“Do the Right Thing” Film Review

The name Spike Lee is essentially synonymous with films focusing on the complexity of racism in American society, from “Malcolm X” (1992) to “BlacKKKlansman” (2018), two portrayals of hatred on an epic scale. However, in his 1989 film, “Do The Right Thing,” Lee looks at the causes and effects of racial conflict on a smaller stage, choosing to focus only on a Brooklyn neighborhood, which acts as a microcosm of the United States as a whole. This is Spike Lee in miniature, but at his best and most complex, making it perfect as an introduction to his acclaimed filmography.“Do The Right Thing” takes place on the hottest day of the year in Bedford-Stuyvesant, a small, majority-Black New York neighborhood in the embryonic stages of gentrification. Lee spends most of the first part of the movie leading us through the sweltering landscape of brownstones and fire hydrants, introducing us to a colorful cast of characters. The film has a very inactive protagonist, Mookie, played by Lee himself, whom we follow around the neighborhood like his personal cameraman as he delivers pizza for Sal (Danny Aiello, earning himself an Oscar nomination for the role), an Italian-American man who operates the Bed-Stuy fixture Sal’s Famous Pizzeria with his sons Pino (John Turturro) and Vito (Richard Edson) in a plot that at first seems to be wandering around as aimlessly as Mookie. Along the way, racial tension grows with the heat until it reaches a tragic boiling point.That said, what makes “Do The Right Thing” special is that it doesn’t tell you what to make of the slowly built-up racial conflict it depicts: Lee presents us with a situation that is obviously wrong, but leaves us to point the fingers, every moment being left ambiguous in its cause and blame. Sal, the film’s most prominent white character, is someone we might expect to be an unhinged racist, but Lee writes him with as much respect and understanding as he does any of the film’s many Black characters, without discounting his prejudices. Sal hovers somewhere between his open-minded son Vito and his unequivocally racist son Pino. He’s happy and proud of the community his business depends on, but his own racist beliefs are harder to ignore as race relations deteriorate. In one darkly comedic montage, we see Mookie, Pino, a Korean shopkeeper, a policeman, and a Latino youth deliver verbose strings of slurs directly to the camera, addressed at each other, showing us that this is a setting connected by hatred in the most arresting way possible.Lee sets up the film in such a way that everyone will have a different opinion on who was wrong or right. Lee probably has his own interpretation too, but he doesn’t let it bleed into the movie. At the end of the day, it’s clear that what happens on that summer day in Brooklyn lies not just within the Bed-Stuy community, but outside it as well. Lee implies that the cause is a systemic hatred that is channeled through everyone and that hurts everyone. But this is only my interpretation. As I said before, everyone will have a different perspective on a movie that shows us that there isn’t always a right answer. If you want something to think about, spare 120 minutes to watch “Do the Right Thing.” Lee proves he is a master of filmmaking, using Dutch angles, fiery colors, and fluid camera movement to drop you into a world both larger than life and heartbreakingly realistic, as well as give you a movie-going experience you’ll never forget.

"Sorry to Bother You" Film Review

Bold, vibrant, and thought-provoking, Boots Riley’s debut feature “Sorry to Bother You” puts forward a passionate and unique view on the current state of U.S. racial politics and the economic system that leads to oppression. In a dystopian Oakland, Cassius Green (played by Lakieth Stanfield) is behind on his rent, and in an effort to ease the tension with his landlord, he gets a job as a telemarketer with an extreme caveat: He is paid by commission. With the help of an elderly gentleman, Cassius uncovers an uncanny ability to augment his voice in order to sound like a white “worry-free” individual. As the telemarketing company unionizes and Cassius works his way up the corporate ladder, things take an odd turn. Many of the film’s themes are impossible to analyze without spoiling the bold twists the movie takes, but its bombastic storytelling still offers plenty of insight. Boots Riley, the film’s director and writer, is an interesting character to say the least. A communist, hip-hop artist, writer, and protestor, Riley is a man who truly cares about what he preaches, his virtues evident in his unforgettable musical hits like “Your Parent’s Cocaine” and “Clap for the Killers.” He brings an unwavering passion toward Black liberation into every aspect of “Sorry to Bother You.” He doesn’t waste a single frame of his film because he is unsure if executives are going to cut his beautiful cinematic tirade short. His powerful storytelling and advocacy enhance the entire film. A group of high-level telemarketers, “power callers,” who sell slave labor and weapons of mass destruction must get into a building through a mob of angry union workers. One of these protestors films herself throwing a sharp, opened can of soda at one of the prestigious power callers. This clip goes viral on YouTube. Then, by the climax, the same, now viral woman who threw the soda can in protest of the rich elite, is recreating the scene in an advertisement for the soda company. This is in reference to the common practice of commodifying revolution, like how Apple creates deceitful racial equity initiatives while happily exploiting child labor in the Congo to mine cobalt. This criticism of modern consumerist culture takes up at most one minute of screen time total, a common pattern in this movie. But, Riley’s ability to jam-pack the film with symbol after symbol comes with a stipulation. The film lacks emotional depth — each character isn’t really a person so much as a symbol to drive yet another point home. This would be a problem if the film were a slow-burn drama, dependent on the emotional journey of the protagonist to hold the narrative together. However, this fast-paced, satirical, darkly comedic, science-fiction extravaganza is anything but that. What makes “Sorry to Bother You” work so well in comparison to its political satire contemporaries? A movie like “Don’t Look Up” also lacks emotional depth, preferring to use characters as two-dimensional symbols, but it’s a snoozefest that feels more like a lecture than a film. Instead, Riley punches you in the face with the point he’s making but does it in some of the most subversive and creative ways possible. While “Don’t Look Up” spends two hours and twenty minutes spoon-feeding you, “Sorry to Bother You” conveys its themes with seemingly surface-level symbols that intertwine into a thought-provoking narrative. From a voice augmentation superpower to a talk show where the attendee is gruesomely tortured for a live audience, “Sorry to Bother You” will show you the system is screwed while also taking you on a wild ride.