It was a provocative film when it opened to little fanfare in the United States, getting generally positive reviews and a devoted cult following. But in the wake of too many killings of unarmed Black men and women by the police, the film’s revolutionary empathy becomes downright dangerous.
What does it mean to let go of culturally ingrained fears of Black men? What does it mean to admit the systemic roots of poverty and crime? What does it mean to recognize that Moses is deep-voiced and swings a sword with muscular arms but he’s a 15-year-old kid?
The reveal of his age is the quiet power for the film in a nutshell. Sam is sent to Moses’ apartment to set a trap for the aliens. She notices a Spider-Man comforter on one of the beds. She asks Moses if he has a little brother. When he says no, she asks in confusion, “How old are you?” “Fifteen,” he admits, almost sheepishly.
There is a horrific echo of Tamir Rice’s killing in this exchange. 12-year-old Rice was playing with a BB gun and was killed by police responding to a call that a grown Black man was wandering the park with a gun.
The refusal to recognize the humanity of minorities is a poison that leaches through all strata of society. Failure to acknowledge or atone for it is destroying us faster than any alien invasion ever could.