In “Rustin,” a new reverential historical drama now streaming on Netflix, Emmy Award winner Colman Domingo plays Bayard Rustin, a gay Black man whose vision and tenacity had an outsized effect on the Civil Rights Movement. He’s been largely forgotten by history but “Rustin,” produced by Barack and Michelle Obama’s production company Higher Ground, serves as a potent reminder of his activist legacy.
The story of the run-up to 1963’s March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom and the famous “I Have a Dream” speech, “Rustin” sets the stage with harrowing images of 1950s segregation.
Cut to 1960 and a plan between Rustin and Reverend Martin Luther King Jr’s. (Aml Ameen) to launch a protest march on the Democratic National Convention. The plan is thwarted by U.S. Congressman Adam Clayton Powell Jr’s. (Jeffrey Wright) threat of a misinformation campaign, linking the two men romantically. Powell’s allegation, while untrue, causes a rift between the two men that sees Rustin kicked to the curb.
Three years later Rustin hatches another plan, a massive, non-violent march on Washington to pressure the Kennedy administration to initiate a strong federal civil rights bill in Congress.
With little to no support from DC’s power base, due to racism, his former communist membership and his sexuality—“When it comes to the old guard,” he says, “I’m considered a pariah.”—Rustin seeks support from his estranged friend King. “Do this Dr. King,” he says. “Own your power.”
The next eight tumultuous weeks find Rustin balancing his personal life—an affair with married preacher Elias (Johnny Ramey)—and his work with King and their band of “angelic troublemakers” as they arrange one of the largest political rallies for human rights in United States history. “On August 28,” he says, “Black, white, young, old, rich, working-class, poor will descend on Washington, DC.”
“Rustin” tells the story of a landmark moment in the battle for Civil Rights, but this isn’t just a history lesson. It’s really is a character study of the charming, driven man who made it happen.
The movie itself is stagey and straightforward, prone to grandstanding with an over-reliance on exposition, but it comes alive whenever the charismatic Domingo is on screen.
As portrayed in the film, Rustin is a powerhouse, a man predisposed to challenging authority, to giving voice to hard truths, to never backing down. Domingo inhabits him, embracing the strength to never apologize for who he is or his quest for justice and equality. “On the day I was born Black, I was also born homosexual. They either believe in justice and freedom for all, or they do not,” he rails against his detractors. It’s a muscular, timely performance that makes up for the film’s other shortcomings.
By times, “Rustin” feels rushed. Several scenes end prematurely and without explanation, giving the film an odd rhythm. But, the final moments as the march comes to life, are moving, empowering and pack an emotional punch, as does the portrait of a behind the scenes trailblazer and hero.
Despite its explosive historical topic, “Till,” now playing in theatres, is a quiet movie, an understated look at how a mother’s grief can change the world.
Set in 1955, the true story (Jalyn Hall) begins in Chicago with 14-year-old Emmett Till (Jalyn Hall) preparing to visit his uncle and cousins in Mississippi. He’s a little kid with a big personality who likes to sing along with Louis Prima records, wear a fedora and act out scenes from horror movies.
His loving mother Mamie Till-Mobley (Danielle Deadwyler) urges him to be careful in the South. “Be small down there,” she says as he boards the train. She has a sense of foreboding that reads in flashes on her face. “He just doesn’t know how different things are down there.”
On August 24 Emmett, called Bo by his family and friends, hangs out with his cousins at Bryant’s Grocery and Meat Market, the local general store. Inside, he buys candy from white shopkeeper Carolyn Bryant (Haley Bennett). Making conversation he says, “You look like a movie star.” Later, outside the store, Emmett playfully wolf-whistles her. As she scrambles for her gun, Emmett and cousins flee, hoping that is the end of Bryant’s racist rage.
The historical record shows what happened next. Young Emmett was kidnapped in the middle of the night from his uncle’s home by Roy Bryant, Carolyn’s 24-year-old husband, and his half-brother J.W. Milam. Taken to another location, the teenager was beaten, shot and hanged before being dumped, unceremoniously in a river, where his bloated body was discovered days later.
In Chicago, when the tragic news arrives, Mamie is thrust into a national conversation on civil rights as Emmett’s killers are placed on trial.
“Till” is a historical period piece that resonates with ripped-from-the-headlines urgency. While true to the timeframe, the story contains all too familiar and current themes. This is the story of Emmett Till and his mother, but it reverberates with the names of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and many others.
Director Chinonye Chukwu’s movie walks the line between historical record and urgent cry for action, but does so in an elegant film anchored by a remarkable performance. As Mamie, Deadwyler is a mix of love, grief and fury in a performance that vibrates with authenticity.
On her way to becoming a civil rights icon, Mamie withstood not only the loss of her son but also a biased judge who calls Mrs. Bryant “dear” as she prepares to fabricate the story of her interaction with Emmett on the stand, and a Mississippi sheriff who accuses her and the NAACP of staging the entire event. “That boy is still alive somewhere,” he says. In the face of each of these scenarios, and others, Deadwyler is vulnerable and steely but never sentimental in her work.
Stuck between her duty as a mother and the opportunity to use Emmett’s death as a catalyst for change, Mamie uses her grief as a powerful tool and Deadwyler’s resolve is self-evident in every frame of the film.
“Till” is a thoughtful film that showcases Mamie’s humanity and push for change over the inhumane action of Emmett’s murderers. It is a tragedy, but it doesn’t sensationalize events. It mines the real feelings left in the aftermath of the Emmett’s death by way of beautiful, quiet scenes. The solace Mamie feels, for instance, while reading an unfinished letter from her late son, is unforgettable, as is the film.
A new biopic hopes to rehabilitate the reputation of Tammy Faye Bakker, the scandal plagued televangelist who may be best remembered for her outlandish taste in make-up. But “The Eyes of Tammy Faye,” now playing in theatres and starring Jessica Chastain in the title role, looks at the unusual rise and fall of a woman many wrote off years ago as a pop culture joke, through fresh eyes. “I won’t go forward looking in the rearview mirror of my life,” she says. “This is who I am.”
The eldest of eight children raised by stern mother Rachel (Cherry Jones), Tammy Faye (played as a youngster by Chandler Head) makes an impression at her mother’s Pentecostal Church when she speaks in tongues over a glass of sacramental wine.
Cut to 1960, Tammy Faye (now played by Chastain) is studying at the North Central Bible College in Minneapolis when she meets a charismatic student named Jim Bakker (Andrew Garfield). His approach to religion flipped the script from God fearing to expecting God to exalt those who made money in His name.
“God does not want us to be poor,” he says.
The pair, now man and wife, take their act on the road. Jim preaches, Tammy does puppet shows and both dream of starting their own church. After a meet cute with a producer for Pat Robertson’s Christian Broadcasting Network, the couple get a TV gig and their biggest audience to date. Their folksy blend of religion, songs and hellfire catch on and within five years their Praise the Lord (PTL) Network hits the airwaves and the seeds of a scandal that will rock the televangelist community, and turn the Bakkers into tabloid fodder, are planted.
“The Eyes of Tammy Faye” features a bravado performance from Chastain, but like the make-up painted on the actress’s face, it is all surface. She is an entertaining combination of pluck, nervous giggle and giant eye lashes, but despite the occasional flash, the work is all personality with not enough going on behind the titular eyes. It’s big, bold and even admirable work, but never gets to the core of what made Tammy Faye run.
Chastain isn’t aided by a Wikipedia style script that hits the high and low points of the Tammy Faye’s life, career and marriage, but often forgets the connective tissue that brings these elements together. Despite the disjointed storytelling, the movie does do some interesting world building in its recreation of the PTL broadcasts and the presentation of the Bakkers’s elaborate lifestyle in all its lurid 1980s detail.
“The Eyes of Tammy Faye” entertains the ocular orbs but blinks when it comes to really digging deep into what was behind Tammy Faye’s eyes.
In “Rustin,” a new reverential historical drama now streaming on Netflix, Emmy Award winner Colman Domingo plays Bayard Rustin, a gay Black man whose vision and tenacity had an outsized effect on the Civil Rights Movement. He’s been largely forgotten by history but “Rustin,” produced by Barack and Michelle Obama’s production company Higher Ground, serves as a potent reminder of his activist legacy.
