Red, White and Blue (2020, Steve McQueen) (Patreon)

71/100

Because I pay virtually no attention to movie news, and almost never look at reviews in advance, my first indication that a film is fact-based often comes from the existence of an article breaking down its authenticity. In this case, I saw (but did not read, until afterward) a Slate piece with the headline "What's Fact And What's Fiction in Red, White And Blue," accompanied by juxtaposed photos of John Boyega and the real Leroy Logan. And it's no small compliment to McQueen and his cowriter, Courttia Newland, that my first thought, as the end credits rolled, was to wonder what the hell that article could possibly address. At no time does this feel "Based on a true story" in any of the standard, maddening ways—it's too low-key, too uneventful, too ordinary. Which is exactly the right approach for a portrait of one man's quixotic effort to improve the system from within. Logan serves much the same function here that Emily Blunt's character does in Sicario, except pivoting on race rather than gender, and with no realistic possibility of any viewer identifying with the wrong people. (Certainly we won't get a shitty sequel about Logan's condescending superior officer.) We just watch his good intentions gradually crumble into dust, until he's reduced to expressing a sense of defeatism so profound that the movie just abruptly stops. Gutsy move to end on that note, without the slightest hint of a dawning revolution, or even of basic resilience. In real life, Logan remained a cop for decades—this was merely the beginning of a lifetime's struggle—but McQueen and Newland don't bother to tell us that, because it's not remotely important to the very specific and defiantly small-scale (but not particularly episodic or televisual, in my opinion) "story" they're telling. Which has an identifiable trajectory but precious little else that a screenwriting guru would dictate. 

As I noted when writing (less favorably) about Mangrove, this very much reflects my own preferences—or bias, if you prefer. I like my (dramatic) protagonists deeply conflicted, and Boyega does a masterful job of delineating Logan's varied responses to remarks and behavior covering the entire spectrum of institutional racism, while also constantly reminding us that this young man sees his own father's worst nightmare every time he looks into a mirror while wearing his uniform. Blatantly reprehensible antagonists tend to...not bore me, exactly, but they foster an environment too morally straightforward to be of much interest; while we do get some outright hatred here (to which Logan responds with credible fury), it registers as uncontrolled outgrowth of a more pervasive belittling that could reasonably be deemed largely unconscious. To my mind, the most chilling example—precisely because it's so bland—involves Logan's two visits to the aforementioned superior's office. (I guess he's an Inspector, judging from the cast list.) Logan comes in confrontational the second time, and the Inspector, resentful of being challenged, humiliates him by making him wait to be formally dismissed. But that had already happened in their previous scene together, minus the staredown. Same lengthy, pregnant pause—during which Logan clearly has no idea what's expected of him, while the Inspector, his face buried in Logan's paperwork, seems to have temporarily forgotten that its subject is right there in the room—followed by a curt and genuinely dismissive “Dismissed.” One is more obnoxious (verging on sadistic) than the other, but they're both fundamentally dehumanizing, and the passive version is arguably more destructive, even as it appears more innocuous. McQueen gets a tad blunt at times—I didn't need the flashback to Dad standing motionless in the washroom following the settlement offer—and there are a few pointlessly weird shots, e.g. the one that for some reason captures Ken Logan's truck pulling into its fateful parking space from such an extreme low angle that all we can initially see is its sideview mirror floating in the sky. But I'd still call this not merely the best Small Axe film I've seen so far, but the best Steve McQueen film since...well, Bullitt.