MANILA, PHILIPPINES — In the history of the American Civil Rights Movement, perhaps the two biggest names have been Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X. Their larger-than-life personalities and their differing views on how to achieve more civil rights for Black Americans, as well as their respective assassinations have made both men icons worldwide. Yet there were other people who also devoted their lives to the movement and their stories aren’t as well known. In director Shaka King’s Judas and the Black Messiah, a light is shone on one of those men, Fred Hampton.
The late 1960s sees William “Bill” O’Neal (LaKeith Stanfield) flashing a fake FBI badge around Chicago in various attempts to steal cars. When he is arrested and presented to genuine FBI agent Roy Mitchell (Jesse Plemons), an offer is made to have charges against Bill dropped provided he infiltrates the Illinois chapter of the Black Panther party. Bill agrees and quickly becomes close to the chapter’s deputy chairman, Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya).
Charismatic and idealistic himself, Hampton is attempting to bring together rival gangs and militia groups in a battle against the police, or people he calls “pigs.” Hampton develops a relationship with Panther member Deborah Johnson (Dominique Fishback) while O’Neal continues to relay information to Mitchell and the FBI while getting paid for his efforts. This results in O’Neal being arrested and imprisoned although O’Neal is promoted to security captain.
From behind bars, Hampton learns that the Black Panther headquarters has been bombed by the police following a shootout and while charges against him are pending appeal, Hampton is released. FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover (Martin Sheen) deems it necessary to neutralize Hampton and Mitchell directs O’Neal to drug Hampton. Reluctantly doing so late one evening, O’Neal then steps out right before police raid Hampton’s apartment, killing Hampton while injuring several other Black Panther members.
Although the Black Panther Party has a controversial place in American history, its young leaders like Fred Hampton are often viewed as heroes by several generations of Black Americans. Kaluuya’s portrayal of Hampton is particularly mesmerizing as he captures the charisma and the power of the man while also showing his shyness in tender moments with Deborah. It’s amazing that Kaluuya, British by birth, so easily portrays this kid from the streets of Chicago in the 1960s.
Judas and the Black Messiah is actually a reunion of sorts for Kaluuya and Stanfield after they were together in Jordan Peele’s 2017 thriller Get Out. Although Kaluuya was the lead protagonist in that film, Stanfield was a mere supporting player. This time around, both get a substantial amount of screen time to show off their acting chops.
Stanfield does that magnificently as his Bill O’Neal initially comes across as a slimy informant with only a paycheck in mind but slowly begins to appear more conflicted even as he becomes closer to the Black Panthers. Although Stanfield is clearly doing his job for an FBI paycheck, his actual belief in the good things that the party is doing in the community, as well as the fear that he may be discovered as a rat, keep making him want to leave. Yet Plemons’ Mitchell won’t let him go and Mitchell even treats O’Neal almost as an equal whenever they’d meet, something that just wasn’t done in 1969.
As the film neared its climax, the building tension between O’Neal and Mitchell as well as Hampton’s looming return to getting arrested are captured by King so well. Mitchell eventually pays O’Neal with the key to his own gas station, the promise of a steady income that O’Neal and other Black Americans have long wanted, but at the price of his betrayal of the Black Panther Party. The Judas analogy is best reflected in that scene, with the key replacing the proverbial 30 pieces of silver that the former apostle was given to betray Jesus.
With both Deborah Johnson and Fred Hampton Jr. as consultants for the film, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Hampton Sr. was painted in such a positive light. To be gunned down at only 21-years-old, the world was not able to see him beyond the very young man that was killed then. As previously mentioned, Hampton hasn’t quite reached the level of fame that Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr. have, yet his story, and the tragic betrayal that ultimately led to his demise, is compelling enough that a film like this comes across this well.
In an age when “Black Lives Matter” and social injustice have become new bywords of a struggle that has been going on for centuries, the story of Fred Hampton, Bill O’Neal, and the forces that drew them together and apart seem as timely now as when it was actually happening nearly 50 years ago. That is part of why the story is tragic to this day.
