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.
It’s hard not to watch “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” the vibrant adaptation of August Wilson’s play of the same name, now streaming on Netflix, without feeling a sense of loss. It’s Chadwick Boseman’s last performance and the life he brings to the role of ambitious trumpet player Levee acts as a poignant reminder of a career cut tragically short.
Set in the roaring 1920’s Chicago, Viola Davis plays the titular character, a real-life musical trailblazer known as “Mother of the Blues.” On a sweltering day in a dank basement recording studio, the band, pianist Toledo (Glynn Turman), trombonist Cutler (Colman Domingo), and string bassist Slow Drag (Michael Potts) and Levee, rehearse as they wait for the fashionably late Ma to arrive.
The heat, claustrophobia, frayed egos and twitchy Levee’s insistence on changing tried-and-true musical arrangements, fuel a war of words and wills as they attempt to put Ma’s signature “Black Bottom” song to disc.
“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” theatrical roots are very much on display in director George C. Wolfe (a five-time Tony winner) and screenwriter Ruben Santiago-Hudson’s adaptation. The presentation is energetic but simple; a showcase for the performances. Like bandleader Cutler says, “a-one, a-two, a-you know what to do.”
And they sure do. The core cast is uniformly excellent.
Domingo is understated but powerful as the bandleader, heading off interpersonal crisis with a few well-chosen words. Turman, recently seen as the stately Doctor Senator, consigliere to Chris Rock’s crime boss, on “Fargo,” is the sage of the group, gives Toledo’s monologues gravitas as he speaks of racial pride and personal sovereignty.
Davis is flamboyant, a diva who uses her demands to maintain control over her band and respect from her white producers (Jeremy Shamos and Jonny Coyne). “They don’t care nothin’ about me,” she says. “All they want is my voice. I learned that and they are going to treat me the way I want to be treated no matter how much it hurts them.” It’s a bravura performance that’s almost as loud and proud as the garish make Ma has slathered on her face.
Ma Rainey’s name may be on the marquee but the most memorable character is Boseman’s Levee. Ambitious, he wants to leave behind the sideman gigs and form his own band, Levee Green and His Foot Stompers, but his bluster hides a deep well of pain that overflows during the steamy afternoon recording session. Levee is a tragic character, a classically flawed man straining against the weight of personal trauma, hoping that his talent will bring him the respect he needs to survive. The distressing effects of racial discrimination are written large on Boseman’s expressive face, informing every twist and turn in his character’s journey. It’s a skillful and heartbreaking performance that doesn’t just hint at his great talent, but lays it bare. It’s the kind of performance, filled with fury and frustration, that makes you hungry for more. Sadly, it’s his swan song.
Although set in the 1920s and written in the 1980s, the ideas and the anger in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” feels of the moment and indispensable. The dialogue crackles and the context resonates because Wilson’s source material has not only stood the test of time, but transcends it.
“The Way Back,” a new drama starring Ben Affleck, is a riff on the you-can-never-go-home-again story with a sports twist.
Affleck is Jack Cunningham, a former high school basketball phenom who left a full scholarship at the University of Kansas on the table as he walked away from a promising career and into years of addiction. “I spent a lot of time hurting myself,” he says. “I made a lot of bad decisions. I got a lot of regrets.”
Cut to years later. Jack’s drinking—he starts the day with a beer in the shower—has cost him everything but when his alma mater recruits him to coach their basketball team he reluctantly agrees. “Is the team any good? he asks. “No,” he’s told. “In fact, the last time they made the playoffs, you were still playing.”
The team is in tatters, a laughing stock in the league but being back on the court gives Jack a renewed sense of being. “It keeps me busy,” he says. “Keeps my mind off other things.” As he molds the ragtag team into a force to be reckoned with, he discovers that the inspirational lessons he is teaching the kids—”The players decide the game!”—apply to his life as well.
“The Way Back” has the form of many other sports flicks—a new coach helps a failing team find their mojo—but this one digs deeper to focus on the characters rather than the rah rah of the sports. It’s “The Days of Wine and Rose” with basketball and a bleary eyed, beer-bellied and vulnerable Affleck at the center.
A quiet movie that tells the story of a man living in quiet desperation, “The Way Back” benefits greatly from Affleck’s raw but understated performance. Jack is damaged goods, a man wounded by life who subverts his pain by staring at the bottom of a pint glass. Director Gavin O’Connor gives Affleck nowhere to hide, shooting up-close-and-personal, and you can practically smell the beer breath as he shouts instructions at his players from the sidelines.
Rebuilding his life doesn’t come easily for Jack and the lack of easy life hacks, and a great central performance, elevates “The Way Back” above the run-of-the-mill sports drama.
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.
