The late John Singleton will always be remembered, and rightly so, for his searing debut and masterwork -- Boyz n the Hood. A film that remains a seminal piece of storytelling about the inner city black experience in the late 80s and early 90s. But there's another film he made that was not as commercially successful but which warrants reappraisal, and that's 1997's harrowing Rosewood.
It's ambitious period epic, very loosely based on the horrific events of a 1923 'race riot' which claimed the lives of several people, mostly African-American, and was spurned by a likely false allegation of sexual assault made by a white woman against a black man. Not unlike the now better known Tulsa riots, this is the story of a self sufficient predominately black community that was destroyed because of white racist rage.
What Singleton chose to do -- which was audacious at the time -- was alter the narrative from simply a document of black suffering to a heroic tale of liberation. Not unlike Tarantino's revisionist histories, Singleton chose to invent the character aptly named Mann (played with stoic gravitas by Ving Rhames) who becomes something of a black avenger against marauding mobs of white killers.
And yet, this movie is not a simplistic morality play. I am particularly impressed by how the white characters are rendered. These are not cartoonish bigots that are easy to dismiss. The always impressive Michael Rooker is phenomenal as a sheriff with a shred of humanity but without the guts to quell the white community. And if you can stomach his presence, given his modern politics, Jon Voight gives an interesting performance as a comparatively decent white man (whose engaged in an affair with a black woman) who reluctantly comes to the aid of black people in his community. The always good Bruce McGill conveys the subtle jealousies and insecurities that belie prejudice.
At times the film is reminiscent of the intense final scenes of Do the Right Thing, where callousness and chaos co-mingle in a terrifying brew. Singleton wisely doesn't censor the horrors of lynching, demonstrating how the majority who participate took joy in their work, saving trophies (ears and genitals) and posing for photos in front of decaying bodies.
One moment I will never forget -- a child covers his eyes to avoid watching the mutilation of a body and his mother pulls them away, encouraging them to look. It's just a few seconds, but it speaks volumes.
The film also brilliantly conveys how easily and with impunity white mob 'justice' could be exacted. It's a particular breed of terror that nearly every black person I know has. The idea that any black person can be turned into a suspect, have their identity questioned, their home invaded, and, ultimately, their life taken.
This is all surprising coming from Singleton, who for all his skill as a filmmaker, was often more than a little heavy handed with the messaging in his movies. Here his storytelling and subject matter is so striking it doesn't need much underlining and embellishment.
Sadly, because Rosewood failed at the box office, Singleton would pivot to more commercial fare for the rest of his career with mixed results. Had the film maybe won some awards and been better appreciated, Singleton might have been able to develop more historic epics of this kind. Still, it remains a testament to what he was capable of with a budget and subject matter worthy of him.
Does the movie end on a tad to optimistic a note? Perhaps. But a bit of hope is sometimes warranted, especially when the alternative is death and destruction. And, the film's final shot is a haunting reminder that all is far from well.
Rosewood is currently streaming on the Criterion Channel as part of their Black Westerns series. Check it out, if and when you can.
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