The Revision of Malcolm X
An essay on Spike Lee’s Epic
The American flag fills the entirety of the screening, looming almost as a threat. After a few moments, live-footage of the Rodney King beating cuts into frame. Over the next minute, the American flag burns and the footage continues. The final image of the introduction transforms into the remnants of the flag, burned into a monolithic ‘X’. Spike Lee has the uncanny ability to bring one into a film with such an immediate, ferocious, iconic image. After the next three hours and twenty minutes, I am struggling for words to describe this sweeping epic of Malcolm X, a man so important to the world, a man with unmatched intelligence, a man misunderstood by history.
From the angle of film, Malcolm X is absolutely seamless. Spike Lee holds a story of a man’s entire life, a sprawling account from adolescence to adulthood, ignorance to understanding. With such a challenge set at his feet, Lee handles the epic with stunning detail and care. Never once did the film lose its place in time, nor was it ever burdened by slow story motion. Through Lee’s structure, we learn about characters, leave them for a time, and come back to them to watch their changes. For most biographic features, this method of storytelling often leaves the film in shabbles, dumbfounding the audience. Lee, however, has a clear grasp of a story — although focusing on one character in particular — that involves several characters that permeate on-screen and off-screen. Just take a look at Do the Right Thing and Lee’s control of a story becomes vibrant. My favorite example of this character development in Malcolm X occurs with the West-Indian numbers boss, Archie, in Harlem. When Malcolm first comes in contact with him, Archie is a brash character, full of charisma, but also full of adrenaline and anger. Malcolm, at this time, is almost the same, a young man full of exuberant charisma and a head of misplaced ideals. We then leave Archie for a time, as Malcolm becomes imprisoned, learns the teachings of Elijah Muhammad, and becomes a minister of the Nation of Islam. After these events, Malcolm hears about the old crew he ran away from, hearing about Archie’s decaying life. Malcolm goes to see Archie. Archie, unlike Malcolm, has not changed. He has become a junkie, engulfed in excess and succumbed in the streets. This relationship with Archie not only expresses the changing lives around Malcolm, but also shows the paths that Malcolm may have fallen to. Even more, these relationships express Malcolm’s growing compassion and understanding, as Malcolm comes back to support (or try to support) those from his past.
Then, we come to Denzel Washington. In the present-day, it is easy for us to take for granted the magical powers Washington has on-screen. Yet, when you watch a three-hour epic, where Washington never once lets the foot of the pedal, it is difficult to exaggerate how lucky we are to have a man of his ability. Washington’s portrayal of Malcolm X remains one of the greatest performances in film history. From street hustler to civil rights leader, Washington portrays not only the strength, but also the vulnerability of Malcolm. During the latter half of the film, Washington demolishes the screen with fiery speeches and incredible charisma. At the same time, in the sanctum of the home, Washington expresses Malcolm’s doubts, his fears of overstepping the Nation of Islam, his fears for his family, and his remembrances of his dark past. There are only a handful of actors that can portray the breadth of a figure quite like Denzel Washington (and he may be the only one that can do it so well). In his performance of Malcolm X, Washington culminates what made him such a leader, such a charismatic figure, but also what made him a human being.
Above all else, Malcolm X is a cultural monolith, a film needed desperately now just as in 1992. The beginning of the film could easily be intercut with images of Michael Brown, Alton Sterling, or any horrific number of the young black men and women who have been taken away at the hands of racist police, a police perpetuated by a still ever-present racism in the United States. On another account, Lee creates a story void of bias. As Roger Ebert put it in his essay on Malcolm X, “Every Lee film is an exercise in empathy.” Lee does not pick a side, but rather allows the audience to come to their own judgements, not leaving any piece of the story off-screen. This moves to the final, most important takeaway I had from Malcolm X : the film — and Lee’s telling of it — is a piece of revisionist history. Through the classes and textbooks of U.S. History, I was fed fallacy and one-sided lies about Malcolm X. He has been labeled a hate-monger, a racist, a supplier of violence, always counter-opposed to Martin Luther King Jr.. Malcolm, however, was anything but. He was a man who learned, a man who conquered his past, a human-being full of beautiful flaws and unlimited promise. Ultimately, he was a leader committed to peace, committed to justice, committed to a better world. In Malcolm X, I saw a role-model, a man and a set of ideals I could reach for. Here lies the power of the film, the power of Spike Lee, Denzel Washington, the crew of Malcolm X, and the power Malcolm still has on the people of today. Long Live the Man and the Message of Malcolm X.
Peace,
Austin Anthony Good
