At the beginning of a new year we all like to look ahead, but sometimes we can't help but looking back and take stock of our lives. Film allows us to examine someone else's life, learn from their mistakes, and share in their triumphs. That's the path I'm traveling as I complete my entry in the Year After Year Blogathon hosted by Movie Movie Blog Blog. The only real guideline he gave us was that the movie has to take place over a number of years. There is still a sliver of time to join. If you want to see how, or just see how others approached this topic, click here. Me? I decided to take a look at one of my all-time favorite movies, the Spike Lee directed biopic Malcolm X.
The real Malcolm X was assassinated shortly before turning forty years of age. He packed a lot into his time here on Earth. Lee covers most of it over the course of 202 riveting minutes. The film is mostly a linear telling, with the exception of his childhood, which is covered in flashbacks. Another exception are the opening moments. As we see fire eating away at the edges of an American flag, we hear Denzel Washington as the charismatic leader delivering a fiery speech to a delighted crowd. By the time this segment ends, the flag has been burned into the shape of an 'X.' It's a poignant image that is immediately irreverent, suggestive of the radical and reactionary mindset of a people often on the receiving end of the misdeeds of those in power, yet reminds us that this is a tale of an important American. It's just not one full of flowers and sunshine.
Our actual introduction to the subject comes during his early twenties. Then Malcolm Little, he spends most of his time hanging out with his (fictional) buddy Shorty (Spike Lee) at local dances trying to bed women and committing burglaries and other crimes. Two important things are set up by this portion of the film. The easiest to see is that this, in spite of how his life ends, is ultimately a story of redemption. The other is more important. It's an idea Malcolm dealt with and eventually pushed back against. It's one that still plagues much of the non-white world. It's the idea that the closer one's proximity to and/or approximation of whiteness the better a person is and how this affects people of color. We see this explicitly in young Malcolm going through great pain to straighten his hair and in the woman he chooses. Every instant of him doing something "white" and every interaction with whites turns out terribly. Lee, borrowing liberally from X's own autobiography (as told to the brilliant Alex Haley), ensures that we understand that his decisions are informed by a lifetime of experience.
The second act of the film covers Malcolm's six years in prison. It's here where he converts to Islam and begins to turn his life around. He begins to understand that the oppressed in which he and most blacks were (are) living was not by happenstance. Systemic racism is a carefully orchestrated symphony espousing the greatness of its benefactors while demonizing those it relegates to the cheap seats. This realization begins with, of all things, a dictionary, and evolves into a worldview to be worked toward.
Malcolm's release from prison sees a man who is aggressively transforming into the man he wants to be. We watch his rise through the ranks of the Nation of Islam under the tutelage of the organization's leader Elijah Muhammad (Al Freeman Jr.). He becomes the face of the NOI. This is the Malcolm X most people first think of when his name comes up: the passionate, no-holds-barred orator calling out white devils and Uncle Toms alike. This Malcolm X was the most feared man in America. Even decades after his death, he is one of the most divisive figures in the country's history.
However, the story of Malcolm X is one of reinvention. Beginning with his suspension from the NOI Malcolm makes himself anew once more. He makes the pilgrimage to Mecca, as many Muslims do. What happens to him there is the genesis of the final incarnation of Malcolm X: el-Hajj Malik el-Shabazz. This is a man still very much cognizant of the plight of African-Americans, yet also moving away from the separatist rhetoric of the NOI. This, in part, cost him his life.
Spike Lee uses almost every bit of that life to give us a complete picture of his subject. To help him do this, he sticks pretty close to the aforementioned autobiography where he can. When he can't, those last few weeks leading up his assassination, he remains true to the spirit of the film he's made up to that point. Throughout, his biggest aid is Denzel Washington. He fully embodies his subject to the point where their images have merged in my head. This is coming from someone who was very aware of Malcolm X long before the release of this movie. I had a Malcolm X poster in my room in the barracks when I was in the army. The man stared down at me, and I back at him, many days. Yet, after seeing the movie I have trouble separating the two. When I hear the name Malcolm X, the first image that pops into my head is of Denzel playing him. I then remind myself that that's not really Malcolm and the image switches to the real thing. As a movie buff, I've watched a lot of movies, including most of those that are routinely mentioned as being among the best ever. I even love a good deal of them and the towering performances they contain. Still, for my money, what Washington does here is the greatest piece of acting I've ever seen. But the movie doesn't end with the demise of his character.
Malcolm was killed in 1965, but Spike Lee has more years to go. He gives us an epilogue in the present (1992), which stars none other than Nelson Mandela. It's a reflection on Malcolm's legacy and an acknowledgement that the work he was doing is not yet done. It's also used as an affirmation to those of us, all of us, who have the opportunity to finish the job. The sad part is that, as the epilogue to Spike Lee's latest movie, BlacKkKlansman shows us, that job is still incomplete.
Check out these other posts on Malcolm, Spike, and Denzel
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