ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI

Directing: A-
Acting: B+
Writing: A
Cinematography: B+
Editing: A-

One Night in Miami has shifted my thinking about the phrase “Black Power.” Not that I had any negative thoughts about it before, but this film has shown me that my conceptualization of it was . . . limited. Until now, I always thought of it as symbolic, aspirational, a unifying but abstract concept, a thoroughly justifiable goal but still a rallying cry. I never thought to think of it as literally power given to Black people, or perhaps more to the point, power that Black people have, and use. Which was pretty doofy of me.

This is a film about four Black legends, inspired by a night they actually did spend together in Miami (hence the title): Malcolm X (Kingsley Ben-Adir), Cassius Clay (Eli Goree), NFL fullback Jim Brown (Aldis Hodge), and singer Sam Cooke (Leslie Odom Jr.). The through line seems to be the idea of them as towering American figures, and how that brings to them obligation to fight for all Black people, as the Civil Rights Movement rages on. Malcolm is especially concerned with Sam writing songs for more than just selling records to white buyers, and in the face of Sam’s defensiveness, Jim refers to all the other Black people in the country as compared to “what you have but take for granted.” Sam replies, “What’s that?” and Jim says, “Power.” After a beat, Sam says: “Black power.”

Fundamentally, that’s what One Night in Miami is about: not just the existence of powerful Black people, but what they should be doing with it. It’s a conversation they’re having with each other, something no well-meaning white person has anything to contribute to, but it’s still an insightful conversation to overhear.

And don’t get me wrong—it’s not a lecture either. This film is adapted from a stage play by its original author, Kemp Powers, and as directed by Regina King—the most famous name attached to this film—it’s easily one of the best film adaptations of a play I have ever seen. Unlike, for instance, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, I never felt like I was just watching a play onscreen. I heard some people on a podcast recently talking about how easy it usually is to identify a film adaptation of a play: “No more than four locations, and a whole lot of talking.” Well, this film has plenty of locations, and even when the second half of the film essentially does take place in one hotel room, King makes it easy to forget that by moving the characters to many locations outside the room but nearby: on the hotel roof; at the hotel bar; even a brief scene inside a car in the parking lot. It never feels like the location is stationery, even though it essentially is.

There is indeed a whole lot of talking, but Powers’s dialogue is so well crafted, the talking alone propels the story forward on its own strength, with a density that provides a kind of inertia. There’s a lot of provocative food for thought here, no matter who the audience is. Regina King and Kemp Powers are both finding subversive ways to challenge, as with the scene early on when Jim visits a white man initially presented as “ a family friend” in a huge house that looks very much like a plantation. They have a very friendly conversation on the front porch, until the man (played by Beau Bridges) ends the conversation with a kind of casual bigotry that is no doubt as shocking to most white viewers as it is entirely expected by most Black viewers.

This is an important establishment of tone, a single example of what these characters—indeed, the actual people they are playing, and by extension the actors themselves—are up against. This is what they are talking about, sometimes arguing about, certainly engaged in spirited debate about: not the struggle itself, but what needs to be done about it, and how. Consider that this is set in 1964, and every single part of these discussions are as relevant today as they were half a century ago.

The way that One Night in Miami is edited is almost a bait and switch, in terms of it ultimately being a movie about an extended discussion. The many locations of scenes are concentrated in the first half, and particularly the first half hour: the four friends do not actually meet each other at the hotel until thirty minutes in. Prior to that, we meet most of them in their respective elements: Cassius Clay in the boxing ring; Sam Cooke onstage performing. We don’t get to see Jim playing football, but we do see a man bragging about Jim being the pride of the entire state of Georgia before dismissing him. As for Malcolm X, he is presented here as far more mannered, almost geeky as played by Kingsley Ben-Adir, than the iconic imagery made indelible by Denzel Washington in 1992. Perhaps that contrast is the point: Malcolm X was a depiction of the struggle itself; One Night in Miami is an exploration of how best to fight it.

And a great exploration it is. This film features four legendary figures looking deep into their souls and then baring them, in so doing inspiring anyone witness to it to do the same.

A singer, a boxer, a civil rights leader, and a football player walk into a hotel.

Overall: A-