When They See Us (2019)

I watched this Ava DuVernay miniseries when it came out earlier this month, and the best word I can think to describe it is “harrowing.”  This is a hard watch, undeniably well-made but as heartbreaking as it is infuriating.  It’s only four episodes long, but I’ll admit to crying multiple times (premise spoilers, but it’s based on a true story, so really, that’s just history.)

Based on the true story of the Central Park Five, When They See Us follows Korey, Yusef, Ray, Antron, and Kevin, five Black and Latino boys whose lives are forever changed when they’re picked up by the cops after a night in Central Park in 1989.  The boys were five of many in the park that night, hanging around and/or stirring up trouble, but over the course of their marathon interrogations, they learn that a woman was raped and brutalized in the park, and the police are convinced that they did it.  From the police station, to the courtroom, to prison, and beyond, five innocent lives are thrown into turmoil by a system and society that sees them as intrinsically guilty.

It’s vile to see the tactics used by the cops and prosecutors here, how the boys’ rights are violated and how they’re threatened and told lies until they’re so broken down, they feel their only recourse is to repeat the lies the cops so obviously want to hear from them.  It turns my stomach every time the lead investigator refers to them as “animals,” and it’s beyond gross to watch them willfully ignore evidence that doesn’t fit the narrative they’ve concocted about what happened that night and the boys’ role in it.

(It might seem troubling to look at a story about five boys falsely accused of rape at a time when so many people are quick to shrug off allegations of sexual harassment/assault on the grounds that “the victim is lying,” when the truth is that false accusations of rape are very rare.  But the show never contradicts the “believe women” mantra, because 1) it never disputes that the rape took place and 2) it’s not the survivor who accuses the boys.  She has no memory of the attack and names/identifies no one.  The entire case is built on the boys having been in the park – among an enormous group of other kids – and “confessions” that are completely coerced and mostly fabricated by the cops themselves.)

As the miniseries goes on, it just gets harder and harder.  We see how the media swarms around the families.  We see the boys in prison (particularly Korey, in the brutal final episode,) the pain and trauma they experience there.  We see how, even after they pay the “debt to society” that they never owed in the first place, the system is stacked against any type of rehabilitation for them, how having been in prison has been designed to ruin the rest of their lives and keep them from ever getting out from under its shadow.

All the actors playing the boys (both the young actors playing them as teens and the older actors playing them as adults) are excellent.  I want to single out Jharrel Jerome (who played 16-year-old Kevin in Moonlight) as Korey and Asante Blackk as young Kevin.  The rest of the cast is stuffed with strong actors doing fine work; the miniseries features Kylie Bunbury (the lead on Pitch a few seasons back,) Vera Farmiga, John Leguizamo, Felicity Huffman (the irony of her playing a law enforcement officer isn’t lost on me,) Niecy Nash, Michael K. Williams (Omar coming!), Famke Janssen, William Sadler (who I’ll always remember as the dad on Wonderfalls,) Storm Reid (lately Meg Murry,) Blair Underwood, Len Cariou (the original Sweeney Todd!), Joshua Jackson (I know he’s better known for Dawson’s Creek, but he’ll always be Charlie Conway to me,) Dascha Polanco (Daya from Orange is the New Black,) and Christopher Jackson (George Washington himself!)  Phew!  Everyone tears it up bringing this searing real-life drama to the screen.

Warnings

Strong thematic elements, disturbing images, strong violence (including references to rape,) sexual content, drinking/smoking/drug references, and language (including the N-word and transphobic remarks.)