On the Cusp of Change

Four men spend several hours in a hotel room on a night in 1964. Not four ordinary men: these were pretty remarkable people by any standard.

It is astonishing to discover that the film One Night in Miami is based on fact. That four such extraordinary black men, each a meteoric success in a very different domain, were actually friends, and really did spend a long evening together in Miami in 1964. What actually happened that night? What did they say to each other? No one really knows, but playwright Kemp Powers and director Regina King have put together a fascinating semi-fictional story of those hours.

Cassius Clay: 22 years old, just that evening he had beaten Sonny Liston to become the heavyweight champion of the world. Soon (but not yet), he will convert to Islam and become Mohammed Ali.

Sam Cooke: soul singer, entrepreneur, songwriter, producer. Staying at the whites-only Fountainbleu hotel only because his white manager had booked the rooms.

Jim Brown: NFL running back, multitalented athlete, born in a small town in Georgia where he is still not allowed into the houses of his white supporters.

And Malcom X: charismatic senior leader but growing disillusioned by the Nation of Islam, thoughtful, passionate, upright, opinionated, with a strong moral compass. Such a complex person: read Alex Haley’s wonderful biography to get a sense of the man!

This is a film that any history buff is guaranteed to enjoy, but many others too. After a brief introduction to each of the four main characters, the action takes place almost entirely in Malcolm’s hotel room. It has the feel of the play it once was. The four men, basically, talk. Their conversation ranges from the personal to the political and back: they gently question each other’s choices and plans for the future, they argue heatedly about their responsibilities as celebrities and also as representatives of their race, they disagree, they support each other, and they spill their own secrets.

It’s 1964, so the civil rights movement is in full flow. There is still segregation: these men would not be allowed to stay everywhere or go everywhere in the city. Martin Luther King’s March on Washington was less than a year ago. The mere fact of who these men happen to be, and the time of this meeting, allow the playwright to bring in pretty much every issue affecting black men at the time.

Should equality be obtained by force, as the Nation of Islam held? Or by peaceful protest, as held by Martin Luther King Jr? Should all black people focus on the civil rights struggle, or is it ok for some of them (e.g. Cooke) to be entrepreneurs and make money?

Clay has been learning about Islam and is considering converting, encouraged by his friend Malcolm. But when he talks to Brown, he’s less sure than when he talks to Malcolm — can he really, and does he want to give up booze and partying?

Malcolm, meanwhile, is in a difficult situation with the Nation of Islam for speaking out against its leader, Elijah Muhammed, who has several children with several young secretaries. The Nation is following him, and his family is threatened. He is considering leaving, but how? He has a wife and small children. Even his house is owned by the Nation.

JIm Brown is a star athlete, but well aware of his limited athletic longevity, is considering a new career in films. He’s acted as a Buffalo Soldier in a film, but as Clay chuckles, his character got killed halfway through the movie. Can he ever expect anything more from a film career than to be a sidekick to a white actor?

How do the black musicians deal with their songs and genres being coopted by white musicians? Sam’s friend Bobby Womack wrote a song called It’s All Over Now which inched its way up the charts; then the Rolling Stones recorded it, and it made its way to No. 1. That’s fine, Sam argues, Bobby gets a cut every time the song is played, so he’s making money, and welcomes the Stones to record all his songs. Malcolm plays a few clips of Sam’s soul music … sentimental songs about love. And then he pulls out a new song by a young white man from Minnesota. (“Minnesota!” is repeated a few times in tones of astonishment). It’s Blowing in the WInd, and it’s taken the protest movement by storm. Why is Sam, who assuredly has considerably more personal experience of discrimination and inequality than Bob Dylan, not writing songs like this?

It might seem that Malcolm is the one with the charisma to effect change. But then there’s a lovely scene shot in Boston, where Cooke is on stage and loses electricity. The backup bands walks out. The audience complains. And then Cooke gets them to clap and stomp a rhythm to which he sings, a capella, effortlessly bringing the entire audience in sync to his song — Cooke, too, has power over audiences.

It’s thrilling, funny, nerve-wracking, and riveting all at the same time. The nerve-wracking part comes from the two Nation of Islam bodyguards stationed outside the door — are they bodyguards, or are they monitoring Malcolm?

Just one little caveat: this is a film about four black men. Malcolm’s wife Betty has a small role, and her anxiety about the future is clear, but the film does not otherwise focus on black women’s issues at all.

To end, here is Sam Cooke singing his poignant yet optimistic song, Change is Gonna Come, which is part of an important scene in the film. There are many covers of this song — Otis Redding, Aretha Franklin, Patti LaBelle, Beyonce, Al Green … — but my favourite is this version below by Tina Turner and Robert Cray. Enjoy!