The summer of 1967 remains a haunting chapter in Detroit’s history, a time when simmering tensions over racial inequality and police brutality erupted into five days of violence, destruction, and heartbreak. Kathryn Bigelow’s film *Detroit* brings one of the era’s darkest moments back into focus, forcing us to confront the painful truths of systemic racism that still echo today.
What began as a police raid on an unlicensed Black bar quickly spiraled into chaos, exposing the deep fractures in a city divided by segregation and economic disparities. The uprising wasn’t just about that single incident—it was the culmination of decades of marginalization, where communities of color faced housing discrimination, unemployment, and aggressive policing. The flames that consumed Detroit were fueled by long-ignored grievances.
Bigelow’s decision to center her narrative on the Algiers Motel incident—where three Black men were brutally killed by police—highlights how unchecked authority can turn deadly. The film doesn’t shy away from the horror, but it also asks uncomfortable questions: How much has really changed in 50 years? Would accountability play out differently today?
While some dismiss the events of 1967 as mere ‘riots,’ others rightfully frame them as a rebellion against oppression. The language matters. Calling it a ‘riot’ reduces it to senseless violence, while ‘uprising’ acknowledges the justified anger of a community pushed to its breaking point. This distinction shapes how we remember—and learn from—history.
As we reflect on Detroit’s painful past, the film serves as both a memorial and a mirror. The scars of 1967 remind us that progress is fragile, and justice delayed is justice denied. The real tragedy would be watching *Detroit* and thinking its story belongs only to the past.