How Amandla Stenberg’s new film fits into the current political climate Find
when you get to the second half the hatred you give, You will be afraid to laugh at the funny parts. Movies rarely take you on a journey through moments of warmth and humor — and then, just when you feel safe, encounter very real pain and fear.
Based on Angie Thomas’ youth novel of the same name, the film takes an ironic approach, choosing to address the thought-provoking realities of race relations head-on. In the first scene, the camera pans across a classic all-American bustling street. A group of children played ball in the middle of the road outside, when the audience’s attention was diverted from the windows of a pale yellow colonial-style home with porches and pillars. In the dining room, a father is “talking”. He put his hands on the table and showed younger children what to do when they saw the police. As they stared at him with their hands on the table, the moment marked their innocence cut off. They’re obviously scared, but he’s doing it for their safety, and while that means the movie starts badly, it’s an intentional insinuation. This is not a movie that shuns uncomfortable moments.
thug Bringing the Black Lives Matter era to the screen. In a difficult balancing act, it manages to deliver a message that is less didactic and uses black pain as a means to inspire collective action rather than just as a shocking spectacle. Amandla Steinberg leads the film with her chilling portrayal of the protagonist Starr. Her life is forever changed (and the audience is paralyzed) when her childhood crush, Khalil, is shot dead by police for carrying only a hairbrush. Aside from being a harrowing and very familiar scene, this marked a moment when it became increasingly difficult for Starr to keep her world apart. The film follows Starr as she questions how she can put up with a very public fight for justice and keep her palatably black at school, once her classmates know she’s from a place where her friends were shot by gangs or police— — and she witnessed both.
Although the fact that the filmmakers chose a light-skinned protagonist caused initial controversy, Steinberg was a perfect fit for the role and wouldn’t downplay the protagonist’s experience. Starr’s world is full of contradictions; she doesn’t feel comfortable anywhere. Far from the strict teachings of her Black Panther father about black empowerment and pride, she spent most of her life avoiding slang around her privileged white friends who spoke in blaccents for fun in case they thought she was Too ghetto for her Williamson private school. Out of fear of being judged, Starr chose to hide her white boyfriend Chris from childhood friends, lest her interracial relationship lead them to think she had completely abandoned her black identity. As she put it in the back seat of her prom boyfriend’s limo: “When I’m at home, I can’t be too Williamson; when I’m here, I can’t be too (the troubled community) Garden Heights.”
Every black moviegoer will identify with Starr’s code-switching. Honestly, most black people do it—whether it’s navigating super white spaces at work or trying to fit in a predominantly black space.always what to expect from black people should Yes, there are situations that require you to adapt to that pattern, or something completely different.
In addition to personal balancing acts, there is the political climate we are in that forces people to be one thing or the other. These are times of extreme polarization, and sometimes the nuances that make us who we are can be erased. Nothing underscores this more clearly than Kahlil’s story. In this film, we see his sweet demeanor, his style, his love of ’90s rap, and Tupac’s beliefs – that’s the name of the movie and book. (thug Life On behalf of The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everyone. ) Once he was killed by the police, the media and white bystanders reduced his character to a drug dealer.
Russell Hornsby, who plays Starr’s father, Mavericks, is another example of a versatile black character in the film, as he portrays a much-needed black male role model — something the mainstream lacks. He’s not usually portrayed as a gun-toting, white-hating extremist like many of the Black Panthers in the movie.Think back to the awkward party Forrest Gump, Jenny and her boyfriend got into an argument when the Panthers aggressively screamed “pigs” and “whites” in Forrest’s ears. By contrast, Starr’s father was calming and protective. Rarely do you see a film brave enough to showcase the community and family-centered nature of the Panthers.
“This is not a movie that avoids uncomfortable moments”
Over the past few years, films have featured addressing the lack of positive imagery of black people in films by completely subverting dialogue and mocking white characters.There’s a white family inside go out; the colonists were black panther; inappropriate white friend girls trip. exist thug, White characters are complex—mostly, their narratives guide how (and how not) to be a good asset to the Black Lives Matter movement when you’re not black. Starr’s sneaker-clad, arrhythmic boyfriend cringes as he dances and raps, but his willingness to learn how to be a good ally is entirely positive.
The source of most of the comedy is Starr’s unknown best friend Haley, who loves her approach to the dark until Time to learn what Black Lives Matter really is. For example, she felt that sharing a photo of Emmett Till on Tumblr was a bit excessive, and she made it clear that she had little sympathy for the drug dealer who was shot. It’s becoming clear to Starr that they can only hang out when she cuts herself, which could send home a lot of people who have had to cut off their problematic white friends.
the hatred you give It gets the current political climate right because it doesn’t rely on metaphors; instead, it bravely chooses to explore the complex and multifaceted facets of black American identity.Uncle Carlos of Starr (by Common) is a respected officer in the force and in the community, but he has faith in the system.Later in the film, he admits to Starr that even though he Nervousness when dealing with young black men during arrest and more likely to be shot. It’s painful, not only because he’s a father figure, but because the filmmakers are again forcing us to confront some ugly truths about systemic racism. (This feels even more relevant in the wake of the recent viral video of Arthur Williams, a black Baltimore officer, repeatedly beating a black man.)
Kahlil’s story doesn’t get a happy ending, as the film doesn’t try to hide the grim reality. Although fictional, many of the film’s scenes could have been documentary footage of the 2014 Ferguson, Baltimore, or Baton Rouge riots the following year. As a viewer, you’ll also see that when it comes to racial justice, it’s not as clear as for and against, or black and white. We learn to understand that some heroes are flawed—its realism lies even in the nuances of its villains.
thug gives us a fictional story that we can use to deal with real-life events. It’s an important coming-of-age story because the protagonist learns to use her voice despite the obstacles she faces — obstacles that many other black viewers will recognize. the hatred you give Crucial, because it’s not just about giving Starr his place in the world; it’s also giving young people the tools to understand how they can resist.