SilentDawn’s review published on Letterboxd:
65
Senseless provocation, although more in the idea surrounding such brutality; not whether we should show these images, but questioning what they truly provide for audiences. The nation is long past utilizing re-creation for the sake of sensation. Nothing contained within Detroit's two hours and twenty-three minute run-time provides any further introspection or advancement in depiction of racial tension. In the best way, Bigelow's film reminds me of late-historical Spielberg joints akin to Amistad or Munich; portrayals caught between the flurry of feeling and the necessity of broader contextual coherence. You'd think with Bigelow behind the camera that the film wouldn't begin with a strange animated educational re-cap regarding America's deep-seated injustices and anxiety, but it does. You'd also think that Bigelow would initially frame the events inward, only branching out when its lawful conclusions reverberate. Spoiler alert: it doesn't happen. This grimy, pent-up docudrama was at war with itself from the first page written, and Mark Boal's, usually a tighter, more refined provocateur, insecurities regarding the material come to light, as do Bigelow's.
This all may sound negative, and it is, to a point, but what provides life-support to Detroit is the accuracy towards factual evil, the commitment to telling a story right. There's a great respect found in Bigelow's staging of the carnage, with an especially assaultive middle-section reaching staggering heights of rendering physical and psychological abuse. You can smell the blood and the sweat and the energy of the party morphing back into its rotting reality. It's just enthralling, but is that what you want to see? Do you want to sit back for two hours and observe Will Poulter perform a (to be fair, effective) racist part for a breakout role? Is another reenactment of Black suffering really necessary? Sure, it's (mostly) accurate and *riveting*, yet the conversation, no matter the forward-thinking, always runs backwards with these movies. They're starting to feel like reminders with no political or personal rage, sadness, fear. Its effectiveness spins around in circles.
An example: a group of three older ladies uttered this in passing as they walked out of Detroit:
"Gee, wasn't that an interesting story?"
"Oh, I know, so powerful!"
"Truly."
Then, abrupt silence.