Meewella | Critic

According to P

Tag: John Boyega

QuickView: They Cloned Tyrone (2023)

“I ain’t scared. I’m a dope boy, remember?”

Fontaine

Juel Taylor’s directorial debut is a racially astute satire, exhibiting frequent tonal similarities with Boots Riley’s Sorry To Bother You. Anachronisms abound as the film’s entire visual style and its main characters — a drug dealer, a pimp and a sex worker — scream 1970s blaxploitation, yet the film is clearly set in modern day (Yo-Yo claims to be retiring to make money using blockchain). This commentary on the identity forced upon black communities is also what provides much of the entertainment, from the colour grading and artificial grain to the costumes and set design and, of course, the rhythmic patter of profanity-laden dialogue. John Boyega again proves his worth as a leading man, imbuing the taciturn Fontaine with considerable interior weight even as the film’s absurdity ramps up. He is every bit the equal of Jamie Foxx’s fur-trimmed flamboyance and Teyonah Parris’ charismatic street smarts in supporting roles. They Cloned Tyrone revels in conspiracy theories and racial stereotypes as its sci-fi Government plot unfolds, its gradual build making for a more satisfying, less jarring conclusion than Sorry to Bother You even if its social commentary is less precise.

7/10

QuickView: The Woman King (2022)

The Woman King poster

“We are the spear of victory, we are the blade of freedom, we are Dahomey!”

Nanisca

A historical epic about the Agojie, the all-women warriors of the Dahomey tribe, The Woman King follows in the wake of Black Panther in its celebration of vibrant African culture within a big budget action film. The focus on the training and exploits of these warriors against an existential threat to the Dahomey bears considerable similarity to 300 — there is breadth to the story if not depth. Thematically, The Woman King directly tackles the transatlantic slave trade and the murky lines in African complicity pressured by colonial incursion. The kinetic close-quarters combat is well choreographed, although frequent cuts around the battlefield can make the action hard to follow. It is always pleasing, however, to see darker skin tones shot well in low light. The Woman King‘s real strength lies in its performances, led by Viola Davis as the deeply conflicted general beneath her cold exterior, ably challenged by newcomer Thuso Mbedu. The slow start allows the development of the interrelated personal themes of pride — earned and demanded — and the attempt to sever oneself from a painful past. John Boyega is clearly in his element as the reformer king (putting aside questions of historical accuracy of the individual in favour of a more nuanced examination of slavery and colonialism). Historical epics were once a mainstay of tentpole summer releases, and The Woman King provides the essential ingredients of engaging personal stories within impressive sets and rousing battles.

8/10

QuickView: Red, White and Blue (2020)

Small Axe: Red, White and Blue

“Big change: that is a slow turning wheel.”

Kenneth Logan

The third of Steve McQueen’s Small Axe anthology, Red, White and Blue presents Leroy Logan’s decision to join the Metropolitan police in 1983 with the intention of changing the organisation from within. Like Logan, growing up I was taught to avoid any interaction with the police as it carried inherent danger; I was an adult before I realised that this advice was not universal but something that ethnic minorities taught children for their safety. This sets up his father’s dismay at his choice and the sense of betrayal felt by some of the community. John Boyega is a fitting choice to play Leroy Logan, having been outspoken about racial inequality and faced backlash as a result; as Logan he carries himself with a determined zeal which makes his righteous, unbridled outbursts at racist treatment from his fellow officers feel entirely genuine. McQueen doesn’t shy away from overt racism and violence, but also explores the more insidious side of institutional racism, wherein we — like Logan — become hypersensitive to the motivations of every officer and whether there are undertones to each question being asked. Superiors who may seem even-handed still close ranks to protect and promote white officers. The film is at its most powerful in portraying Logan’s isolation both within the force and within the community: one extended shot shows Boyega gazing out at an empty youth centre hall, unable to connect with the children he wants to help; in another he silently eyes his uniform, contemplating his choice and whether it makes him complicit; and later he sits alone in the locker room we have previously seen bustling, framed with deliberate awkwardness at the edge of the shot, staring off-screen. Thematically, it is telling that McQueen chose to focus on the early part of Logan’s career, with an ending showing only that he intends to persevere, reflecting the ongoing struggle to dismantle institutional racism.

8/10

Small Axe anthology: Mangrove | Lovers Rock | Red, White and Blue | Alex Wheatle | Education

QuickView: Star Wars: Episode IX – The Rise of Skywalker (2019)

Star Wars: Rise of the Skywalker poster

“This will be the final word in the story of Skywalker.”

Emperor Palpatine

The Rise of Skywalker is a bloated, unimaginative conclusion in which a lot of stuff happens but for no particular reason and largely without consequence. With JJ Abrams back at the helm, this all feels very familiar. I was forgiving to The Force Awakens‘ blatant retread of A New Hope because some nostalgic connective tissue was necessary to bridge the gap between old and new. If The Last Jedi was Rian Johnson’s response to this over-reliance on nostalgia and mystery boxes, looking to a future of fresh stories in this vibrant universe, Abrams uses the final film of the saga to reassert himself with disappointing results. He leans heavily on Return of the Jedi, restoring the importance of Rey’s heritage in an interesting twist, but the ultimate payoff is non-existent for such a central plot point despite all manner of ways it could have been satisfyingly concluded. Adam Driver’s Kylo Ren remains fascinatingly conflicted but the film’s most interesting character is largely wasted in this outing. The side-plots, often derided in The Last Jedi, feel even more perfunctory here. There are positives: the CG is first rate, Rey and Kylo’s scenes together are engaging, and children will probably be entertained. Meanwhile the returning characters from the original trilogy are relegated to trite, disjointed cameos (the subtler return of Wedge Antilles being the only truly welcome one). This slavish devotion to the past, coupled with setting a third of the film on desolate rocks, means the Star Wars galaxy has never felt so empty. This entire mess is ultimately Disney’s fault. Embarking on a trilogy in a $4 billion franchise without charting the major story beats in advance was an exercise in stupidity, particularly when compared to the carefully coordinated construction of Marvel’s Infinity Saga over 23 movies, but such is the way when strip-mining an IP for profit is placed above artistic merit.

5/10

"A film is a petrified fountain of thought."

(CC) BY-NC 2003-2023 Priyan Meewella

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