Rustin

Rustin is an important story well told, with an outstanding must-see lead performance.

Directed by George C. Wolfe with the same passion and conviction that defined its subject, Rustin reminds that the pursuit for equality has never been and should never be satisfied with the advancement of a single group.

Domingo, who began his career as a stage actor in San Francisco, brings velocity to all the scenes involving the march. He seems unbound, possessed by an understanding that he’s doing something bigger than himself.

The film can sometimes be dramatically simplistic, relying on perfunctory montages and creaky expositional dialogue, but Domingo ensures that Rustin is a layered and vibrant character, pushing Rustin to be bolder than it otherwise is.

You leave the film knowing that you’ve met a hero, but that this remarkable man deserved more.

It’s when the script leans into the story’s specificities that the film is at its most compelling – when intersectionality causes ruptures within the group, when we see civil rights giants fail to understand the hypocrisy of their homophobic bigotry, how Rustin manages his queerness in public and in private – and these moments help to provide depth to some of the flatness that’s in the more standard-issue scenes.

The film’s saving grace, as you’d expect, is Domingo. He conveys Ruskin’s inherent natural charisma so perfectly that no one will finish watching this film and wonder how such a flamboyant man became such a powerful figure in this homophobic era. Domingo’s performance makes you believe.

Bayard Rustin was an unapologetically gay Black man who was also a brilliant social activist and organizer. His friendship with Martin Luther King led to his creation of the historic March on Washington in 1963. Colman Domingo embodies the character layered with the undeniable charisma and meaningful depth that deserves award consideration. Director George C. Wolfe has surrounded him with an exceptional cast and filled every scene with compelling moments. This historical event was not without challenges and writers Julian Breece & Dustin Lance Black have told this story richly handling each setback and success. This is an important and fascinating story about a flamboyant man who was an important figure in the fight for equality.

An anatomical look at the March On Washington on August 28, 1963. Martin Luther King Jr. was the face, but the details were never taught in school. Bayard Rustin had a dream, to see 100,000 people descend on the National Mall to demonstrate peaceful protest for jobs and freedom. This film is about the conception, care, and birth of that dream. His vision was brought to life, but for his homosexual lifestyle, he was nearly cast out of the entire movement. CONTINUE READING ON LETTERBOXD: ****/5ZKymL

A great performance by Colman Domingo provides this project with enough weight to get by, and that is because beyond the recognition it provides for the figure of Bayard Rustin, this is an extremely conventional film.

'Rustin' is an ordinary biopic that fails to make an effective balance between the intimacy of the protagonist (a gay black man labeled as a communist and agitator by the U.S. government) and the grand scale of his life project: organizing the 1963 peaceful march on Washington D.C. to end racial segregation. Although Colman Domingo truly disappears in his role, nothing in the film is worth mentioning: the other characters are flat, the digital effects in the Washington Monument scenes are poor, and the march sequence is as unexciting as it is brief. Unlike 'Ma Rainey's Black Bottom,' director George C. Wolfe's previous work, this one feels too pristine, superficial, and vague.

“Rustin” is a very uninspired film that tends to present clichés as discourse but succeeds better at detailing events leading up to the march rather than showcasing its hero as a whole person. Domingo, who collaborated with George C. Wolfe in 2020’s “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” is good as Rustin. He doesn't resemble Bayard Rustin physically the same way a character actor like Wood Harris does, but he does capture some of his essence and spirit. He's charismatic, gritty when he needs to be, and wildly intelligent. Co-writers Dustin Lance Black and Julian Breece provide a soft script, and Domingo executes its humor flawlessly, but unfortunately, the passing comedic lines far outshine those elements that are meant to leave an emotional impact. The opening of "Rustin" quotes the unconstitutionality of segregation and then slides through a slow-motion montage of instantly identifiable chapters in the movement: Ruby Bridges, guarded from the front and back, walking to school in 1960 as the first Black student to be integrated in Louisiana; Elizabeth Eckford being berated on her way to class in 1957, surrounded by hateful schoolmates; and Anne Moody, stoic during her 1963 sit-in at a diner as food is being thrown on her in protest from the white people inside. It’s a somewhat melodramatic montage included only as evidence that racism existed outside of legislation. And though these historic moments are essential, their cliched inclusion is just as surface-level as the entirety of Wolfe’s film. Rustin’s friendship with Martin Luther King Jr. (Aml Ameen) is a central part of the story, as is his intermittent romantic relationship with a younger activist, Tom (Gus Halper). Both men have excellent chemistry with Domingo, holding their own while also functioning to give the movie a nuanced lead. His budding romance with Elias Taylor (Johnny Ramey), a fictionalized married pastor on the NAACP board, is another key relationship in the problematic emotional construction of Rustin. Rustin isn’t treated solely as an activist, considered only for the lines on his resume, but as a man with touchy friendships, hurt feelings, and charm to a fault. However, it also often teeters into melodrama, jumping from one item on the script’s outline to the next. As "Rustin" relays the difficulties of unifying 100,000 Black people to arrive at the Lincoln Memorial for the largest nonviolent protest in the movement’s history, we get a peripheral look at the figures and factors at play. From the NAACP’s initial shutdown of the idea (with Chris Rock playing Roy Wilkins, the Executive Secretary in an interesting dramatic turn for him) to the immoveable faith and support A. Philip Randolph (Glynn Turman) had in Rustin, Wolfe's film is the document of a fight but like many of his other films it's very limited by the scale and scope and the idea of the story. “Rustin” was undoubtedly made in admiration of its subject. Yet, with a very stale approach to its plotline and confused narrative priorities, the film is more like an educational outline than a spirited story. While care was taken to give nuance to Rustin himself, the context is left neglected and looses any passion for the great man this person truly was.