by Dennis Leroy Kangalee

In part one, I – rather admittedly – took an urgent tangential approach to analyzing Rustin. 

The movie’s shiny aesthetic and dandy approach to Bayard Rustin’s politics and the Civil Rights Era not only offended me, but it cleverly set up a mythic image of a man who was not nearly as pat and simple as the Rustin we saw. Myths are important, but only if they are made up. What movies and particularly “biopics” tend to do is lie.  And not even interesting lies.  While agendas and propaganda are innately part of art and its desire to seduce and entertain, Wolfe and Obama's collusion in creating a lie has to be recognized.  And while no one shall be able to make them pay for their sins, some of us should take our jobs seriously as critical thinkers and nudge the audience and participants alike in saying:  What was Rustin’s motivation, really? 

The film deals with a chapter in his life, the design of King’s March on Washington. Got it. But the film pretends that that is all Rustin achieved, advocated for and believed in.  If Wolfe had a serious interest in his subject, the movie would have been more open ended at least.  It needn’t even be “political” in the sense I would prefer…but it should have been honest to the contradictions, hypocrisies and enigmas of the man.  Great people are highly complex, a cauldron of seeming contradictions.  What if those contradictions are not incongruous at all, however?  What if they actually are - on the surface - who that person is? 

His alleged commitment to non-violence notwithstanding, Rustin was possibly the most complex figure to emanate out of the Black liberation movement.  The only other complex mainstream figure not considered a leader was his radical counterpart in a way – Eldridge Cleaver, the brilliant but warped Minister of Culture for the Black Panther Party for Self Defense. Cleaver was a brilliant writer and truly tragic individual.  However, he suffers too from the Left’s inability to engage with truth or at least explore truth’s variables (yes, there are actual variables of truth – but only in art!) in a given cinematic context: the bio-pic.  I don’t look forward to the Eldridge Cleaver movie any more than I would race to see Hollywood’s depiction of Frantz Fanon (could you imagine?).  But the politics of the Rustin movie overwhelmed me to the point of disgust in a different way.  Perhaps it was the method in which Wolfe transmitted his message.  Or maybe I was just too miffed about the Obama’s putting their saccharine folds into the mix. 

I don’t know which is more nauseating: the movie, Obama’s intro or the trite logline they used to fob the movie off movie onto unsuspecting Blacks and in fear of “not being woke audiences.”

When the gay affair rumors circulate about King and Rustin - or threaten to - the movie lapses into an odd dead tenor.  Already ironic and winking at the camera (as if Wolfe himself did not ever really believe in the film or believe his audiences would want to believe in the story he is telling) – the movie never finds its dramatic center. In fact what I find incomprehensible is Wolfe’s insistence that we don’t take anything really to heart. The movie’s factual references aside, the movie’s dramatic impact treads a thin line between sweet and sour.  Its self-satisfaction smothers and its fake candor is unimpressive and insulting. 

Because Rustin is gay, I feel Wolfe wants me to smirk at times or just concede to the whims of the film and accept that all criticism is verboten. 

I never felt the threat of Rustin’s queerness in the movie or really took it seriously. Wolfe and Domingo project a lot of Rustin’s confidence as cockiness; what should have been slightly campy is reduced to silliness.  Early on, there is so much winking at the camera that it betrays Rustin’s vulnerability and dimension as a thinker.  In fact, in reassessing both Rustin the man/activist and the movie, I realize maybe it is fair for us all to step back and admit what we all know far too well:  everything is Rashomon.

The movie does a good job at pathologizing anyone who disagrees with non-violent peaceful tactics as a technique for human reclamation and racial progress.  Against the backdrop of the 1960’s growing radicalism, it tries to shape the perception towards and of a Fanonian insurgent; one who believes in liberation at all costs.  Malcolm X made it clear he did not view the March on Washington as something that would really benefit Black Americans, he was suspect and disenchanted with the copious amounts of white liberal involvement. While Rustin and Malcolm's opposing views are well documented - they debated brilliantly in 1960 while Rustin was still Executive Director of the WRL (an abridged transcript is available here) - it is a marvel that there was even a time brilliant thinkers could just sit and talk and put forth their views, passionately and respectfully. To have debated Malcolm X as he approached his zenith is something no one else could have done.  Certainly not even MLK.  But the Rustin in the movie doesn’t seem like such a person and the film’s projection of character is a kind of dandy advocate of slow and steady wins the race. 

In 2024, while the movie’s pat neo-liberal conservatism is being firmly sold as “woke” (what isn’t?  Macy’s has had a red “revolutionary star” on its bag for years.  What does that tell you?) – it would be disingenuous and morally reprehensible to NOT view the film through the prism of the genocide taking place in Gaza.  And, quite frankly, simply the state of the world.  A cynic would say, “The only thing non-violence really got us was a holiday when we are supposed to commemorate a great humanitarian who was killed so we could have the right to give white people our money.”  Throughout his entire life, Rustin iterated his belief in nonviolence. And he was always adamant about Blacks not using (or supporting anyone else’s) justifiable violent means to defend themselves or rebel against acts of racist terrorism - but in scenes where he expresses exasperation at Blacks in Harlem who declare their preference for the gun - it all comes off as ridiculous. And not ridiculous to him. But to the viewer.

The movie is muddled with so many inconsistent details, inferences and outright falsehoods– that it's not lying to anyone, it is simply deluding people.  The dramatist exists to make something “other” than the “real facts,” they are there to serve the truth of the act.  It’s why filmmaker Stanley Kubrick said “The truth of a thing is in the feel of it, not in the think of it.”  If we use that as a criterion it becomes increasingly difficult to find honest movies.

Rustin, like the majority of bio-pics, contorts actualities - hard facts - with convenient miscarriages of truth.

A glaring one is how AJ Muste, the executive leader of Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR), a Christian pacifist organization that recruited Rustin in 1941 to mold the organization’s doctrines and programs of Non Violence and pacifist outreach, and Rustin’s personal relationship deteriorated in the movie with no real context or understanding. The complexity of their relationship was never mined. Rendered by Bill Irwin, one of the last modern stage fools, he gives a crusty, stodgy, stale embodiment of Muste. Why include Muste if their relationship would not be truly honored and explored?  Their nearly biblical relationship is written off as Muste’s pathologically missionary zeal to inform Rustin “why” he is gay (to get back at his mother he claims!) and becomes the center of their screen dynamic.  Muste’s paternalism, disgust at homosexuality and racial chauvinism is all very palpable…and if so, why would Rustin allow himself to be mentored by such a man?

The producers had other concerns - they believe if you overwhelm an audience with a lot of facts and rattle off the cast of characters that made up the subject's life – that this alone will impress and cause you to yield before the nonsense flickering before you.  While a lot of characters - real and imagined - flood the movie, it is impossible to gauge the impact of many of the authentic ones because of time.  (Very few filmmakers and very few movies in general can imbue a sense of meanings and relationships through a colossal directory of characters.  Some filmmakers do a fine job at that.  Robert Altman comes to mind.)

If Wolfe had employed his theatrical sensibilities better, brought his old knack for the stage back to cinema. Maybe something could have transpired, it would even have been acceptable to have fictitious characters who were a mélange of two or three people. Wolfe was more interested in devoting time to Rustin’s gay relationships than his political and personal ones. This is his second sin - and he is by no means the only director to sensationalize, exploit, focus and highlight the sexual interests of his subject.  Which would be fine in a compressed two hour movie if the hero’s sexuality had an impact on their political thinking.  I actually do believe there is an argument to be made for that, however we don’t see that on the screen.  And that’s all that matters here.  Had Wolfe explicitly connected the unnecessary gay dalliances in the film to Muste’s own homophobia (which contributed to the breakdown of their real-life relationship) that might have been interesting.  It would have made Rustin’s sexuality of vital interest simply to the telling of the story, the painting of the portrait.  Instead the mural was ruined by Wolfe stretching glow-in-the-dark tape on it.

Rustin employs an annoying convention by having the actors give their characters resumes in stilted dialogue (which could have been interesting if they addressed the camera and literally read their “credits” as opposed to trying to be realistic). An example of trying to cram too much into too little rears its head even small moments like this - when Rustin is questioned about the rumors between he and MLK, he says, “Oh, a lie perpetrated by Adam Clayton Powell.”  He would have just said “Powell.”  And in the film that one difference could have changed the impact of the scene.   (Note to filmmakers:  it’s ok if the audience doesn’t get everything the first time, it’s okay if they have to look people up.  Don’t they Google everything now anyways?)

Powell is portrayed by Jeffrey Wright, who looked like he was trying to find his way back to Westworld or made a wrong turn off a Wes Anderson flick.

While I believe we can all agree that there is a huge problem with Black period-pieces; Afro-hair wigs and even make-up at times (I’m serious, it deserves attention), a grave mistake was to allow the film to be so brightly lit.  It was as if the movie was a soap commercial.  It’s a point of contention because it usually means that the director doesn’t trust themselves, as if they are afraid they'll lose an audience if the movie gets too heavy or dark. Too dark?   It’s about a Black American maverick political organizer in one of the fiercest eras of the past hundred years.  Darkness is what Rustin and King and Malcolm X and Fannie Lou Hamer and the Black Panthers and more – were moving through. They created the light. All stars are, after all, shrouded in darkness.

An invaluable source during the writing of my “Rustin” essays was the collected letters of Bayard Rustin.  If one doesn’t want to go down the rabbit hole but wants a firm center in which to start as they learn more about who Bayard Rustin actually was and how vastly complicated he was versus the easy Disney version presented in the movie – I would suggest starting with this book, published by City Lights Books.  In letters to and from Rustin, his political thinking, ideas and debates are eloquently presented.  A fascinating discovery was just how paranoid and bothered he was by communism and how his pacifism comes off as more pathological than morally sound.  It’s possible that Rustin was a victim of his own non-violent zeal, especially as it pertained to BLACK people…He may have been an ideologue to his own detriment. So much so that one wonders if he owned the ideas…or if the ideas owned him?

The Elias Taylor (Johnny Ramey) creation (purely fictitious as far as I know) that was made to give us a window into the “complex” life of Rutsin’s gay inner life was trifling, but ironically staged well.  In fact the bathroom scene was reminiscent of Wolfe’s original staging of Angels in America on Broadway.  He opened a door onto something that ‘could have been’ but then closed it. It shows Wolfe’s ability to give us something curious and dramatic (a hallmark of Wolfe’s theatrical work) but here it fell flat because not only was it unnecessary, it didn’t really show anything novel about Rustin.  There is a temptation in bio-pics to do the opposite in fact, to prove how our icons or famous legendary figures are as trite or insecure or boring as the everyday person is supposed to be. But again, that is fallacious and forget about being insulting,  it simply deadens a movie into a cul-de-sac of which the only way to get out is to adhere to the clichés of the movies:  “Everyone just wants to be loved.”

The grit and anxiety of the times rarely comes through now in this Hallmark-greeting card/Netflix Civil Rights diorama. It’s a shame. Talented pathological liberal-racists like Martin Scorsese would have made a better movie.  That bothers me. Imagine: Jimmy Hoffa and Frank Sheeran had more interesting things to say than Rustin and A. Philip Randolph? How is that even possible?  Activists are intellectual gangsters.  That might be an interesting approach for a director. Too bad Wolfe didn’t consider this.

Some more things to consider:

●        Rustin’s confrontation with Wilkins (Chris Rock!) was impotent and silly. Wilkins’ fear and frustration at Rustin’s swagger and radical idealism feels “written” as opposed to being dramatically compelling. 

●        What could be more dramatic than the March on Washington? So why can’t we make a decent movie about it? (Maybe because it’s just that: dramatic. Not cin-e-matic.)

●        When Rustin goes to meet the National Park Service head and the rep doesn’t show and Chief Wells of Washington D.C. police is there instead insisting that Wilkins declare the March on Washington a “one day event” – the meeting turns ominous. However the scene does not. Wolfe should have snagged Oliver Stone’s old penchant for political intrigue and suspense.  When Domingo places the call to MLK wondering if Hoover was behind the threat – the tension should have been high. Instead it was lackluster.  And because we know the glories of that historic March in August of 1963, we don’t seem to care – Wolfe doesn’t seem to care - about the dark corner and winding roads Rustin took to help get us there.  You never feel anxious or galvanized watching Rustin.

Instead of overwhelming us with textbook-heading of facts – the script itself should have enabled a more ponderous movie; more keen to embrace dramatic moments that extend into truths.  The film should have had the conflict within a play and intelligent dialogue to complement it with.  Instead of drama, it reaches for an overabundance of facts from Rustin’s life - too many for a mere two hour film which already subjugates its subject and exploits his sexuality more than his devotion to human rights. Labor, racism, and justice were three testaments of his own holy triangle  - each representing a father, son, and holy ghost.

We don’t need ghosts however.  Those will linger no matter what. We do deserve dramatic depictions that are straight, succinct, and passionate.  Wolfe’s knack for theatrical device, understanding and inference was either forgotten, consciously not used or…ignored. A shame.  Because if Martin Scorsese could endow that other icon of labor Jimmy Hoffa (a violent man himself, mind you) with grandeur – the least we could have done for Rustin was grant him the same mystery.

My own criticism of his pathological Zionism notwithstanding, Bayard Rustin was an alarmingly huge character: an outsized personality, with the passion and commitment of a holy disciple, an outsider who was crazy enough to become an ultimate insider by the end of his life.  He deserves to have his story told, or rather, aspects of his story.  Again, like Rashomon – it may depend on the who and the why of the telling, but more importantly, what time of the day they are focused on.

A movie about your own life - at its basest, most boring – could bring splinters of wisdom to the hands of an audience in ways unlikely.  If I focus on the dimensions of your lunchtime success activity and the two hours of your entire life that you are best regarded –  it doesn’t mean that the dusk-time is not valid or that the shadows forming are not ones that you should be accountable for.

Bayard Rustin was an enormous thinker, organizer and activist of the 20th century.  But as I have come to learn in the arts, a talented person with backward thinking is more dangerous ultimately than he is good.  If only because it’s those few rotten thoughts that will linger, that will overwhelm anything good or decent. Like curdled cheese. So we take ten steps forward, twenty steps back.  That’s a hard lesson of life.  And our historical figures deserve this myriad, Shakespearean complexity.  It will be absolutely incredible when Wolfe and Domingo team up with Helen Mirren to do “Rustin/Meir” next.  Can you see the movie?  All about the famous meeting between Golda Meir and Bayard Rustin when they smoked cigarettes, made each other laugh, had a good cry…and agreed that salvation would come in the form of a missile against the Arab states outraged at Israel and the West’s imperialism. 

Rustin gave us the March on Washington.  He did.  And he was the one to prompt King to expand his vision of “civil rights” (discussing class later on and employment woes) King knew something Rustin probably could never reconcile: that America ultimately was doomed. 

I cannot help but view Rustin (like Eldridge Cleaver) as brilliant men too smart for their own good and too desirous of mainstream fame, power and acknowledgment. 

May our films be as complex as life.  Many of them are annoying.  But that is not good enough.

DLK

June 18, 2024