One of the great unheralded heroes of the Civil Rights Movement is Bayard Rustin, who has only started to receive recognition in recent years, with his revolutionary efforts to bring equality to marginalized groups in the United States being beyond admirable, but rarely given the attention they deserved at the time. However, we have seen more attention to his work appearing in the form of biographical accounts of his life, which are particularly resonant because not only was Rustin an African-American who fought for the rights of his community at a time when it was genuinely dangerous, he was also openly gay, something that he refused to hide, and as a result caused tensions with not only the bigots he spent his life fighting, but also something that his fellow activists, who often had their roots within religious conservatism, found went against their principles and the Christian beliefs on which they based their movement. An expert in overcoming adversity, it was only a matter of time before his story was brought to the screen, and we find that Rustin is this very attempt to explore his life and times. Written by Dustin Lance Black, who previously found great success with his similarly-themed dramatization of the career of Harvey Milk, and directed by George C. Wolfe, who has been a formidable force as a theatre director, and has now shifted to film directing, Rustin is an admirable effort that filters the story of the titular character through the events surrounding what many consider his greatest achievement, spearheading the March on Washington, the largest civil protest in American history, and an event that indicated a major turning point for the Civil Rights Movement, and the country’s history as a whole. However, as is often the case with these films, Rustin is deeply flawed and has many obstacles standing in its way that prevent it from reaching greatness, and in terms of both conception and execution, it begins to fall apart at the seams, despite the abundance of promising ideas that went into its creation.

There is an intrinsic problem with a film like Rustin, which is that it tells the story of someone who spent most of his life standing in the shadows, which was entirely his intention, as he did not strive to be the face of the movement, but rather the person that helped bring attention to this issues, more than willing to defer the spotlight to the more charismatic orators and people who he felt possessed sharper leadership skills, which is why his friendship with Martin Luther King Jr. is so impactful, as Rustin was something of a kingmaker for the movement. As a result, a film about his life needed to find a particular way to approach his story, since he is not someone whose efforts are all that cinematic in the traditional sense. Perhaps a very traditional biographical drama that struck all the expected notes was not the right direction this film should have taken, nor one that is helmed by Wolfe, who is undeniably a very good director but is only as good as the material which he is working, and he seems to be struggling to elevate the story beyond the limitations imposed by Black, who in turn appears to be using his own political and historical interests to write a competent but otherwise quite flat script that doesn’t do much in terms of exploring the legacy left by Rustin or doing anything we have never seen before with such paltry material. Certainly, this doesn’t disqualify the film from being effective in how it looks at his career, as well as brief glimpses into his personal life, but it ultimately feels quite uninspired, which seems to be counterintuitive to what we would hope sat at the foundation of the first proper biographical account of the subject’s life, and he certainly deserved a more complex film rather than one that is traditional to the point where it lacks a certain energy that I’d imagine Rustin himself would find necessary in his life’s story.

One of the merits of waiting this long to bring Rustin’s story to life is that we were able to cast the right actor in the titular role. There has certainly not been any shortage of actors who would have played him over the years, and they all would have done exceptionally well. However, it seems like casting an openly gay actor in the role of someone who is considered a pioneer of the LGBTQIA+ movement, especially within the African-American community, feels like a major step forward in terms of representation. Colman Domingo is not immediately the most perfect fit for Rustin in terms of physical appearance, but he easily transforms himself into the character, which is done with some minor prosthetics and a lot of effort on his part as the actor asked to nurture this part in its journey towards the screen. He’s extraordinary in the film, bringing such heart and soul to a narrative that is sometimes too caught up in the intricate details that it struggles to develop its own identity after a while. It’s the kind of performance that makes us wonder what could have occurred had it existed in a much better film, which is unfortunately something that we do have to lament as we work our way through this film. Domingo is astonishing in the leading role, and he proves his mettle as one of our great actors – but he’s not the only worthwhile performers, since the film employs an ensemble cast that includes C.C.H. Pounder, Jeffrey Wright, Glynn Turman, Michael Potts and in a rare dramatic performance, Chris Rock (who proves to be remarkably adept at playing a far more serious character), and while they are all undeniably standing in the shadow of Domingo’s mighty performance, they do manage to make quite an impression themselves, proving that Wolfe is a great director when it comes to working with actors and tasking them with bringing out their best skills, and that it is his skills as a visual storyteller that requires some work, especially since there are many aspects of Rustin that could have been vastly improved with a more concise approach to the direction, the performances being one of the few redeeming qualities.

Unfortunately, beyond Domingo’s electrifying and dedicated performance, as well as some good work being done by the supporting cast, Rustin is ultimately not strong enough of a film. Based on a cursory glance at the premise, you would expect it to be a soul-stirring, meaningful biographical odyssey that leaps into the life and times of an extremely important voice in mid-century American politics, and a formative figure in a truly important movement. Yet, the film’s decision to focus entirely on Rustin’s efforts to plan the March on Washington (while a good approach, since the cradle-to-grave narrative is beyond passé by this point) is ultimately the source of its downfall, since it doesn’t seem to have the gravitas it genuinely believes it does, and instead functions as a series of moments in the weeks leading up to the event, which is interesting from a historical perspective, but ultimately quite limiting in terms of cinematic reach, which is primarily where the film falters. We just can’t scrounge up any enthusiasm for the film, because it is ultimately far too dull, which is unfortunate considering who the subject is, and how there was a lot of potential to bring this story to life in an incredible way. Wolfe is not someone who seems to be able to create the most energetic or rambunctious of films, and he was ultimately at the mercy of Black’s script, which meanders and becomes too much about the details surrounding the political milieu than it does the actual reasons why Rustin is seen as such a heroic figure in American politics. The film simply lacks any spark, and it seems too tied up in the political machinations and eventually struggles to find the humanity underlying the story, which proves to be fatal in terms of holding our interest. It follows conventions so closely, that it seems like Black’s writing process was to take the most fundamental facts about Rustin’s life and transpose them on the most common, colour-by-number political drama structure imaginable, which results in a half-hearted attempt at exploring the life of a truly fascinating figure.

Bayard Rustin’s entire life was spent fighting against those who genuinely felt like he did not have any right to exist, and he faced adversity from all sides – but rather than buckle under the pressure of the bigotry he experienced, he used these challenges to make himself stronger. It’s an inspiring story and one that is profoundly moving and deeply captivating, and it is therefore not inappropriate to suggest that perhaps it should have been the foundation of a much better film, one that isn’t so inextricably tied to the inconsequential details but rather captures the spirit of his rebellious nature in vibrant and meaningful detail, which I am not entirely sure is the case with Rustin, which is merely competent at best. It’s not a bad film, but rather one that is mostly quite dull, and except for a few moments (which are unsurprisingly focused on looking at Rustin’s domestic life and his experiences being gay at a time when homosexuality was still viewed as a taboo), it is mostly straightforward and not at all as inspiring as it could have been. The lacklustre screenplay is mainly to blame, since it takes the easiest route and refuses to challenge itself, and by extension the audience. It follows the same traditional structure beat-for-beat, and it never amounts to being anything more than a didactic history lesson, one that lacks any real energy or nuance, and instead thinks that it can get away with just being an array of facts placed in such a way to give off the illusion of being meaningful, when in reality it is as simple as it could be, which is primarily where the film begins to fall apart and loses any potential it had to be a worthy biographical account of the life and times of a true pioneer. It does what it set out to do, but only at the most basic level – Rustin deserved a more compelling and meaningful film, as did his incredible achievements, which are ultimately shown throughout this film, but not given much attention. One can only imagine what could have been done with this story had it been written with more attention to detail and directed with some sense of vision, rather than just being a point-and-shoot biographical film, which is ultimately the reason Rustin doesn’t amount to much, despite its revolutionary subject.