Whose Lives Really Matter?
By: Adaugo Pamela Nwakanma and Azmera Hammouri-Davis
“For the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” — Audre Lorde
Most Americans know that Black people are policed, jailed, and killed at rates disproportionately higher than any other group in the United States. What remains to be captured, however, are consequences for the people who perpetuate the white supremacist system. Beyond showing the complexities of seemingly contradictory identities through the person of Alicia West (Naomie Harris), Black and Blue paints a portrait of the mental, emotional, and psychological repercussions of systemic racism for individuals and communities. Given that West is both a Black woman and a rookie cop, the film inserts itself into the debate on the relevance of the Black Lives Matter movement in light of the counterattack by the Blue Lives Matter movement. Black and Blue launches us into a nuanced discussion around whose lives really matter in 21st century America.
While battling the status quo of lies, betrayal, and extortion within the police force, Black and Blue utilizes the motif of eyes to foreshadow the film’s ultimate call-to-action: to awaken our own sight in the pursuit of justice. Deserted by her partner, West walks into an abandoned, dark building approaching the sound of gunshots. The camera then pans directly to an ominous image of a white clown with an antichrist symbol in the middle of his forehead. Soon after, she witnesses the murder of yet another young black man by a police officer and captures the crime on her body camera. A crooked cop then deliberately shoots her in the chest in an attempt to silence the truth.
Driven by radical love for her community, she bears the burden of bringing the truth to light instead of cowering into the fold of corruption.
Throughout various scenes in the film, we see how the brutal gaze of white supremacy dehumanizes Black communities. The fear induced by the system is illustrated when West knocks on multiple doors asking for help. Every single individual up until Milo “Mouse” Jackson (Tyrese Gibson) is so mortified by the terror that the blue uniform evokes that they left a young Black woman bleeding outside of their door. Similarly, in the scene where the two white police officers visit Jackson’s store while looking for West, we see the stillness, sorrow, and defenselessness Jackson experiences while he is frisked. This mistreatment poignantly demonstrates how Black boys and men are infantilized while also treated as violent criminals. Hyper-visible abuses of power by the state creates invisible undercurrents of emotional distress. When Black communities are constantly bombarded by anti-black violence whether in their streets or in the media, this social injustice reinforces post-traumatic stress disorder and chronic diseases.
Black and Blue successfully highlights the significance of revealing the real societal enemy that is white supremacy. It also captures the ironic and unfortunate reality of abuse and neglect by the very forces that are ostensibly meant to protect all communities. The protagonist embodies this very juxtaposition. She lives through these intersecting societal ills while experiencing misogynoir at the hands of her “Blue” colleagues and “Black” home community. Between getting called “Uncle Tom ass bitch” for her perceived betrayal of the Black community, and getting physically and verbally abused and almost killed, West still remains focused on illuminating the facts. In so doing, she transcends the “us versus them” mentality and honors her convictions.
The film reveals how identity and power play a crucial role in determining whose life matters. The main antagonist, Terry Malone (Frank Grillo) is the embodiment of white male supremacy. Up until the penultimate scene, he is never held accountable for his criminality. Instead of calling for color-blindness in the fight for social justice, the film reminds us to honor humanity beyond the numbers. Statistics and media accounts reveal the enormity of the problem, its patterns, and correlates, but sometimes, the human story behind the numbers is missing. Black and Blue challenges us to push the discourse of police brutality beyond a divisive binary to consider the intersections of race, class, and gender-based privilege in the national narrative. By centering a powerful Black woman protagonist in a story of corruption, violence, trauma, and eventual redemption, Black and Blue urges us to engage radical love in reimagining new tools for liberation among humanity’s most marginalized populations.
Adaugo Pamela Nwakanma is a Doctoral candidate in Government, and Azmera Hammouri-Davis is a Master’s candidate in Theological Studies both at Harvard University.