MALCOLM X: Spike Lee’s Symbol of Hope and Guidance
universalEver since his death, and during much of his life, Malcolm X has been all but shunned in the American education system; his name has become synonymous with hate, violence and the wrong way to do things. At the same time, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s name has been lionised in the history books, his teachings and lessons on non-violence becoming the face of the civil rights movement, presumably because they did not offend white people. This is an unfortunate case of “history is written by the victors” that Spike Lee attempts to correct in his 1992 film, Malcolm X. The director takes a formally conventional route in order to make the film as palatable as possible to as many people as possible, with the goal of humanising a man whose life and legacy have been demonised.
At the end of the film, after X has been assassinated, an excerpt from a eulogy given by Ossie Davis is played over documentary footage of the real-life Malcolm X. The eulogy, which is an undeniably powerful speech, turned out to be prophetic in at least one regard. Davis, an actor and activist, said this about Malcolm X’s legacy: “There are those who will consider it their duty, as friends of the Negro people, to tell us to revile him, to flee, even from the presence of his memory, to save ourselves by writing him out of the history of our turbulent times. They will say that he is of hate – a fanatic, a racist – who can only bring evil to the cause for which you struggle!”
These words, spoken in 1965, sadly still ring true today, as the man at the center of Lee’s film has been condemned by most white Americans for allegedly advocating for violence and treating all white people as guilty before proven innocent. His views, which were far less incendiary than the media make them seem, were often the subject of controversy; for this reason, his legacy is glazed over in American schools. Students are taught to see X as the antagonist to Dr. King’s heroic figure and to ignore his rhetoric as vitriolic and sweeping hate speech against innocent white people. And lastly, young people in America are taught that X had no impact on the civil rights movement – that he was a mere blip in the system and real change was only affected by peaceful protests led by Dr. King.
Today, this is still the legacy of Malcolm X as taught in schools, but not for lack of trying on the part of Spike Lee. His film, which had been a passion project since his NYU film school days, is as much a history lesson as it is a biopic. It was meant to correct a skewed perception of Malcolm X in the minds of its audience, and in Lee’s craft, this fact becomes self-evident.
Malcolm X is a sprawling, massive epic that aligns with the style of classic historical biopics of the past like Lawrence of Arabia, Patton and Gandhi. It is long, three hours and 22 minutes, featuring an enormous and star-studded ensemble cast – Christopher Plummer and Giancarlo Esposito play bit parts – and is stylistically limited so as to be straightforward and accessible for the masses.
And so, like the films it most closely resembles, Malcolm X, too, has flaws. Its many narrative digressions are often long and tedious, in its attempt to encapsulate an entire life, the forest is sometimes missed for the trees and narrative momentum is stopped in its tracks by a lack of flare. But these are necessary evils due to the film’s subject. Malcolm X’s ideas were already hard enough to swallow for white people that if Lee’s film was any more artsy, it would not have reached the audience that it did. The true history of X and his ideas was too important to be conveyed in a way that was at all inaccessible. To share his story with as many people as possible and correct common misconceptions about the man, Lee had to tone down his usual style and make a form-fitting biopic. On a more subconscious level, creating a film that resembled older movies about renowned historical figures could also reinforce the idea that X was as important, if not more important than T.E. Lawrence, George Patton or Mahatma Gandhi.
However, just because Malcolm X is, from a filmmaking standpoint, a more or less ordinary biopic does not mean there are extraordinary moments contained therein. The opening, which unintentionally mirrors the opening of Patton with its speech given over the background of an American flag, is a fiery introduction to X and clearly lays out his most controversial beliefs about the white man. Two montages at the end of the film, one set to Sam Cooke’s "A Change Is Gonna Come" and the other to Davis’ aforementioned eulogy, move the film out of its self-imposed doldrums and into the realm of the ethereal. X is forever immortalized in these beautiful, memorable moments. And over the course of the film, despite its ups and downs in terms of pacing, a clear picture is drawn of a man who staunchly defended his beliefs but was also willing to change them whenever he reached an epiphany. If nothing else, the film makes clear that X was a vital figure to Black America, and even if he isn’t taught in schools, anybody who watches the film will know that he should be.
Later on in his eulogy, Davis asserts that if X’s naysayers actually talked to Brother Malcolm, ever touched him or really listened to him, they would know why he must be honored. And that is the heart of Lee’s film. In a way, it serves as its own eulogy to the man because anybody who watches it will come away feeling as if they've actually talked to Brother Malcolm, touched him and listened to him.
Perhaps, when the film came out, America was not ready to embrace X for the heroic man and everlasting symbol that he was. Maybe, after the nationwide protests over the deaths of Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, America is prepared to rediscover Lee’s film and the man who was its subject. Maybe, just maybe, America is finally ready to incorporate the teachings of Malcolm X into its schools.
