The Genius of One Night in Miami...
I have heard screenwriter Kemp Powers in interviews speak on how his script for One Night in Miami... humanizes these four larger-than-life figures, the “Black Avengers”: Cassius Clay, Malcolm X, Jim Brown, and Sam Cooke. Powers emphasizes that humanizing an icon is not just exposing their flaws. It is instead portraying these famous characters as people we might recognize in our own friends and family. Powers did this brilliantly with all four men in his script, but I was especially moved and impressed by his representation of Cassius. In the film, Cassius isn’t yet the Muhammad Ali we would come to know. He is a 22-year-old kid, barely younger than me, struggling to make the most important decisions in his life. Being young and making decisions that feel monumental—this is an experience I relate to immensely. This is a crazy thing to say, that I relate to Muhammad Ali, but it speaks to Powers’ ability to make Cassius feel real. Just because his decisions are played out on the public stage doesn’t mean that the audience can’t empathize with the internal struggle that led him there.
On my first viewing of the film, I admit that, like some critics, I found the middle section to be quite “stage-y” since we spent such a long time in one space with heated dialogue. However, after some reflection and a second viewing, I have now become convinced that a film adaptation of a play, especially a film adaptation of this play, doesn’t need to pretend it never was performed on stage. By starting with the characters in different places, then forcing the audience to sit still with them in the hotel room, the film best allows us to focus on the arguments being put forward. We know where each character is coming from in their hotel discussions, and the film gives us the time to sit with that, to see all sides of the argument, to see all sides of the characters. It makes sense to address these themes directly since the intersections of social responsibility, celebrity, and friendship are rarely laid out so clearly. I think this is part of what makes the film so powerful—we recognize that the themes and points of conflict are relevant to our current society, but we haven’t often heard the arguments fleshed out so clearly and compellingly. The script’s genius comes from the quality of this central debate. Does “pissing people off,” as Sam accuses Malcolm of doing, help your cause? Is it productive to make your enemies angry, to make your friends angry? I see Sam’s perspective clearly as he purports these ideas, speaking of his creative and economic control in his industry. Yet, when Malcolm grows more emotional in his response, saying that “our people are dying in the streets every day,” I was gripped with emotion. What is owning your masters if you’re not alive to spend that money?
The complexities of the relationships feel genuine as well. For example, when we are focusing on the faults of one friend, as Malcolm does with Sam, we may overlook the faults and struggles of another friend. At one point in the film, Malcolm explicitly says that Jim doesn’t bite his tongue. Director Regina King rightly cuts to Aldis Hodge on this line. Both Jim and the audience know Malcolm’s statement isn’t true—we just saw Jim bite his tongue with Mr. Carlson (Beau Bridges).
There are additional directorial choices from Regina King that stood out to me. While her hand is subtle, the shots and moments that caught my attention were truly stunning. When Jim Brown is conversing with Mr. Carlson in his opening scene, the camera watches them talking through the window from inside the house. With this shot, we, the audience, are able to enter Mr. Carlson’s house, but Jim cannot. I also loved the overhead shot of the boxing ring after Cassius’s win, which is paralleled by the overhead shot of Malcolm’s car as he, Jim, and Cassius exit in the hotel parking lot. The characters are entering a different type of boxing ring, replacing the punches with words. In addition, King brilliantly frames Malcolm on the roof as he reveals to the other men that he is expecting and preparing for his death by writing an autobiography. Right next to Malcolm’s face we see fireworks exploding. Celebration and spectacle coexist with death in the shot.
I also think that King perfectly balances the tension of an external threat. There is a sense of dread that permeates throughout the film. This ominous mood helps the audience understand the urgency of the hotel room discussions because we know those men are being watched at that very moment. There are genuine elements of horror there—we know the “bad guys” are out there, but it is hard to know where they are and when they might attack. The tension breaks beautifully into melancholy in the closing scene when Sam sings “A Change is Gonna Come,” and we see Malcolm fleeing his burning home with his family. Despite knowing the tragedy, I still gasped with surprise and sorrow when the Molotov cocktail hit the floor of Malcolm’s home.
My only real complaint with One Night in Miami... is a desire for a bit more historical explanation. I attended public school in a conservative, nearly all-white area. Needless to say, my civil rights education was, to put it nicely, lacking. While I continue to learn, I know that there are others who need to learn even more. I think this film is a great resource, but there are a couple of confusing points for someone who is not well versed in the Nation of Islam or the exact timeline of the movement. For example, I did not know that Sam Cooke died later that year until I read his biography after viewing the film. I wish that fact had been included in the ending along with Malcolm’s quote.
