Depressing as it is to say, George Amponsah’s documentary could hardly be more timely. It’s set for cinema release shortly after controversial police shootings and fatal retaliation in the United States – the divide between community and law enforcement stretched far beyond breaking point. A similar story played out closer to home in the summer of 2011, the death of Mark Duggan sparking riots that started in London and spread throughout the country.
The film gets its name from the police tactic used just before the Tottenham local was killed. He was a passenger in a minicab boxed in and forced to pull over at speed. When he was ordered to get out of the car an officer – referred to only as V53 – thought he saw a gun in his hand and opened fire. A weapon was found, but it was behind a fence several metres from Duggan’s body. The jury at a later inquest ruled that he was unarmed when shot. They also judged the killing to be lawful.
While questions about the verdict and what really happened that day understandably persist, the facts of the case aren’t the focal point here. Expect eye-opening new evidence or crucial missed details and you’ll be disappointed. Amponsah is interested in telling a human story, perhaps failing to really get under Duggan’s skin but providing a powerful study of his death’s impact on two of those left behind. Marcus Knox-Hooke and Kurtis Henville are their names.
Both grew up with Duggan and their struggles to deal with his loss are laid bare. Knox-Hooke is living in a bail house when we first him. He’d previously turned away from criminal life and found religion, but the killing of one his closest friends pushed him over the edge – CCTV footage of the riots led to charges of violent disorder, robbery and burglary. As he awaits sentencing anger and mistrust towards the police still fester, yet he also expresses despair at the life he once led. He describes his actions as arrogant, poignantly questioning why he remained loyal to something that had no love for him.
His willingness to be so open on camera makes for compelling viewing. So too the everyday grind that Henville pushes himself through since going straight. His concerns are often more practical than philosophical, committed as he is to stay the course, earn an honest living and provide for his young family. He comes across as a joker at heart, although juggling job applications while processing Duggan’s death and dealing with his own anger issues doesn’t come easy. His temper has a hair-trigger when it comes to the authorities.
Police presence is more or less non-existent and – as a result – accusations of one-sidedness aren’t completely off the mark. Their voice goes unheard, but this becomes easier to forgive given the specific focus. It’s when the wider issues take a backseat that the film works best, when Amponsah homes in on Marcus and Kurtis and how the fallout and the legacy of what happened hangs over them, how they carry it with them and how it’s shaped who they’ve become. Details of their past transgressions are never lingered on; the intent is to demonstrate their capacity for change, their determination to redefine themselves.
