Sonic Cinema

Sounds, Visions and Insights by Brian Skutle

Small Axe (TV)

Grade : A Year : 2020 Director : Steve McQueen Running Time : 5hr 53min Genre : ,
Movie review score
A

“Small Axe” is a limited series from Steve McQueen where he looks at flashpoints in modern British history when it comes to race relations. Just watching the first film in the series, “Mangrove” (A, 127 minutes long), McQueen’s work is immediately more compelling on the subject than a film like “The Trial of the Chicago 7,” which this one resembles in a lot of ways. That’s not surprising when you think about “12 Years a Slave” or “Widows” or “Shame,” movies that are perceptive in how they bring the story to life as they are exceptionally well-crafted. This is a must-see from one of the smartest filmmakers around.

In Episode 1, McQueen tells the story of the Mangrove 9. He starts by following Frank Crichlow (Shaun Parkes) to the restaurant he owns in Notting Hill, the Mangrove. He’s a rare black owner in this part of London, however, and it’s not long before he is constantly harassed by the white cops, and his establishment is popular with the black Caribbean residents in the area, including activists like Altheia Jones (Letitia Wright). The harassment never seems to end, but Frank is resolved to fight it, and stay open. One day, a demonstration happens outside of the Mangrove, and nine people, including Crichlow and Jones, are arresting and put on trial for inciting a riot. The film then becomes a courtroom drama, as we watch the defendants try and decide the best strategy with which to defend themselves, in a system, and setting, that feels immediately rigged against them.

The tension and energy of “Mangrove” is apparent from its opening sequence, and doesn’t relent until a closing that is both triumphant, as well as uneasy about what the triumph might mean. The characters and performances are immediately compelling and hold us every step of the way, including a police officer whose reaction to what he saw is determined more of what he might have seen instead. This is a powerful and electric opening salvo for McQueen to make as he goes further into showing how the struggle over racial discrimination was not just an American one.
After the suspense and drama of “Mangrove,” “Lover Rocks” (A, 80 minutes long) is a welcome respite. It’s not without drama in its own, but the 70 minutes of this film is much more relaxed, and thus, feels like a celebration of the triumphs over the battles fought in “Mangrove.” That doesn’t mean the black Caribbean residents of London are not still dealing with inherent bigotry, though, and it’s telling that this story is a fictional one after the real-life story of “Mangrove”- I think that is McQueen’s way of acknowledging that, for immigrants or minorities, any wins in the face of discrimination appear to be fleeting, and not quite real, especially if they only close the gap towards equality marginally.

“Lover Rocks” takes place on a Saturday in the 1980s- we know it’s a Saturday, because the very last scene is of one of the people at the party, having just gotten home and in bed, is awoken for church. A community of black residents is preparing food, and music, for a party in a house. We occasionally see some of the white neighbors outside, and sometimes, when the partiers stray too far from the house, they can be harassed, but some of the men at the party are plenty capable of doing that themselves. Once the evening arrives, it is a night of community, music, relaxation, and romantic possibilities, some requited, some not so much. Just listening to the music alone keeps us watching this film.

Co-written by McQueen and Courttia Newland, this is as laid-back a film as any filmmaker has put out this year. The music puts us in a trance, almost, as we just move along the party as songs switch out, character dynamics change, we see moments of sweetness as well as moments of rage-inducing decisions. In the house, these characters seem safe; outside, the dangers heighten. There’s a beauty to how effortlessly engaging and engrossing this film is, and it shows that “Small Axe” has McQueen operating on a different, unexpected storytelling level.

In “Red, White and Blue” (A-, 80 minutes long), McQueen returns to telling true stories in showing us Leroy Logan, a research scientist who joins the police force after his father is assaulted by two officers. He wants to join the force as a way of combating systemic racism and prejudice from within, but needless to say, that is easier said than done.

The structure and order of these films is critical to their collective impact. Even thought we go back in time to even before the events of “Mangrove,” McQueen is showing how, even if it seems like greater equality has been earned after those events, progress is still slow moving, and comfort does not always mean things are comfortable. After the relative relaxation of “Lovers Rock,” “Red, White and Blue,” which is anchored by strong performances by John Boyega as Leroy Logan, as well as Steve Toussaint as his father, Kenneth, who cannot believe his son would join the very system which is harassing him with no cause.

Telling Logan’s story within the context of this larger examination of racial prejudices allows McQueen to show us what it is like for officers like Logan within the system. Seen as betraying those whom are oppressed by the people in the community, and not treated with respect by those they work with, Logan and a Pakistani officer are resented by their peers, to the point where their lives are put at risk through their fellow officers’s inaction. The film on its own has the feel of a relatively standard biopic, but when taken in the larger context of “Small Axe,” there’s a sense of purpose and potency to its narrative.

Alex Wheatle is an outsider to this community when he arrives as a teenager/young adult. He’s spent most of his childhood in a children’s home, and without a sense of belonging. By the early 1980s he is living in a hostel in Brixton in South London, and has founded the Crucial Rocker sound system, and become a DJ. In 1981, he participates in the Brixton riots, and it is when he is imprisoned for his part in them when we first meet Alex (Sheyi Cole) in “Alex Wheatle” (B+, 66 minutes long), the fourth chapter of the “Small Axe” anthology.

Taken individually, “Wheatle,” co-written by McQueen and Alastair Siddons, is the least compelling of the “Small Axe” films. Cole doesn’t have the natural presence Boyega does as Leroy Logan, and it seems to end rather abruptly, rather than finding a strong resolution to Wheatle’s story as part of the larger narrative McQueen is weaving with these films. It’s still a compelling narrative, though, and it still adds another layer to the larger fabric of McQueen’s series by showing us the perspective of an outsider who becomes ingratiated in this community of West Indian immigrants in England. That is an interesting mirror to watch after “Red, White and Blue,” in which a member of the community becomes seen as an outsider because of the life he chooses.

“Small Axe” ends with “Education” (A+, 63 minutes long), and it brings the series to a close with a story of painful truth being revealed to two East Indian parents in London through the story of their son, Kingsley (the fantastic Kenyah Sandy). We first see Kingsley looking up at the stars at an observatory, and he dreams of going into space- he loves the idea of exploring the cosmos, which is noticeable by the model rockets he has in his room at home. Watching him at school, however, it’s unsure whether he can even read, and he acts out in class, and is often in trouble. His home life is not better; while his parents (Sharlene Whyte and Daniel Francis) do want what is best for him, he doesn’t really speak up about the issues he has at school, so his parents don’t know what is wrong with him. Kingsley’s mother gets called into the principal’s office for a meeting; Kingsley is not cutting it at the regular school, so he is going to get sent to a “special” school that is more conducive to his needs. It’s further away, but there’s a bus that leaves from his regular school to take him, and bring him back. On the first day of seeing the school, though, it’s basically a place to house kids who just aren’t up to speed, without really teaching them anything. With a chance encounter with a child psychologist, however, Kingsley might start to see the enormity with which the system has failed him, and his parents might understand, as well.

Every emotion and idea of systemic oppression we’ve experienced in “Small Axe” is on display in the 63 minutes of “Education,” and it is as cathartic a conclusion as anyone could have come up with. McQueen is illuminating us not just to British discrimination of its black population, but America’s, and really, every Western country where the descendants of slaves have had to work harder just to get a portion of what white people get, all while being discriminated against at every turn. The principal at Kingsley’s school is just another authority figure wielding power over Kingsley’s future, making it as difficult for him as possible, like the police officer’s in “Mangrove.” Hearing Kingsley’s father talk about how his son could just come work with him at his menial job, how he doesn’t need an education, is to hear someone who’s been gaslit to think they cannot accomplish more in life, which is not to say that Kingsley’s father shouldn’t be proud of his work, but that one would hope he could be supportive of his son’s higher ambitions which are being squashed by the system; it reminds you of the complicated father-son relationship in “Red, White and Blue.” His mother’s awakening to the ways the system has stacked the deck against not just her son, but her, as well, is reminiscent of Alex Wheatle’s awareness of just how much the system doesn’t care about him. The ending, though? That’s a return to the hope and sense of community and love we experienced in “Lovers Rock”; after the journey Kingsley has been on, one that has left him embarrassed and feeling like a bit of an outsider even in his own home, with no one to really confide in, his parents understand what he’s been through, and he’s found teachers who will do more than just force him to conform, but teach him, and unlock his potential. The battle is not done, though, but kids like Kingsley will be in a much better position to fight it.

“Small Axe” is one of the most significant cinematic accomplishments of the year- how I would love to experience “Lovers Rock,” in particular, in a theatre- and its structure as a series of movies made for television doesn’t change that. Each one of these films could stand on their own, and be seen as a worthwhile film to watch. But like Krzysztof Kieslowski’s “Dekalog,” its collective impact is greater than the sum of its parts. Also like “Dekalog,” I think, as time goes on, and more people discover it, “Small Axe” will be seen as an accomplishment that transcends how it was released, and simply as a great piece of art. It deserves such consideration.

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