Moses the Black Review: Curtis Jackson's Redemption Thriller Blends Crime and Grace with a Religiously Timeless Message

There’s little to no precedent for crime thrillers explicitly tying their plots to a particular saint’s story of repentance in the way religious biographies do. It’s even stranger when the combination is a 4th-century gangster-turned-saint that the film is titled after, and a modern Chicago gangster scene.

Queens rapper and music producer Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson and Serbian filmmaker Yelena Popovic have recently changed that with their film, Moses the Black. This is not a broad retelling of the saint’s story, but rather of the prize and price of redemption and spiritual awakening. 50 Cent onboards a couple of black entertainers as stars, alongside seasoned actor Omar Epps, for an embracing but no less dark film whose message won’t go away too soon.

Moses the Black Preaches that no One is Beyond Redemption

In Moses the Black, the life of Malik (Omar Epps) in modern-day Chicago is the true battleground, not the 4th-century Egyptian saint's. Fresh out of jail, the feared gang boss is hot on the heels of rival gang led by Straw (Quavo) after the torture-murder of his closest friend and fellow gangster, Sayeed Hodari. “Retribution is at hand,” Malik declares, and he means it. The bullets move faster than the order, and Straw’s men begin to fall.

Of the many things a mobster should and shouldn’t be, stoic and soft sit at the head of both ends. Viewers meet him at the former with reassuring fatalistic mantras such as the classic “If I die tomorrow, I ain’t got no regrets… my fate is my fate.” That composure, however, begins to fracture when his grandmother, shortly before her death, holds up a metaphorical mirror: a prayer card of Saint Moses the Black. Once a feared robber who found redemption through repentance, she tells Malik the saint’s life bears an uncomfortable resemblance to his own. Such a lecture should hardly sink in with a crime boss, but it does with Malik. He finds himself increasingly conflicted about his line of business and the body count it’s left behind — both of friend and foe.

When not sketching Sayeed’s likeness, visiting his lover to add fresh ink to the world-map tattoo stretched across his back — nothing telegraphs mobster bravado quite like it — he spends his private hours punctuated by visions of a teary-eyed Moses the Black striding deserts with lips full of psalms, penances, and Lord’s Prayers. This quiet transformation does not go unnoticed. The rank and file grow uneasy, whispering among themselves about their “Chief,” the man who once moved with ruthless certainty, who now hesitates at the edge of revenge.

Moses the Black Advertises Redemption but Never Forgets the Wages

Moses the Black sells repercussions as loudly as it sells redemption. It reiterates the pithy saying that “He who lives by the sword shall die by the sword”; in other words, this is no clichéd morality tale with a happy ending. The wages of sin — both physical and spiritual — loom over the characters, symbolized in part by their wardrobe: almost entirely black, as if the film itself is a 100-minute funeral for their choices, for better or worse. Of course, redemption itself doesn’t come cheap. Just as Moses the Black (played by the ever-brilliant Chukwudi Iwuji) didn’t become holy overnight (he struggled, failed, got back up, and kept going), Malik undergoes his “valley of tears” in prolonged fashion till the very end.

There is no shortage of imagery and symbolism woven throughout Moses the Black. That should come as no surprise: filmmaker Yelena Popovic is no stranger to religious storytelling, having previously directed Man of God. Here, she strives to keep the film both spiritually reverent and brutally grounded. Cocaine is never shown outright, only implied, while blood is spilt without hesitation. Recurring shots of trains moving back and forth underscore the tension between parallel journeys that run until one must finally give way.

Moses The Black's Performances and Character Exchanges Are Worthwhile

Omar Epps’ stint as Malik is solid, as is Cliff Chamberlain's portrayal of the corrupt police officer, Jerry, with his unsettling tantrums. However, it goes without saying that with films of this sort, the discussion almost always tilts toward the celebrity faces. Another familiar pitfall follows close behind: the amateurism of this group bleeding through the frame. But never in Moses the Black.

Rappers Wiz Khalifa, Quavo, and Skilla Baby are indistinguishable from other acts and are natural within the film’s tonal register; Deontay Wilder, meanwhile, doesn’t get to be anything more than a bouncer. None of them deliver performances fit for awards season, but that is beside the point; the integration is seamless, and the film is better for it.

Performance alone rarely sells the illusion in cinema. Moses the Black understands the importance of structuring character exchange through dialogue and moral sparring. “He who lives by the sword shall die by the sword” are words that refer to “divine vengeance and have nothing to do with their kind of revenge,” says one character. “Then divine vengeance must be in our favor,” replies Malik. Elsewhere, the film distils its critique of worldly ambition and stark nihilism into blunt aphoric lines such as: “People that own the world ain’t got time for paradise” and “If this is all there is, blessed be those that didn’t last at all.” These are lines Quentin Tarantino himself would be proud of.