy that’s far more pertinent now than it really should be.
Driven by Daniel Kaluuya’s commanding performance and a powerful, resonant message, Judas and the Black Messiah overcomes its biopic trappings to deliver an exhilarating recount of a betrayal of biblical proportions and a criminally overlooked historical moment. Forthright and heart-breaking, Judas and the Black Messiah is a potent denunciation of discrimination and racial injustice, anchored by Kaluuya’s moving embodiment of a man in touching distance of tearing it all down, yet systematically pulled apart by the system. Pulsating and powerful, the film is a triumph that will hopefully inspire just as much as it will enrage.
Judas and the Black Messiah is available to rent/buy from all reputable outlets now.