BlacKkKlansman (Spike Lee, 2018)

Aside from its other virtues, Spike Lee's newest film serves as a scathing antidote to everything that is wrong, morally and intellectually, with Green Book. That wretched artifact of blinkered white liberalism purports to explore the alienation of a black man, Dr. Don Shirley, from his own people. But it does so by claiming, insultingly, that a white Italian racist is more in touch with "blackness" (as defined, of course, by crass stereotype) than Shirley himself.

By contrast, BlacKkKlansman actually explores the conundrum of Ron Stallworth (John David Washington), the first black cop on the Colorado Springs P.D. His benignly racist superiors claim he could be "the Jackie Robinson of cops," with all the good and ill that implies, but Stallworth knows better. He has always wanted to be a police officer, despite the fact that it's the early 1970s and the height of the Black Power movement. He doesn't identify as a radical, but he never doesn't identify as black, and it's only after hearing a talk by Kwame Ture (Corey Hawkins) that he comes to see a conflict between his two primary identities. The brother, as they say, is talking sense, and this leaves Ron wondering where exactly he belongs.

So in a sense, going undercover to fight the Klan is more than an assignment against racist terrorism, although it certainly is that. It's a test case for Stallworth. Can the system ever possbily do anything good for the black community? Is change from within even possible? The fact that Ron's undercover persona is split between himself and his white Jewish partner Flip (Adam Driver) is more than a conceit or a convenience (or an inconvenience, as the case may be). It's a metaphor for Ron's double consciousness. And lest we miss the point, Ron's radical student girlfriend Patrice (Laura Harrier) cites W.E.B. DuBois for good measure.

Lee plays with the performative aspect of virulent white racism, having the vilest of epithets flying out of Ron's mouth when he's on the phone with Klansman Walter (Ryan Eggold) or, later, Grand Wiz...er, "Executive Director" David Duke (Topher Grace). The incongruity of Ron's "racism" demonstrates just how hard the white racists are trying to have an identity for themselves, to construct selves solely out of negative space. It is anti-racist satire that actually works, and only a seasoned pro and intellectual like Spike Lee could pull this off.

If BlacKkKlansman stumbles, it's in the finish line, when Patrice's own consciousness about "pigs" is raised by her relationship with Ron, who is always less than credible in their moments together. This, together with the CSPD's sudden sting operation to weed out a racist cop in their midst -- opting, for some unknown reason, to break the blue wall of silence -- seems more than a bit self-serving in Stallworth's own autobiography, and takes a film about fundamental, insoluble ambivalence and closes it on one clear side. See? Change is possible from within the system, some "pigs" have honor, and maybe we can all just get along. All we need to to is weed out the Trumpian racists. It's a nice sentiment, but it feels like a concession to the sort of b.s. that most of BlacKkKlansman has no time for.