After a four-year absence, Marcus (a bracingly good Anthony Mackie) returns to his hometown of Philadelphia to attend his father's funeral early on in Tanya Hamilton's excellent debut, Night Catches Us, but specters of other sorts loom heavier over Marcus and the small community where he grew up and lived, for a time, as a member of the Black Panthers. It's the summer of 1976: Gov. Jimmy Carter can be heard on the radio giving a speech about a new dawn on the campaign trail, even as the Black Power movement becomes disillusioned and torn apart by inner conflict, fueled by paranoia and desperation. Unity is still trumpeted but Marcus's return is met with hostility, bitterness and cat calls of "snitch" around the town for reasons that Hamilton reveals slowly, with startling precision.
In fact, the only person who seems legitimately happy to see Marcus back in town is Patty (a superb Kerry Washington), a fellow erstwhile Panther and widow to Neal, Marcus's close friend who was shot by police in his own home around the time Marcus skipped town. Neal's death is not spoken about by Patty on account of Iris (Jamara Griffin), her daughter with Neal, but for others, Neal might as well have been the whole cause -- friends proudly say he killed 50 police officers before they got him. Hamilton, who also wrote the script and worked closely with cinematographer David Tumblety, captures the community in midst of ideological transitions and details its myths vibrantly as Marcus and Patty confront a myriad of their colleagues and friends in the cause, both those who have, in some way, moved on and those who can't let go.
Chief amongst the latter would be Dwayne (Jamie Hector from HBO's The Wire), who begins taunting and threatening Marcus from the moment he comes into town. Dwayne, who still believes the FBI is after him, is the dangerous sort of influence that glorifies assassinations and cop shootings to Iris's generation and presents the Black Panthers as righteous soldiers fighting pure evil. Iris has Patty and, even more so, Marcus to provide clarity but Patty's cousin, Jimmy (Amari Cheatom), takes it all in verbatim, a situation not helped by a run-in with the police. At one point, Jimmy scolds his impoverished white employer for diminishing returns on the cans he collects, only to be offered half of what the white man gave him by his black counterpart who wears a suit. Hamilton, without an ounce of nostalgia or romanticized politics, paints the predominantly white police force as pig-headed and abusive but nowhere near as destructive as the corruption and confusion that exists within the black community.
Those two forces converge in the personage of David (Wendell Pierce, another Wire alum), a detective who isn't above asking Marcus to plant evidence on Dwayne to ensure he stops circulating guns. Corrupt, yes, but nearly every character in Hamilton's film has embellished a story, lied about an incident or covered up some haunting memory. It all makes for palpable confusion, especially for Iris, but Marcus represents a wealth of information and a grounded sincerity, not unlike Hamilton. Tending towards lyricism rather than urgency, the director strikes a tone that is both melancholy and ultimately hopeful, mirrored perfectly in the smoldering romance that builds between Marcus and Patty.
There are no easy answers or chances for easy blame in Night Catches Us: No blithe racism, histrionic drug abuse chapters, outlandish acts of violence or, for that matter, simple catharsis. The stereotypes that have sadly plagued a great deal of American cinema dealing with the Black Power movement and African-American history are largely absent and those that do remain are handled with honesty and respect. (The mixture of classic soul, funk and a fantastic, immersive score by The Roots keeps the 1970s atmosphere similarly sincere.) It's ironic then to note that Hamilton's beautiful film is punctuated so perfectly by a scene from a Popeye cartoon, wherein Olive Oyl loses her mind while being carried by two uncaring ghosts.
In fact, the only person who seems legitimately happy to see Marcus back in town is Patty (a superb Kerry Washington), a fellow erstwhile Panther and widow to Neal, Marcus's close friend who was shot by police in his own home around the time Marcus skipped town. Neal's death is not spoken about by Patty on account of Iris (Jamara Griffin), her daughter with Neal, but for others, Neal might as well have been the whole cause -- friends proudly say he killed 50 police officers before they got him. Hamilton, who also wrote the script and worked closely with cinematographer David Tumblety, captures the community in midst of ideological transitions and details its myths vibrantly as Marcus and Patty confront a myriad of their colleagues and friends in the cause, both those who have, in some way, moved on and those who can't let go.
Chief amongst the latter would be Dwayne (Jamie Hector from HBO's The Wire), who begins taunting and threatening Marcus from the moment he comes into town. Dwayne, who still believes the FBI is after him, is the dangerous sort of influence that glorifies assassinations and cop shootings to Iris's generation and presents the Black Panthers as righteous soldiers fighting pure evil. Iris has Patty and, even more so, Marcus to provide clarity but Patty's cousin, Jimmy (Amari Cheatom), takes it all in verbatim, a situation not helped by a run-in with the police. At one point, Jimmy scolds his impoverished white employer for diminishing returns on the cans he collects, only to be offered half of what the white man gave him by his black counterpart who wears a suit. Hamilton, without an ounce of nostalgia or romanticized politics, paints the predominantly white police force as pig-headed and abusive but nowhere near as destructive as the corruption and confusion that exists within the black community.
Those two forces converge in the personage of David (Wendell Pierce, another Wire alum), a detective who isn't above asking Marcus to plant evidence on Dwayne to ensure he stops circulating guns. Corrupt, yes, but nearly every character in Hamilton's film has embellished a story, lied about an incident or covered up some haunting memory. It all makes for palpable confusion, especially for Iris, but Marcus represents a wealth of information and a grounded sincerity, not unlike Hamilton. Tending towards lyricism rather than urgency, the director strikes a tone that is both melancholy and ultimately hopeful, mirrored perfectly in the smoldering romance that builds between Marcus and Patty.
There are no easy answers or chances for easy blame in Night Catches Us: No blithe racism, histrionic drug abuse chapters, outlandish acts of violence or, for that matter, simple catharsis. The stereotypes that have sadly plagued a great deal of American cinema dealing with the Black Power movement and African-American history are largely absent and those that do remain are handled with honesty and respect. (The mixture of classic soul, funk and a fantastic, immersive score by The Roots keeps the 1970s atmosphere similarly sincere.) It's ironic then to note that Hamilton's beautiful film is punctuated so perfectly by a scene from a Popeye cartoon, wherein Olive Oyl loses her mind while being carried by two uncaring ghosts.
