Judas and the Black Messiah

“Only two women are given space in this story—and not much space, at that.”

Title: Judas and the Black Messiah (2020)
Director: Shaka King 👨🏾🇺🇸
Writers: Will Berson 👨🏼🇺🇸, Shaka King 👨🏾🇺🇸, Kenny Lucas 👨🏾🇺🇸, and Keith Lucas 👨🏾🇺🇸

Reviewed by Alicja Johnson 👩🏼🇺🇸

—SPOILERS AHEAD—

Technical: 4.5/5

Since appearing together in 2017’s Get Out, LaKeith Stanfield and Daniel Kaluuya have steadily risen to well-earned prominence through recent Hollywood favorites like Black Panther (2018) and Knives Out (2019). Now at the top of their game in Judas and the Black Messiah, Kaluuya and Stanfield’s reunion feels all the more satisfying knowing how far they’ve come since 2017.

Fresh off six Academy Award nominations, Judas follows the chairman of the Black Panther Illinois chapter, Fred Hampton (Kaluuya), during the late 1960s through the lens of FBI informant William O’Neal (Stanfield). Apprehended by FBI agent Roy Mitchell (Jesse Plemons) for car theft and impersonating an officer, the Bureau gives 17-year-old O’Neal a choice between serving five years in prison or infiltrating the Black Panther Party (BPP). As you’ve probably deduced, he chooses the latter.

While Stanfield delivers a worthy performance on his own, Kaluuya takes control of this movie with his finest acting work to date. We first meet Fred Hampton stepping onto an elevated platform before a modest gathering of students in a college auditorium. Even before he opens his mouth, Kaluuya’s commanding stature feels like being in the presence of a great speaker—a hunch that will be repeatedly confirmed throughout the film. Director Shaka King captures Hampton’s ability to captivate an audience and kick them into meaningful action, but also the revolutionary’s commitment to his community. Kaluuya’s performance intimately acquaints us with these many sides, aided by the fact that he’s surrounded by equally talented actors.

Yet the screenplay struggles to balance the focus between Hampton and O’Neal. As historical figures, both are enormously fascinating, but O’Neal gets the short end of the stick. Stanfield does a nice job of expressing the conflicting emotions O’Neal has about the double-agent role he’s forced to play, but it feels like the writers leave so much about his psyche unexplored. At the same time, if the film had given more real estate to O’Neal over Hampton, it would have felt like a slight to the historical hero. If Judas’ only sin is making us crave more information on O’Neal...well, there are worse things a movie could do.

Gender: 3/5
Does it pass the Bechdel Test? NOPE

Hampton’s fiance Deborah Johnson (Dominique Fishback) and Black Panther Captain Judy Harmon (Dominique Thorne) are the sole significant women given space in this story—and not much space, at that. Fishback does her best to paint a full portrait of Johnson, who has continued her activism for social justice as Akua Njeri to this day after surviving the Massacre on Monroe. Guided by Njeri herself, Fishback brings dimensions to Johnson that aren’t in the screenplay. Reviewing the original script, she noticed that Johnson never reads a poem, despite being a poet. After she brought this to King’s attention, the director prudently invited Fishback to write the poem herself, which she beautifully performs in the film. But while the Judas team makes an admirable effort to do right by Johnson, the movie ultimately only cares about her in relation to Hampton, never exploring the passion for activism she’s held since age 12.

Harmon receives far less screen time relative to Johnson, but she does remain an important character. King illustrates her unmistakable value as a leader for the Illinois BPP, from when she ferociously interrogates O’Neal about a suspicious accusation against him to her fearless defense of the headquarters during a police shootout. Still, the film carries little interest in defining Harmon as anything more than a one-dimensional “strong Black woman,” a stereotype that feeds into a “silent mental health crisis” for Black women.

Race: 5/5

Above all else, Judas concerns itself with two Black men: Hampton and O’Neal. Hampton and his BPP comrades, who get their deserved reverence from the movie, strive to make the United States a better place for the oppressed. And then there’s O’Neal, a man who just wants to survive. Despite his obvious treachery, the film determinedly casts him not as an antagonist, but as a casualty of illegal FBI activity. The screenplay takes some artistic liberties with O’Neal’s story, but the basic facts (as best we know) of an FBI agent giving him the choice of going to jail or becoming an informant remain intact.

Judas refreshingly works to undo the false notions about the Black Panther Party imbued in many Americans by highlighting their social work. Whereas high school history courses tend to associate the BPP with “violence and racial separatism,” King references the Panthers' Free Breakfast For School Children Program (without which today’s federal free breakfast programs wouldn’t exist) and the multicultural Rainbow Coalition. In addition to showcasing the Panthers’ progressive ways, Judas provides context for the “violence” frequently associated with the group, demonstrating that the BPP only used force in self-defense. Bear in mind that these are only a few examples of how the film defends the Black Panthers’ legacy.

Another thing to love about Judas is that it’s now the first Best Picture Oscar nominee to have all Black producers: Shaka King, Charles D. King, and Ryan Coogler. The film’s fascinating origin story exemplifies the amazing work that happens when minority artists support each other, but also serves as a troubling reminder of the barriers Black stories must overcome to be made. Writers Keith and Kenny Lucas began pitching the story over 6 years ago, and it took capturing Shaka’s attention in 2016 for them to find an advocate. Once Coogler came on board three weeks after the release of his 2018 Black Panther film, Charles gave the screenplay a look and agreed to finance 50 percent. This brief synopsis doesn’t even cover the race-related obstacles that Judas’ development faced, which made Shaka realize that “even the math in Hollywood is racist.” One thing’s for sure: The film’s long and winding road to the big screen underscores the critical need for more people of color in Hollywood’s decision-making positions.

Mediaversity Grade: B+ 4.17/5

Movies can introduce you to people, places, ideas, or perspectives that you might not otherwise come across. Thanks to Judas and the Black Messiah, many viewers are meeting civil rights icon Fred Hampton and seeing the true nature of the Black Panther Party for the first time. I only hope that the next film about a remarkable human being, long-ignored by the history books, gets an easier path to the screen.

Like Judas and the Black Messiah? Try these other period films featuring Black political movements.

Grade: BLiApril 5, 2021Great for: Race