With the current state of world politics, there may have never been a better time to release director Shaka King’s incendiary account of Black Panther leader Fred Hampton’s rise to power and the loss of that power at the hand of FBI informant William O’Neil. King’s film is as much a fascinating look into one pivotal moment in the history of the African-American movement for liberation as it is a powerful statement about the current plight of the Black community, highlighting some horrifying similarities between the 1960’s and 2021. Anchored by monumental performances from Daniel Kaluuya and LaKeith Stanfield, Judas and the Black Messiah is an intense and harrowing look at a man whose importance to the Black struggle in America cannot be understated; one that will leave you furious and hungry for reform.
When small-time criminal O’Neil (Stanfield) is caught by police attempting to steal a car while posing as a federal officer, he finds himself face-to-face with FBI agent Roy Mitchell (Jesse Plemons), who offers a choice between prison or working as an informant within the civil-rights activism group ‘The Black Panthers’. O’Neil takes the obvious option and soon finds himself indoctrinated by the Panthers in their revolutionary beliefs; inserting himself within the inner circle of the group’s young leader Fred Hampton (Kaluuya). As time goes on and O’Neil becomes an integral part of the Chicago chapter of the group – all the while feeding the FBI intel – he discovers that Hampton may just be the best man to lead his people to equality; the previously undecided bystander forced to pick a side in the war for representation. The screws begin to tighten when this newfound radicalism begins to threaten the FBI’s plans, and Bill is forced to make a difficult choice between the larger movement and his own self-preservation.
That inner conflict in O’Neil also offers a question to viewers that is as relevant in today’s politically contentious climate as it was in the 1960’s: are you content to sit back and watch oppression occur or will you get involved and be a force for good to solve it? It’s a big picture kind of question to ask and Shaka King and co. spend the two hour runtime making a very compelling case for liberation, showcasing the vile and underhanded inner-workings of the FBI at the time. The film itself may be beautifully shot but make no mistake this is a film that deals with ugly topics; namely one of the darkest, depraved chapters of American law enforcement history. The calculated stifling of the Black voice was and remains a horrible tragedy in American history, and King makes the eventual climax of that tragedy hit all the harder with the characterisation he gives O’Neil and Hampton.
Bill is far removed from the civil rights movement of his people when he is first apprehended by the police, content to make a living for himself doing whatever he needs to do to survive; a sad reality that was and is an all too common part of the Black story. Indeed Bill actually enjoys the duping of the Black Panthers for a time, viewing the entire ordeal as some sort of light-hearted game with Stanfield flashing sly smiles behind the backs of his Panther comrades when he bluffs through a sticky situation or escapes a shootout with police. Seeing the unjust arrest of Hampton and the FBI’s violent response changes something in O’Neil, forcing him to commit one way or the other, a prospect made all the more precarious with the FBI breathing down his neck. Stanfield is truly brilliant in these scenes, all nervous tics and sweaty, paranoid glances as he fears apprehension from both sides. A truly gripping scene involving O’Neill at the height of his paranoia is impossible to turn away from, with his terrified facial expression and jittering body making the outcome of a pivotal choice terrifying and unknowable, as King milks every last drop of tension out of the scene.
If Stanfield is our guide into the world of the Black Panther then Daniel Kaluuya’s Fred Hampton is the shadow that looms over every scene, at once as charismatic and arresting a performance as Denzel in Malcolm X. From the way he carries himself to the noticeable drop in the cadence of his voice before a tense discussion or speech Kaluuya is simply phenomenal, imbuing Hampton with a confidence and assuredness that bely his young age. The speeches in particular are the highlight of the film, with the iconic “I am a revolutionary” message striking a particular contemporary nerve given the recent bouts of white supremacy across the United States. The focus and energy Kaluuya carries in his eyes alone in these scenes – throwing it all out on the line as he makes his impassioned argument for peace – is incredibly representative of the fury and desperation seen today in Black Lives Matter protests across the country. A sobering realisation for audiences that not much has changed in the intervening years.
That’s not to say King’s film wallows in pessimism – it doesn’t. There is a flair to his direction; a stylisation to the informant storyline of O’Neill reminiscent of Spike Lee’s recent Blackkklansman but no less arresting. The camera swirls through the streets as we follow Bill bluffing his way to the top of the Black Panthers, capturing the side of him that no one else does through careful editing and musical cues. When things begin to go awry for Bill the menacing staccato Jazz notes that shriek against the stillness of the scene chill your blood; putting you on edge as you anticipate his next, potentially fatal move. Authentic costuming puts the viewer right into that late 60’s/early 70’s time period without being overly flashy and taking attention away from the performances of its stars, a rare skill that many period pieces could take a lesson from.
Judas and the Black Messiah is a triumph of filmmaking that explores one of the most influential figures in the African American civil rights movement in a way that ensures his message lives on in these troubling times. With Shaka King’s sure hand at the helm and career best performances from Kaluuya and Stanfield, this is a film that seeks to educate and entertain, achieving both through an intense story of betrayal, subterfuge and the moral divide between two people in the same marginalised group with wildly different outlooks on the world. There couldn’t be a more pertinent time for a film like this to be released, striking that raw nerve of society in a way that makes everyone look at themselves that little bit harder.
Judas and the Black Messiah stars Daniel Kaluuya, LaKeith Stanfield, Jesse Plemons, Dominique Fishback, Ashton Sanders, Algee Smith, Dominique Thorne, Lil Rel Howery & Martin Sheen – In Australian cinemas March 11th and streaming on HBO Max and in US cinemas now.