|
|
THE HATE U GIVE
Director: George Tillman Jr. Cast: Amandla Stenberg, Regina Hall, Russell Hornsby, K.J. Apa, Anthony Mackie, Issa Rae, Common, Algee Smith, Sabrina Carpenter, Lamar Johnson, Dominique Fishback, TJ Wright, Megan Lawless, Rhonda Johnson Dents MPAA
Rating: Running Time: 2:13 Release Date: 10/5/18 (limited); 10/19/18 (wide) |
|
Review by Mark Dujsik | October 18, 2018 The Hate U Give most certainly has a lot to say. At first, the primary vessel for the movie's observations and statements—a teenage girl trying to navigate issues of race and class within two distinct areas of her life—keeps this story grounded. Starr Carter (Amandla Stenberg) lives in an economically impoverished part of town, but she goes to a private school in a more affluent neighborhood. At the start of her story, she explains that she has to exist as two versions of herself—one for home, where her father has to give his children the Talk about how to act in front of the police, and one for school, where her classmates have a tendency to "act black" but might look at Starr differently if she did the same. The rest of Starr's story entails her trying to decide which version is more herself or to learn if there's a third, previously unknown option—something in between the two versions or a new variation that she has yet to discover. This is a complicated enough story as it stands, but the late Audrey Wells' screenplay (based on Angie Thomas' novel) doesn't stop there. With a single moment in the first act, Starr's story takes a severe turn, bringing up even more issues that the movie must confront. There's a delicacy to the way Wells and director George Tillman Jr. keep Starr and her inner conflict as the primary methods of addressing what's happening in this microcosm of society. It's a world, set in fictional neighborhoods that nonetheless seem authentic, that is constantly in conflict—between the past and the present, the haves and the have nots, the privileged and the underrepresented, the persecuted and the conscious or unconscious persecutors. In other words, the movie feels quite real and depressingly relevant for a significant portion of its running time. Its relevancy never comes into question, as the story addresses police violence and protests, as well as how, when, and why a person must stand up and be heard—even and especially when no one seems to be listening. There's genuine power in the movie's best moments, which see this call to activism as a process that's unique to the main character, long debated, and hard fought. What's missing, though, is a narrative focus to match the movie's political passion. We expect that such a story, in which one of Starr's friends is shot and killed by a cop without warning or legitimate reason, will tackle an assortment of issues with a broad brush. It's easy enough to forgive that the movie's treatment of this issue and its closely related ones is at times unfocused and uncertain, because such is the way these things arise and are dealt with in the real world. It's more difficult to ignore that the story itself is unfocused and uncertain, introducing a variety of characters who exist to overly complicate a tale that is already fairly complicated. The major event is when Starr and Khalil (Algee Smith), her best friend since childhood, are pulled over by a police officer. Starr learned from her father Maverick (Russell Hornsby), a reformed gang member who spent some time in prison, how to avoid problems in such a situation. Khalil doesn't listen to Starr's warnings, and after Khalil reaches into the car window to check on her and grab a hairbrush, the cop shoots him. There are protests. A lawyer (played by Issa Rae) wants Starr to testify before a grand jury. Starr's mother Lisa (Regina Hall) worries that the publicity could be detrimental to her family. Starr has a decision to make. In theory, this sounds relatively simple and straightforward—a political issue played out as one girl's moral dilemma. It's also, in a way, a coming-of-age story, which means we're introduced to Starr's white boyfriend Chris (K.J. Apa), who doesn't quite understand Starr's life but sincerely does want to learn about and from her, as well as other classmates, whose unintentional or subtle racism toward Starr becomes more clear as she becomes more conscious of what's happening. For some reason, we're even introduced to the local gang leader King (Anthony Mackie), who deals drugs (Khalil worked for King to help with his grandmother, diagnosed with cancer, and this fact turns the shooting victim into a criminal in the minds of certain people—a turn that is painfully authentic to reality). He sees Starr as a potential threat to his livelihood and freedom. In a movie that otherwise views its characters with a level of understanding and compassion, King feels like a mustache-twirling villain in a story that most definitely doesn't need one. The last act of the movie has a protest turn into a riot. Instead of dealing with it, though, the movie pushes it into background for one, final act of villainy on King's part. There's a clear difference between complex and heavy-handed, but it's one of those things you have to see to know. Unfortunately, The Hate U Give falls into the latter category. It's not because of what the movie has to say and how it says those things. It's in how the filmmakers frame those vital statements within a story that so easily, so readily, and so frequently falls into the trap of melodrama. Copyright © 2018 by Mark Dujsik. All rights reserved. |
Buy Related Products Buy the Soundtrack (Digital Download) Buy the Score (Digital Download)
|
(for mature thematic elements, some violent content, drug material and
language)
