Critics reviews

Some of “Red, White and Blue” is hard to watch, but the film is eloquent on how an institution will resist change, perhaps especially from inside its own walls.

Here’s McQueen working in one of his most exciting modes as a director: cool anger. In contrast to the passionate political thrust of of Mangrove and the heated groove of Lovers Rock, Red, White, and Blue is wrought of images that feel clinical and removed — until you mash them together into a movie. That’s when the hellmouth cracks open, and all the seeming poise at the movie’s surface is revealed for the disguise that it is.

This is a not a coddling film. It’s an angry one, a tricky meditation that forces you to put yourself in the shoes of someone you might actually consider a traitor or a fool. Boyega, who is fantastic, wears the burden of Leroy’s loneliness very well, and you feel his desire for an ally, a friend or, most notably, a running buddy who looks like him.

McQueen reveals himself to be less interested in the ideology of policing than he is in this uniquely tense relationship between father and son. It makes for a frustratingly inconclusive story about the issues Leroy’s story raises, which include not just his difficulties at the police force but his gradual ostracism in his home community... At the same time, the story of father and son is beautifully and subtly told, culminating in an illuminating final scene that is quietly crushing.

It isn’t the best of the "Small Axe" movies — "Lovers Rock" takes the prize there, with "Mangrove" close behind. But it is the one that delves deepest into how cultures can bend to each other over time, in ways both fruitful and regrettable... [while] Boyega gives one of the best performances of his young career.

While this entry in the series isn’t as sensual and evocative as “Lovers Rock” or as stirring as “Mangrove,” it’s nonetheless a fascinating take on the outsider-cop story... It’s a slower burn than those other two “Small Axe” entries, but it builds to a final scene between Boyega and Toussaint that’s quiet but shattering.

I’ve been critical of “Copaganda” in the past, but I think this film manages to circumvent the genre – simply because the picture it paints is so bleak. To make matters worse, despite the 40 years between us, Logan’s world really doesn’t feel like a far cry from ours.

Toussaint and Boyega are particularly impressive and their father-son dynamic is utterly believable... McQueen and Newland’s assured script grips from the start and keeps us deeply involved in the characters’ fates. Not to be missed.

It’s hard to think of a more reflective and candidly philosophical film for this moment of widespread malaise, distrust and darkness. The convincing, economical plot machinations combine to build a convincing argument as to why the boil of systemic racism within any professional institution cannot simply be lanced – the entire body needs to die and be completely reborn for true change to take hold.

McQueen serves up an awe-inspiring, visceral reflection of London’s torrid history of racial prejudice and police brutality, while John Boyega gives a career-best performance dripping with power and passion.

At a mere 80 minutes, the script by McQueen and Newland feels amazingly full, and Boyega’s careful delineation of how each new insult, and roadblock, affects him emotionally proves his talent the best possible way: through character, and action.

On the one hand, the material s so strong you can’t help but wonder if McQueen should have stretched it out a little further... On the other hand, there’s a damning clarity to the economical way McQueen chips away at the young Logan’s idealism—he’s made an unsentimental drama about the arduous, uphill business of institutional reform that wastes no scenes.