The Hate U Give

Even if it might not drastically alter moviegoer perceptions with regard to police brutality and racial profiling, or break the cycle of drugs and poverty in inner-city neighborhoods, at least The Hate U Give has the audacity to try.

This provocative big-screen adaptation of the acclaimed novel by Angie Thomas isn’t exactly subtle about its message, yet earns compassion and sympathy by presenting characters and scenarios that feel relevant and authentic.

“Know your rights. Know your worth,” explains ex-con Maverick (Russell Hornsby) to cap a chilling opening sequence in which he ingrains to his young children how to best avoid police violence.

Such lectures are a rite of passage among black families in the rough urban neighborhood where precocious teenager Starr (Amandla Stenberg) was born and raised. Maverick and his wife (Regina Hall) are conflicted over whether to leave for safety reasons, so they send Starr and her two brothers to a suburban private school as a compromise.

When her best friend (Algee Smith) is shot and killed by a police officer during a traffic stop, Starr is the only witness. The aftermath tears the city apart and causes a national media frenzy, with Starr fearful to come forward and join the media firestorm. As her two worlds come together — including her white boyfriend (K.J. Apa) from school — her reluctance turns into determination when injustice surrounds her friend’s death.

Stenberg (The Darkest Minds) continues to showcase her versatility with a ferocious and heartfelt portrayal that gradually reveals Starr’s depth and complexity, even if the details of her story aren’t as compelling as the broader context surrounding it.

As directed by George Tillman Jr. (Notorious), the film turns melodramatic in the final act and could benefit from some crisper editing. The earnest screenplay by Audrey Wells (Under the Tuscan Sun) tends to sanitize and oversimplify some of its broader issues.

The Hate U Give — which draws its title from Tupac Shakur lyrics — promotes the idea that change must start from within because external sources, such as cops or judges or politicians, aren’t motivated to help. And it argues that such community empowerment doesn’t need to compromise heritage or cultural identity.

The well-intentioned and sharply observed film laments a broken system with accessible urgency in the age of the Black Lives Matter movement, while also offering a shred of hope amid the heartbreak.

Rated PG-13, 132 minutes.