Compared to other social commentary films like LA HAINE, BLACK is a love story set against the violent world of urban warfare of young second generation immigrants – the 1080s of Moroccan descent and the Black Bronx, presumably of Congolese descent. Both groups alienated by the racism and prejudice in language and skin colour of Belgian society, their world consists of money, sex and violence, where the common code is to never speak to the police and to settle scores on your own. Membership of a gang is a life commitment which becomes a problem for the two central love birds Marwan (Aboubakr Bensaïhi) and Mavela (Martha Canga Antonio), members of the opposing who suffer the misfortune of falling in love. You might think this is a tale of time, and it is. BLACK is posited as a vibrant re-working of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, while also owing a lot to WEST SIDE STORY.

There has been a far amount of buzz surrounding BLACK and its not hard to see why. Its aim is to crash into our consciences the way CITY OF GOOD did back in 2002. While it doesn’t entirely succeed because some of the script is fairly weak and we’re all jaded souls – We do already have a CITY OF GOD – it’s called CITY OF GOD. I applaud the effort. As an example of a first time feature, there is much to be impressed by. There are more than a few flashes of skilled camera work and innovation and the performances from the unknown locals are tremendous – in particular Martha Canga Antonio’s fearless portrayal of Mavela, who’s transformation from innocent but bullheaded to broken yet fearless is a devastating journey to watch. However, despite all of this praise, BLACK is troublesome to the core and it all begins with the filmmakers politics.

A TIFF review from Jared Morbarak of the film comments on the characterisation of supporting cast:

Not once does either’s actions read false thanks to a fantastic supporting cast of complex souls willing to do what’s right when it may be too late and a handful of two-dimensional pawns doing exactly what we expect so the rest can wrestle consciences.

Morbarak does more than most in acknowledging the existence of weak supporting characters (a case of poor screenwriting) but in my opinion fails to notice the suspect way in which the ‘handful of two-dimensional pawns’ are almost exclusively members of the Black Bronx. That’s not to say the members of 1080s are that well developed, but my particular problem with the characterisation of the black gang-members begins with the dangerous racist implications from their portrayal.

All the black male gang members are portrayed as nothing more than vicious barbarians. From the very first line spat by one character during their introductory scene at a basketball court:

PREGNANT CHARACTER holding her belly, exclaims excitedly
Ah! He’s moving

FATHER OF THE UNBORN CHILD
Tell the brat to calm down or I’ll fuck his mother- Or some cunt. I don’t give  a shit.

Insightful stuff! It gets better! That same character’s only other presence in the film is to participate in a couple of gang rapes and to bring home another woman he starts undressing in front of his pregnant girlfriend who rightfully is upset to which he responds by telling her to “Shut up, bitch”. So you see, that’s a fully fledged human being here.
Violence, in particular sexual violence, is the only language this gangs speak. On the other hand, the 1080s, while also criminally active with a propensity for violence (but only when its used against them) are portrayed alternatively as more congenial jokesters larking about. Almost like they’re infant gangsters, compared to the big black graduate gangsters. You’re almost left wondering why the Black Bronx would even consider the 1080s a rival since they seem to elevate cruelty and violence to a whole new level.

Why exactly is that? If the film is supposed to be a gritty realist take on ‘urban’ life in Belgium, why is all the research and effort undermined by saving humanity for one group and not the other? Why are particular characters i.e. Black males written as nothing more than ciphers of evil? They are constantly referred to in racist terms that equate them to nothing more than animals, while the 1080s are less so viciously characterised. There is an invisible line that filmmakers have to toe when it comes to exploring racism because – no pun intended -racism in not all black and white. It’s a complex subject that when simplified in the way that BLACK does it,  comes off as more offensive than revelatory. (This also works the other way round with films where racists are portrayed uniformly as monsters with no characterisation or humanity – I’m equal opportunities when it comes to fully fleshed characterisation. I just want well-written characters on my screen – even if they are the biggest arseholes walking the earth – that’s the only way, in my opinion, you can reach any sort of truth).

BLACK is not like LA HAINE in this instance, it’s not like CITY OF GOD either, although aesthetically, comparisons could be made. No – at the risk of sounding hyperbolic – BLACK feels like BIRTH OF A NATION or rather the experience of watching BLACK (I’m referring to the 1915 version of NATION, not the yet-to-be-released 2016 film, which in itself is turning out to have its own brand of unsavouryness). While there might not be groundbreaking filmmaking techniques at play watching the former, there is awareness that talent is abound. But like BIRTH OF A NATION, there is also the palpable unease at the politics on display. While BLACK may not be the propaganda film BIRTH OF A NATION was, BLACK is a descendant of its views.

A few too many years have passed since I last watched LA HAINE but there’s much to remember. There was nuance in character, a genuine attempt at insight to the lives of the forgotten or ignored. Lives marred by anger, desperation and in turn violence. Life on the fringes of society is a hellish place to exist for anybody and terrible people who do terrible things are born of that. But BLACK fails in its raison-etre as a social commentary on immigrant isolation and the cycle of poverty and violence created because of its laziness in characterisation and it’s mind-boggingly immature glorification of sexual violence. There are three – yes three – gang rapes, all committed by The Black Bronx. The most graphic and vicious is filmed like a hip-hop video. It’s stomach churning to watch; not just for what’s happening, but in the editorial choices made while shooting it. The scenes read like an aspiring ode that equates ‘Black culture’ as being one being violent violating gang bang.  BLACK is a dangerous film, not in its subject matter but in its execution. The fact that so few critics have picked up on this or if they have –  its in an incidental manner:

However, the hip-hop video aesthetic, all self-consciously choppy editing and lapidary lighting, is a bit obnoxious sometimes, especially when it seems to prettify sexual violence, and the ending couldn’t be more predictable. When a character starts talking about getting out of the life and going straight, maybe learning a trade, you just know it’s all about to go south – Leslie Felperin, Guardian

(A problem with the ending? It’s based on ROMEO & JULIET and WEST SIDE STORY. Hazard a guess as to what her opinion was on the ending of TITANIC…)

I don’t lay claim to know the social divides in Belgium but I do know that the racial divide between North and Sub-Saharan Africans is very real. While Fallah and Al Arbi might not agree, discrimination against Sub-Saharans in North Africa is as keenly felt as it is anywhere else in the world. It would be reductive, sensationalist and downright stupid to call Fallah and Al Arbi racist but watching BLACK feels as if being confronted with the sense that these filmmakers have some controversial viewpoints, of which BLACK is a product of. The fact that they are Algerian, therefore in the eyes of the Western world – the Other – appears to make this viewpoint legitimate, because as we all know – immigrants are all the same, so therefore none of this can be seen as troublesome or racist. For me taking their word that there is little conflict between North and Sub-Saharan Africans would be like taking the word of Bill O’Reilly about the black experience in the US:

Fallah and Al Arbi are obviously not comparable to the likes of Bill O’Reilly, but the pervading sense that one group of people can speak for another them is highly problematic. The critical acclaim and lack of acknowledgment about how troublesome BLACK’s viewpoint is also highlights the dysfunctional use of banding all immigrants together like their experience is interchangeable and therefore one can speak for another.

BLACK is a film that has me torn. Despite faultless performances from its two leads Martha Canga Antonio and Aboubakr Bensaihi, of which I hope both, especially Antonio, go on to have fabulous film careers because their performances were inspirational. Despite some energetic filmmaking and obvious talent from Adil El Arbi and Bilall Fallah, BLACK is not a film I would recommend. This could simply be a case of first-time filmmaking problems. Hopefully El Arbi and Fallah will build upon their sometimes impressive first feature but for now what I thought would be a refreshing take on ROMEO & JULIET, a reworking of WEST SIDE STORY became instead a glaring symbol of how little has changed since BIRTH OF A NATION. BLACK leaves a nasty taste in the mouth.