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Netflix’s Shirley is in so many ways a companion piece to the streaming platform’s recent Rustin that the two films could be entries in the same anthology series. Both shed light on influential Black political figures too long undervalued in historical accounts of their era. Both are driven by commanding performances from first-rate actors in the title roles. Both focus on specific chapters of the lives they depict, mostly skirting the clichés of cradle-to-grave biopics. But both also struggle to frame their subjects in the forceful dramatic terms they merit, getting stuck in too much expository talk and at times nudging reclamation into hagiography.

There’s a moment late in the film, where after long resisting the notion of campaigning in California as a waste of time and resources in her run for the 1972 Democratic presidential nomination, Congresswoman Shirley Chisholm (Regina King) finally agrees to make a play...

There’s no doubt that John Ridley’s Shirley is trying to make a statement about marginalized peoples’ role in shaping America and their power when it comes to making their presence known to those who would never see them otherwise. But the film also uses one of our greatest and most complex Black leaders to make that statement, and it’s cheaper for it, reducing the arc of Shirley Chisholm’s life to a handful of easy platitudes and inspirational movie clichés. In the end, this sub-Sorkin-esque political potboiler sidelines her most meaningful community work to the fact that she tried and failed to run for president.

The film’s first scenes speed run through roughly a decade of Chisholm’s political life, largely glossing over her time as a teacher and years of activism for equal rights. Much of that time saw her struggling to be heard as a woman of color.

Promised Land

Written by John Krasinski and Matt Damon, based on a story by Dave Eggers

Directed by Gus Van Sant

2012, USA, imdb, Josh Spiegel’s much more positive review

I walked out of the theatre disliking Promised Land and the more I reflect on the film, the less I like it.

On paper, there is a lot to love about the film: strong performances by John Krasinski and Matt Damon, supported by an excellent cast including Frances McDormand, Titus Welliver and Hal Halbrook; solid direction by Gus Van Sant, supported with gorgeous cinematography by Linus Sandgren and crisp editing by Billy Rich. And for a brief minute, during the impromptu debate between high school teacher Frank Yates (Hal Holbrook) and gas fracking advocate Steve Butler (Matt Damon), it seems like Promised Land has something to say about the death of nuance in political discourse, about the way that the...