Mark Reviews Movies: ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI...

Follow on Facebook | Follow on Twitter | Become a Patron

Review by Mark Dujsik | January 7, 2021

On February 25, 1964, a 22-year-old Cassius Clay would become the World Heavyweight Champion. About a week later, the boxer would start being called Muhammad Ali. That happened, in part, because of the spiritual guidance of Malcolm X, who would be dead, assassinated by members of the religious/political group he left, almost exactly a year after the boxing match. Sam Cooke, too, would be dead within the year of the fight, killed under suspicious circumstances at a Los Angeles motel.

Death seems to weigh heavily on the events of One Night in Miami..., a speculative drama about a meeting between the boxer, the activist, the singer, and football player Jim Brown on the night following Clay's victory in the boxing ring. The film, directed by Regina King and written by Kemp Powers (based on his play), only acknowledges the murder of Malcolm X, but for those who know about Cooke's death, his story here possesses a similar degree of inevitable tragedy.

Played by Kingsley Ben-Adir, the Malcolm X in the film, just as the real man, is aware that his life is in danger, suspecting (rightly) that federal agents are following him and uncertain if people within the Nation of Islam are aware of his plans to leave the organization. No one has ever left, so no one knows what the consequences might be. In this story, he is determined to make an impact on these three men, because he knows his own time is running out.

As for Sam (Leslie Odom Jr.), the soulful singer set on crossing over to the pop charts, he might as well have all the time in the world. He doesn't, though. None of the men, especially the crooner himself, could anticipate that future on this particular night, filled with celebration and conversation and conflict.

That's the gist of Powers' screenplay—celebration, conversation, conflict. It's that simple and that effective. We get to watch four famous cultural and historical figures enjoy each other's company, dig through an assortment of contemporary political issues, and quickly realize how far apart some of them may be on those topics, even if the end goal more or less remains the same.

It's a thoughtful film, obviously, as much about ideas and debate as it is about the central gimmick, based on a historical fact, of seeing such luminaries come together to put their personalities and philosophies on full display. This material works because we can imagine the same scenario, the same discussions, and the same clashes happening between four completely different characters, who aren't anywhere as famous as these four men, and we can also imagine it having a similar impact.

This story, though, is specific to these particular men. We first meet each of them in a lengthy prologue. Cassius is knocked down in a bout, after getting a little too showy. Jim (Aldis Hodge), who just earned a professional record, returns home to Georgia, where he's admired by a neighbor, who maintains his smile when he makes it clear he won't allow a Black man into his home.

Sam has a disastrous show at the Copacabana, which might not have been so bad if the all-white audience even cared to listen. Malcolm is planning to leave the group that has made him famous/infamous, and he's hoping the soon-to-be champion boxer will be the celebrity that gives his new organization legitimacy—and himself some protection.

Most of the story, though, takes place in a Miami motel, primarily within a single room but also in the parking lot, on the rooftop, and, for a brief interlude between the singer and the boxer, around town. Cassius is the new world champion, and Malcolm has arranged a "party" for the four of them. It will be a long night of smiling and laughing, as well as lot of political disagreements and some deeply held resentments coming to the surface.

Malcolm is at the heart of most of those differences. He's determined for Cassius to publicly announce his conversion to Islam. He's slightly suspicious of Jim's decision to continue with a fledgling acting career.

Most of the minister's ire, though, is aimed at Sam, a singer of such talent and promise, whom Malcolm believes is wasting all of that talent and promise to appeal to white audiences who will never fully accept him. Sam has his own plan to promote and make money for Black performers, but then Malcolm plays Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind" for the group. Being openly political didn't hurt this white man from Minnesota, so what's keeping Sam from using his art to make a statement?

There are three major reasons this film works as well as it does. First, it's smart, incisive, and perceptive about and within its political debates (King, wisely, lets them play out in stagy wide shots and pointed close-ups, with slight camera moves accentuating the tension of such moments). Second, Powers' story is as much about the personal as it is about the political, in the way, for example, that Malcolm's sense of impending doom adds such momentum and force to what he has to say to his friends.

Third and, perhaps, most importantly, we're watching four significant performances. All of these actors avoid broad caricature in order to play real characters. There's a genuine sense of the private people behind these public personas.

Cassius, bragging even among friends, has his moments of doubt. Jim, putting on an air of strong calm, has a contemplative moment alone and is capable of sincere compassion when he sees a friend in distress. Sam argues so fiercely with Malcolm because, deep down, he knows the minister is right. While all of these performances are great, it's Ben-Adir, as a Malcolm X who has the weight of a movement and his own fears bearing down upon him, who anchors One Night in Miami... and the film's final move toward the melancholy inevitability of fate.

Back to Home

Buy Related Products