Joel on Film

Every idea that The Gates possesses is right there on the surface of writer/director John Burr’s film, which pits three young black men against the residents of a gated residential neighborhood—well, mainly the cult-of-personality preacher who lives in the big house up the way. One of these young men even dons a hoodie, which prompts his friend to remind him of all the ways that such dress can get him into trouble at night in a place like this. To his credit, he does almost immediately dispose of the sweatshirt, but by then, it’s too late: The point has been made.

To be fair, these are not bad ideas, especially considering they come from a place of truth. We’ve heard far too many stories like the one directly invoked—though never specified by naming the people involved—by the hoodie reference, which happened an almost-astonishing 14 years ago and still remains a lightning rod of social justice to this day (though replaced, somewhat, by later and more galvanizing examples of similar events involving the police, rather than a regular citizen). Good intentions, though, only get one so far in the case of a thriller that would rather ratchet tension instead of working to say more than the obvious things it does.

It starts off well, introducing us to a group of genuinely good-natured guys, of the type we wouldn’t want to see put through this wringer before we even broach the racial element of the story. Derek (Mason Gooding) is an aspiring lawyer, and Tyon (Keith Powers) is hoping to see football in his future, limited greatly by a cartilage issue in his knee and the subsequent effect that could have on his scholarship. Only Kevin (Algee Smith), who is no friend to Derek, seems to be a bit of a flake and a problem.

We like them all in their way, though, and that makes what happens to them genuinely sting: On their way to a party, where Tyon hopes to loosen up the tightly wound Derek with some drinks and a good time, a traffic jam sends the trio on an unanticipated detour into that gated community. Increasingly, it seems there is no exit, and as these are three young Black men searching for help at night, well, one can imagine what the all-white residents would think of that. An alert is discreetly put out that the three friends are roaming around the neighborhood.

That’s hardly, of course, the worst thing to happen to the trio in this place, though, as the very first actual stop at a house in the community happens to be the religious leader’s residence. He’s Pastor Jacob, played by the late James Van Der Beek in a final performance that, to be certain, shows off the range the actor had at his best. Jacob speaks calmly and reasonably, which is likely why his congregation—which extends to the local Sheriff’s deputy (played by Kylr Coffman), who simply does what the Lord’s alleged steward asks of him without question—is ignorant of just how evil the guy is.

Jacob glories in spreading toxic hatred, including all sorts of politely worded racism and xenophobia, with a smile, which certainly makes his interest in Derek, Tyon and Kevin understandable—by his standards, of course. That’s not quite enough for Burr, though, who decides that Jacob needs to be a generic villain with a more specific and plot-device-based reason to chase them down. The gist of the plot is that the trio witnesses a murder he commits and tries to convince the folks in the neighborhood (but mostly a gun-toting man played by Brad Leland) and the police of what they saw.

That gives the movie a sense of mission and momentum, but there are also a lot of distractions and contrivances here, both to keep the scenario going and to pack in a little more social commentary for good measure (a sojourn for Kevin into a recording studio by a group of white teenagers, speaking with a stereotypically Black accent, who think they’ve found the right guy to record a song). The Gates comes out strong, but as it simplifies itself into a fairly typical thriller, it also becomes quite silly.

Rating: ** (out of ****)