In “The Killing of Kenneth Chamberlain,” everything that might (hope against hope) go right doesn’t. Everything that could go wrong happens, and this is because of the bias, ignorance, or outright bigotry that is at play when police officers come across people of color or people who have mental illness. Chamberlain, who was Black, suffered from bipolar disorder.
Frankie Faison and David Midell, writer-director, have created a taut, emotional drama about the police shooting of Kenneth Chamberlain Sr. at White Plains, N.Y. in the early hours of November 19, 2011. “Hours” is something of an overstatement: The 83-minute movie approximates the real-time duration of the unfolding tragedy, which began around 5:22 a.m. and ended about an hour and a half after police arrived at the veteran’s apartment. The film was theatrically shown and has received awards attention. Faison was nominated for a Gotham Award for outstanding lead performance. It begins streaming on HBO Max starting Nov. 19, which marks the bitter 10th anniversary of Chamberlain’s murder.
Faison’s portrayal is one of those performances that seems to come from elsewhere, which is not the same as “out of nowhere.”Faison, a veteran of television, film and stage, was nominated to a Tony Award for her featured role in the 1987 premier of The Greatest Showmanship. “Fences.” Here, he brings something outsized — a possession, a haunting — to the role. And why wouldn’t the actor, born in Newport News, Va., in 1949, be haunted by the history of lethal encounters between Black people and police officers?
Faison is a portrait of profound nuance. Faison must navigate a sea of vulnerabilities, including psychological, physical, and racial. Kenneth’s confused about why the Medical Alert company is calling him. He accidentally pressed the button. He’s even more flummoxed when the police knock on his door to do a welfare check. He’s not physically well (he has a heart condition), and he’d like to get some sleep, but otherwise he’s fine. Although the conversation is conducted behind closed doors, it begins quite calmly. But soon, the police start banging on his door and shouting out questions. Kenneth refuses opening his door.
Anika Noni rose, who we hear as the Life Guard dispatcher is part of an important but unseen ensemble of characters that hope to stop the madness. LaRoyce Hawkins is Chamberlain’s son and Eunice Woods his daughter, each of whom we hear in phone calls to Kenneth Sr. This film is full of missed opportunities. “what ifs.” Why won’t the police let Chamberlain’s niece (a very affecting Angela Peel) talk to her uncle? She’s there, standing in the stairwell pleading for the possibility. This is not a man without loved ones, and yet…
In “The Killing of Kenneth Chamberlain,”The three officers arriving at the apartment on Lexington Ave. do not think alike. Sgt. Parks (Steven O’Connell) and Officer Jackson (Ben Marten) walk into the foyer making disparaging remarks about the people living there. Officer Rossi is an entirely different story. Rossi, who is played by Enrico Natale, the film’s editor, expresses concern with a rationality which will tease viewers hopes but only marks him as soft to other cops.
Every time officers are given the chance to de-escalate they double down. Sgt. Park believes this is an ego thing. Officer Jackson sees something darker. Their drive to assert authority becomes more chaotic as they arrive in greater numbers. If a neighbor asks a question, “What’s going on?” they’re met with a condescending “Let us handle this” reply. Mishandling? Yes. Manhandling? Absolutely.
The director makes a visual and aural distinction between the tight hallway outside the door and inside Chamberlain’s apartment. The lighting in Chamberlain’s cluttered house is yellow-amber. The hallway lights have fluorescent bulbs. Inside that dwelling — inside his head? — the sounds from the other side of the door are distorted. Chamberlain is wearing hearing aids. The noises sometimes heard from Chamberlain can sound like the whining feedback that hearing aids can produce.
Chamberlain’s paranoia and anger swells. Sometimes it lulls, before swelling up again. One particularly painful moment saw him talking to his daughter on the phone and resorting to his best father. “I’m okay, don’t worry” voice. The police outside are intensifying their aggressive tactics. His son calls him again and he tries to make his child feel at ease. He also cites the rights guaranteed under the United States Constitution. These moments are evidence of Chamberlain’s dance of lucidity and disorientation.
This ensemble does vivid and moving work. But not all the filmmaking is as disciplined as Faison’s performance. As the action grows more volatile, the film over-leverages the score’s propulsive energy. It’s an unnecessary gesture for a movie that has already utilized (affectively and at times excessively) frenetic editing and visceral handheld camera work.
The filmmakers are to be forgiven for their insistent moments. The anxious feelings that Midell and his crew provoke — and Faison’s career-defining performance — are in the service of a larger story and on behalf of a fellow citizen who deserved better.