American Skin
With all of its righteous indignation and unfettered fury about the state of contemporary race relations in the United States, maybe American Skin needs to be bold and brash just to get its point across.
However, the aggressively heavy-handed approach in this latest polemic from actor and filmmaker Nate Parker (The Birth of a Nation) winds up undermining the worthwhile message he’s trying to convey.
Parker stars as Lincoln, a suburban Black man and ex-Marine whose unarmed teenage son is shot and killed by a white cop (Beau Knapp) during a traffic stop in an affluent neighborhood. Flash forward a year, and a grand jury dismisses charges against the shooter.
Amid the protests and public outrage, Lincoln desperately hatches an idea that could both bring catharsis and call attention to the case. He enlists an activist cousin (Omari Hardwick) and a student filmmaker (Shane Paul McGhie), among others, to break into police headquarters and take hostages, staging a mock trial to determine guilt and punishment on his own terms.
The film wants to put a human face on pervasive injustices that often leave victims hopeless with nowhere to turn amid a justice system stacked against them. On a broader level, it hints at the struggle of middle-class Black families to achieve upward mobility while preserving cultural identity.
Yet ambition exceeds Parker’s grasp as the film evolves into an all-encompassing referendum on institutional racism and subconscious biases. The problem isn’t in the way he exaggerates the issues for dramatic effect, but the methods in which the contrived standoff shamelessly manipulates viewer emotions in an ill-conceived effort to shift perspectives.
Such lack of narrative discipline in navigating tricky subject matter causes the film’s first-half momentum to evaporate along with its subtlety.
Separating his art from the alleged issues that have plagued his personal life, Parker’s passion and sincerity galvanize American Skin. His anger fuels every frame, and his elusive search for answers should find empathy even for those of us who don’t walk in his — or Lincoln’s — shoes.
Unfortunately, channeling that frustration into a coherent and persuasive film proves difficult. The screenplay resembles a feature-length lecture that ultimately doesn’t have much new to say. In other words, it’s timely and provocative, but will it actually move the conversation forward?
Rated R, 89 minutes.