Hollywood sure loves to reinterpret history—and sometimes, it goes spectacularly off track. Take the 1992 film "Malcolm X," directed by Spike Lee, which portrays the controversial civil rights leader, Malcolm X, who was assassinated in 1965 in New York City. Based on the autobiography of Malcolm X—unapologetically ghostwritten, some might say, with a bias by Alex Haley—the film attempts to chart Malcolm X’s journey from street hustler to Nation of Islam minister to a more inclusive Islamic leader. And while it's cinematic, the film spins narratives that are as inflammatory as they are inspiring. This movie fits comfortably into the Hollywood tradition of inflating heroes on one side of politics while often ignoring others.
First and foremost, "Malcolm X" presents the man as a transformative revolutionary whose path to enlightenment and activism is both complex and shocking. Yet, like so many liberal messages across media, it seems that some inconvenient truths about Malcolm X’s own actions and philosophies are swept under the red carpet. The portrayal of Malcolm X's own radical views and the fact that he called white people "devils" at one point in his life is explored, yes, but somehow, in the film, it ends up feeling less damaging than labeling people publicly today.
The film shines a flattering spotlight on the Nation of Islam, an organization known for its aggressive stance against integration as well as its adherence to belief system quirks like UFOs and Yakub (if you're scratching your head, you're not alone). Malcolm’s gradual disillusionment and eventual departure from the organization are detailed, sure, but you have to wonder why more scrutiny wasn't leveled at the organization's controversial antics. Any attempt to hold them accountable in reality seems as lacking as a carb-free donut.
Now, some might argue that director Spike Lee did a great job presenting Malcolm X’s turn towards universal brotherhood after his pilgrimage to Mecca. However, others will contest that this redemptive arc sidesteps open questions about his other inflammatory positions. Oh, and those new friendships with non-black Muslims? They are depicted with such backtracking gloss that they almost seem to say 'never mind' about everything before it. The cinematic transition here uproots more than it landscapes, replacing debate with unquestioned redemption.
As for Denzel Washington, who plays Malcolm X—let’s just say the man can act. His portrayal captures the essence of Malcolm X’s charisma and his oratorical prowess. Indeed, Washington’s Oscar-nominated performance remains one of the film's most well-regarded aspects. Washington brings a complex but human character to life with unparalleled intensity. However, might there be a hint of irony here? By focusing on such theatrical flair, are we missing nuances in the real man's message?
What about the larger implications for black history and race relations? The film frames Malcolm X as a necessity forced by a broken system. This time capsule narrative from the '60s serves up social commentary meant to resonate then and now. However, the film sometimes fails to remind the viewers of the progress America has made—a progress stifled each time we're pulled back by echoes of a turbulent past.
For those who believe in the free market of ideas, this film almost seems to gatecrash the party with its own scripted agenda. With its dense runtime exceeding three hours, "Malcolm X" demands patience, if not leniency, from its audience. Its effort to unearth a controversial leader's story may win hearts in cineplexes, but it could use more bark than its silent bite.
"Malcolm X" exemplifies everything head-scratching about Hollywood’s attempt to politicize historical narratives. Its pre-built pedestal from the start ensures Malcolm X is victorious, if not vindicated, by the closing credits. An insightful if not worrying case of cinema reaching more for the ashes of controversy than the concrete of context. The impeccable direction and compelling performances don't necessarily veil the film's apparent contradictions or its missed opportunities for a rounded examination of a divisive yet pivotal historical figure.