Across 110th Street
I expected a blunt “racist cop vs Black gang” Blaxploitation story, but this hit harder and deeper—messier, more human, and far more interesting. It’s less about crime than about survival in a system designed to chew people up. Harlem’s being torn apart by mob control on one side and a mostly white police force on the other, with Black lives caught in the middle of a war that’s never really about them.
No one’s clean. Mattelli’s a crooked cop, but you can feel the wear and regret in him. Pope plays it straight, but his hands are tied by a system that doesn’t reward integrity. Harris is terrifying and tragic all at once—a man shaped by brutality. The film doesn’t judge, and neither does the city—it just lays out the human wreckage.
And Harlem itself? A central character to the film itself. Collapsing, one brick at a time. Sirens, sweat, Womack’s funk—it all seeps in. A brutal and honest film.
No one’s clean. Mattelli’s a crooked cop, but you can feel the wear and regret in him. Pope plays it straight, but his hands are tied by a system that doesn’t reward integrity. Harris is terrifying and tragic all at once—a man shaped by brutality. The film doesn’t judge, and neither does the city—it just lays out the human wreckage.
And Harlem itself? A central character to the film itself. Collapsing, one brick at a time. Sirens, sweat, Womack’s funk—it all seeps in. A brutal and honest film.
Mini Review: I expected a blunt “racist cop vs Black gang” tale, but this digs deeper—messier, human, about survival in a rigged system. Harlem’s crushed by mob control on one side and a white police force on the other, with Black lives in the crossfire. No one’s clean: Mattelli’s crooked but regretful, Pope’s integrity shackled, Harris both terrifying and tragic. Harlem itself is the star—sirens, sweat, Womack’s funk—collapsing brick by brick. Brutal, honest.