Political Trailblazer Shirley Chisholm Gets Too-Shallow Biopic
Since 2016, we’ve all been more or less in agreement that we’re living in the worst timeline. Netflix’s Shirley (not to be confused with Josephine Decker’s film of the same name) may leave you thinking that a far better alternate universe would be the one where congresswoman Shirley Chisholm actually got elected to the White House. Not much about writer/director John Ridley’s biopic of the trailblazing politician stands out—it’s more interested in deifying Chisholm than interrogating her counterintuitive campaign choices—but based on what it gives us, she would’ve been pretty great.
Chisholm, a former schoolteacher, became the first Black woman elected to Congress in 1968. She served seven consecutive terms from 1969 to 1983. But Ridley’s film primarily focuses on Chisholm’s 1972 presidential campaign, which made her the first Black candidate for a major party nomination. Despite the establishment’s refusal to take her seriously, Chisholm (Regina King) runs a very serious campaign, where she’s forthright about the issues she cares about, suffers no fools and is passionate about engaging young voters (the 1972 election was the first that allowed 18-year-olds to vote). Ridley presents Chisholm as unimpeachable, and though it often feels like the other characters are constantly trying to refute that claim, the writer/director prefers to drown them out rather than give them credence, ultimately to Shirley’s detriment.
Performance-wise, King’s Chisholm is a delightfully blunt character who’s fun to watch, even if the film around her isn’t. She’s unafraid, for example, to fire her frustrated campaign manager Stanley Townsend (Brian Stokes Mitchell) by telling him “Ya done!” in a “mother is mothering” tone. She inspires young activists like future congresswoman Barbara Lee (Christina Jackson) with her optimism and honesty. A short interview at the end of Shirley with the real-life Lee affirms what we see of their relationship on screen.
Chisholm is also consistent and uncompromising in her beliefs. This is refreshing for anyone exhausted by presidential politics (be real, that’s all of us). It is, however, unrealistic if you want to run for president. Ridley writes Chisholm as obstinate, a politician who refused to acknowledge this fact despite extensive evidence from her advisors. The film’s inability to deal with this complex position with nuance is the biggest spot where Shirley falls short. For instance, Chisholm refuses to attend a large, influential convention of Black voters because she knows this particular group doesn’t value the voice of Black women. It’s uplifting to see a female character who thoroughly knows her worth, but a large part of politics is building relationships with people you don’t see eye-to-eye with. In moments like this, King’s Chisholm comes across as preferring to shoot herself in the foot over her pride rather than create a dialogue. Obviously, that’s not what Ridley is intending to put across.