All Day And A Night

And Fathers And Sons In Prison

When I was a young comic book fan, I felt the same way about Black Panther that I did Iron Man – this is a fun comic book character, but it would make an even better movie. I knew that “Black Panther” would be a ground-shaking movie if the execution was right. I was in prison when it came out, but the entire prison population was excited to see this movie change our culture. Shortly after I watched the bootleg in a crowded TV room, I endured a violent attack and spent the next few months squirreled away, in transit to another institution. But I am certain that after I was gone, that group watched that bootleg another dozen few times.

So I was glad to see the co-writer Joe Robert Cole (who also contributed to the “Wakanda Forever” script) used his newfound clout to write and direct “All Day And A Night”. While the chronology is tangled, this is a thoughtful but straightforward account about a young Black man (Ashton Sanders, always quite good) who, in trying to avoid the lifestyle of his criminal father, ends up compromising every step along the way. The very first scene involves him committing a double homicide, but that portion of the film isn’t altogether necessary to emphasize that he is stuck in an inevitability.

When I was looking this movie up, I was interested in how Wikipedia, quoting a Rotten Tomatoes a.i. generated consensus on the film’s reviews, blasted the movie by saying it had a “disappointingly familiar story”. Well, gee, mighty film critics, anyone want to talk about WHY the movie is so familiar? Is the problem that the movies keep telling these stories of generations of men going to prison, or that the criminal justice system allows this problem to become familiar? I’m sure that was on the mind of the normally-excellent Jeffrey Wright, here playing the boy’s wayward father. I am normally a big fan of Wright, but here he comes across as a bit mannered, artificial. Seeing this today, I couldn’t help but think of his work in “American Fiction”, where he largely lampoons these inner city crime fables. And yet, I feel as if the story’s familiarity was a selling point to him.

Cole, for what it’s worth, shows a superb eye for directing. This is a movie with a tremendous amount of forward momentum, an accomplishment considering how the first scene lands. There are a few longer takes, and the camera really captures the disorientation felt when you’re about to make that one wrong move in a moment you can’t escape. And not to discredit the cast, but Cole has done an exceptional job with the actors surrounding Sanders, including a menacing Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, and Regina Taylor as Sanders’ troubled, conflicted girlfriend, caught on both sides of the gate when this unreliable, messy manchild commits to her but doesn’t commit to making the smartest decisions. I have seen this woman many times, visiting the same guys in prison, rolling her eyes the exact same way.

I saw fathers and sons who reunited in prison. Disappointingly, a lot of them would keep their distance from each other. Whatever was between them, I could not find comfort in being involved. But I cannot imagine a man or woman who works at a prison not feeling a deep sense of shame upon seeing multiple generations of the same bloodline. Most prison officials, particularly guards, had law enforcement aspirations that weren’t fulfilled. But instead of seeing themselves as part of an institution (one which they clearly endorse and support), they suddenly act as if this is a job, not unlike any others. Seeing a father and son in prison is a reminder that the system you support failed. When we have officials willing to take the blame for this, even if they are the lowest rung on the latter, then perhaps we can finally, honestly, address our broken criminal justice system, and the lack of opportunities for those who would leave and then return.