There’s an electric rhythm at the sensory heart of Shaka King’s Judas and the Black Messiah. A tangible frisson of galvanic energy. It is, by the film’s own omission, ‘the beat that manifests in you’. Here is a civil rights powerhouse that needs not just to be seen but to be heard. To be lived and to be left livid. Through the bedazzlement of King’s masterful choreography and the triumphs of his exquisite cast, a reminder harkens. This isn’t over. Don’t you forget it.
Aaron Sorkin testifies for civil rights and counterculture for his second stint in the director’s chair. And the verdict? The Trial of the Chicago 7 is far superior to Molly’s Game – Sorken’s first – and, further still, bests all other courtroom dramas of recent years. A lightning sharp blend of on point acting, pitch perfect choreography and simply superb writing hook from the very first shot and very nearly hold their grip till the last. Indeed, bar only a misjudged epilogue, Sorken’s Trial is a triumph.
A couple of things become eminently clear in the first five minutes of Raya and the Last Dragon. The first is that this may well be the crowing visual achievement of Disney’s in house animation team in the post-hand drawn era. It’s gorgeous stuff. Breathtaking. Second, the whole thing is very ‘on-brand’. The twenty-first century Disney Princess owes a lot to the Frozen mould and that’s both a blessing and a curse. When Dwayne Johnson’s Maui cracked the code in Moana – ‘if you wear a dress and have an animal sidekick, you’re a princess’ – that was irony. In Raya, it’s marketable. Take that as you will. Raya doesn’t sing but she doesn’t do much we’ve not seen before either.
The Film Blog 