McCoy on Movies: TILL

THE REVIEW: Emmitt Till. Martin Luther King, Jr. Medgar Evers. Tamir Rice. Phillip Pernell. Yusef Hawkins. Eric Garner. The Tulsa, Okla. massacre of “Black Wall Street.” Amadou Diallo. Michael Brown. Philando Castile. Trayvon Martin. Ahmaud Arbery. And despite what Kanye West and others like him think, George Floyd. And these are just the names I can name off the top of my head in my 40+ years on earth. All assassinated, lynched and/or killed in – and this is as loosely as the word can be used – “controversial” circumstances. All black men.

Like me.

According to the NAACP, nearly 5,000 lynchings occurred in the United States between 1882-1968. And those are just the known instances. In TILL, the audience receives brutal reminders for the latter 80 minutes of the film of the savagery, brutality, frustration, exhaustion, pain and injustice that continue – albeit less overtly and fortunately nowhere near as frequently – to this day. Unfortunately, the film’s unflinching portrayals of one of the most societally impactful events in modern American history, through no fault of its own, inadvertently result in a problem the film cannot fix. For in showcasing all the aforementioned savagery, brutality, frustration, exhaustion, pain and injustice, the film inherently runs into problems: (1) The risk of feeling like 2 hours of cinematic torture for African Americans and (2) making white audiences at the very least leaving feeling guilty and, at the very worst, invoking all the common privileged responses (“That was decades ago,” “We don’t have lynchings today,” “Movies like this just make things worse,” etc.”) one might expect.

When reviewing films, I try to leave myself out of analysis as much as possible. With TILL, I can’t deny just how inherently connected my world is to his some 67 years after his murder. My parents were children at the same time Emmitt Till was alive. Like Till’s mother, my mother worries every time I travel to a different city where she isn’t there to protect me. Like Till’s would-be adoptive father, my own dad worries whenever I jog in a neighborhood where the main demographics don’t match mine. (And we won’t even get into dating in a post O.J. Simpson world.) And like Emmitt, I am my parents’ only child and they both know they can’t protect me from the world at large, despite how much they try.

TILL is one of those type of films where you wish the people that need to see it the most (self-destructive African-Americans falling into the trappings of a system where they are behind the proverbial 8-ball in far too many circumstances; whites who deny what I just wrote to justify their position or deny a societal advantage). Instead, the audiences most likely to see are older blacks who for whom the Civil Rights movement is not part of a potentially-banned textbook, but their own history and liberal whites who want to actually understand and avoid repeating history. Then again, watching the film and realizing – as it details after the final haunting frame – that the Emmitt Till Antilynching Act DID NOT BECOME LAW UNTIL THIS MARCH may have the reverse effect of the inspiration it seeks to provide.

With apologies to the film’s cast and crew, TILL is a beautifully directed, emotionally gripping film that I cannot and will not ever be able to watch again. Deadwyler will be a deserving Academy Award nominee for her performance and Chukwu should receive Best Director consideration as well.

However, given America’s history of being built on the the backs of and benefitting from black pain, I just don’t have it in me to sit through another screening of TILL. For after years of important yet heartbreaking experiences watching (and not watching) so many films of its ilk, I don’t have any more grief I can afford to expend for the sake of my mental health.

In a world where stories like this, this and this are still happening today, I just can’t. TILL is an excellent movie I can’t watch because the instances of life imitating art imitating life are simply too much to bear. Throw in the fact Till’s murderers got away with it and then ADMITTED THEY DID IT LESS THAN A YEAR AFTER HIS DEATH and Carolyn Bryant will likely NEVER have to face the music for her role in Till’s death and I just can’t take it. At the screening I was at, there was nary a dry eye in the house (for the most part). I, however, felt myself beginning to tear up and then stopped. I just don’t have any more black grief I can expend.

Then again, maybe I should apologize to the memory of Ms. Till. After all, my mother and father still have their son and I am living in a world poor Emmitt’s death (I pray) has been made better as a result of his tragedy.