Spike Lee is known for his politically-driven films -- also known for his western remake of Oldboy, but let's forget about that -- and BlacKkKlansman just might be his best work yet.
In truth, I didn't really know much about BlacKkKlansman prior to watching the film; I had heard of it, but it didn't really peak my interest. I figured the film would be overly politicised and the actual film experience wouldn't be so great.
On a night out shooting, I came across a relative, who was on their way to watch the film at a newly-built cinema nearby. They asked if I'd like to join -- it was attempt to spend my night surrounded by drunks and homeless people in the street while trying to take photographs, or relax a bit, so I joined.
BlacKkKlansman is a very different film to modern blockbusters. It feels like a true film in the sense that the characters don't carry too much depth, and the narrative is fairly straightforward. It makes up for that with the way it's beautifully crafted, shot on 35mm film and riddled with creative methods of camera movement.
Regular scenes are amplified by exaggerated camera angles that portray unrealistic character movements, but are heightened to near perfection alongside the film's frequent score, which happens to blissfully appear at the best times. You'll find it's often used to connect one scene to the next, to switch location and establish another event occurring within the narrative.
The film is set in the 70s, based on the actions of Colorado Springs Police Department's first African-American detective, Ron Stallworth (John David Washington), as he is tasked with infiltrating the Ku Klux Klan, portraying himself as a white male interested in joining the 'organisation', while Flip Zimmerman (Adam Driver) portrays Ron in person. The film shows the troubles Ron experienced during his work, how the system was rigged against him, even when he begins to uncover a sinister plan behind the KKK.
BlacKkKlansman holds itself as its own unique piece of art, but it's ripe in its social commentary, without overstepping it. There's the odd reference to events happening now in real life, but they serve as little comedic moments every now and then, rather than being dead serious and distracting from the rest of the film.
That said, the footage displayed at the end of the film was utterly harrowing. It's footage we've all seen before in the news, but on a widescreen, alongside many other strangers, you can feel the discomfort taking over; you can feel the silence in the room engulf you as the screen slowly fades to black, and you realise that once you grab your things and step out of that room, you're stepping into a world where the film's events are very real. They're no thing of the past, and it's terrifying.