Illustration by Michael DiMilo
The Forgotten Man: Film Review of Rustin
by Geoff Carter
History is a fickle and sometimes cruel mistress. She may regale a chosen few as heroes while arbitrarily relegating many others into the dusty stacks of the forgotten and abandoned. Sometimes these choices seem completely arbitrary. Why do we remember Alvin York and Audie Murphy but scratch our heads when we hear the names of Richard Bong and Lewis Millett?
Dr. Martin Luther King and Malcolm X were the lions of the American Civil Rights Movement. Ralph Abernathy, Jesse Jackson, and Medgar Evans are lesser-known stars in this constellation of freedom fighters, but they are not unknown—but who the hell was Bayard Rustin? For an activist whose name is known primarily by historians and archivists, he was a primary force in the movement and the man without whom the March on Washington would not have happened.
The film Rustin, directed by Broadway veteran George C. Wolfe and produced by Higher Ground, President Barack and Michelle Obama’s production company, shines a light onto the life of the charismatic civil rights leader who almost singlehandedly organized and managed the March on Washington in 1963, in which over two hundred thousand people gathered in front of the Lincoln Memorial to demand the end of racial discrimination in America. This was also the event in which Dr. Martin Luther King delivered his famous “I Have a Dream” speech.
Biopics have been all the rage this year. Maestro, Oppenheimer, Napoleon, Nyad, Ferrari, and Barbie—well, maybe not Barbie—have captured the imagination of the viewing public. Films that chronicle the extraordinary lives of remarkable people, but some are more fascinating—and successful—than others.
Epics like Napoleon or Maestro that seek to encapsulate the entire scope and influence of the life story of a Bonaparte or a Bernstein might be overreaching, attempting to take a bridge too far. While Maestro is in many ways an excellent movie, featuring bravura performances by Bradley Cooper and Carey Mulligan, at times the narrative meanders and loses focus. From Bernstein’s early success as a conductor to his whirlwind romance to his extramarital dalliances, the film is less a portrait of a creative genius than a loose collection of chronological anecdotes.
The most successful cinematic biographies focus on one watershed moment in the subject’s life, which allows the narrative to examine all the qualities and struggles which brought them to that particular point in time. Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln focuses on the president’s seemingly impossible attempt to pass the Thirteenth Amendment banning slavery. Seeing Abraham Lincoln cajole voters, persuade representatives, and vehemently articulate his vision for the country to his cabinet conveys the strongest elements of his character while simultaneously maintaining a strong narrative arc. The audience sees his compassion, his sense of humor, and his love for family—particularly as he unabashedly spoils his son Tad.
By concentrating on his struggle to organize the March on Washington, the narrative of Rustin is able to focus on the qualities which made Bayard Rustin an idealist, a visionary, a revolutionary, and a leader.
The film opens with Bayard Rustin meeting with his old friend, Martin Luther King, to discuss an upcoming meeting with the NAACP. Rustin tells King he will tell Roy Wilkins (Chris Rock) that he will resign if his March is not supported. Wilkins calls his bluff and—mostly because King remains silent—Rustin is ousted. And so, with this tactical defeat, the audience is given a taste of what Mr. Rustin is, and always has been, up against.
Yet major figures in the movement like A. Philip Randolph (Glynn Turman) stand by him as he tirelessly works toward realizing his dream of implementing the March on Washington. Rustin is relentless. He courts the unions, church groups, and organizes a nucleus of volunteers who arrange to provide transportation, food, bathrooms, and other sundries for the huge crowd. He also has to deal with the D.C. police force who are reluctant—to say the least—to cooperate with anything doing with the event. As a result, Rustin must recruit his own police force from the ranks of the NYPD and tells them they will not carry guns. He clears hurdle after hurdle in his quest, even attempts to smear him because of his personal life.
Bayard Rustin is an unabashed gay man, a dicey proposition for a public figure—especially an African American activist—at that time. He has a long-standing off-and-on relationship with a Tom (Gus Harper) but also falls in love with a young preacher Elias Taylor (Johnny Ramey)—a fictionalized character who also sits on the NCAA board.
Of course, history is the spoiler here. The March on Washington happened in 1963 and was a roaring success. Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech is still a milestone in public oratory. Afterwards, Dr. King and other members of the Civil Rights Movement were invited to the White House by then-President Lyndon Baines Johnson which led to the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Although invited, Rustin declines to go, instead helping the grounds crew clean up after the mess.
The film, as many biopics are, is bookended with documentary footage. Rustin opens with a montage of Ruby Bridges going to school, activists at the Greensboro Woolworth’s being harassed and humiliated, and Elizabeth Eckford being harangued on her way to class. The film closes with titles explaining the Civil Rights Act and the remainder Rustin’s career.
In many ways, Rustin is a very typical biopic. It grounds itself in fact from the very beginning, but—as with Spielberg’s Lincoln—it transcends events to give the audience insights into the workings of a character who is the very definition of an outsider, yet who fiercely fights for the inclusion of all.
Colman Domingo’s performance is nothing short of superb. His Rustin brims with energy and enthusiasm, never missing a chance to make political points, yet who suffers from the double discrimination of also being gay—something he never tries to hide. Domingo gives Rusting a vulnerability encased in an evasiveness, a reluctance to become too attached to anyone (although the tagline at the end states that he finally committed to a long-term relationship with Tom).
Domingo is in turns charming, funny, domineering, relentless, but always crazy smart. He is shrewd and clever but never loses sight of the prize. It is a bravura performance by Domingo, who also—for you trivia buffs—played a small part as a Union soldier in Lincoln.
Rustin is for the most part a typical movie that shines in this latest crop of biopics because of Colman Domingo. As remarkable as Bayard Rustin’s life was, there aren’t many surprises in the story, but the decision to tell this man’s story through the prism of his crowning achievement is brilliant.
Rustin is the story of a great man mostly forgotten by history. It wasn’t until 2013 that he received the Presidential Medal of Freedom by Barack Obama. This is a story that needed to be told and a man needed to be recognized. It is also a very good and engaging movie that catches you up in the story and sweeps you right along on the currents of history.