THE DAY SHALL COME: Absurd Terrorism Satire Stumbles To The Finish Line

Before watching Chris Morris‘ The Day Shall Come, I spent a weekend binge-watching the first two seasons of Veep, Armando Iannucci‘s vicious, raucously funny D.C. satire. Though the brilliant show is clearly Iannucci‘s brainchild through and through, I was surprised to see Morris‘ name appear in the credits as the director of multiple episodes. Suddenly, my excitement for The Day Shall Come skyrocketed– a new satire (sadly, I’ve never seen his beloved Four Lions) that tackles terrorism, bureaucracy, and the incompetence of the U.S. government from a frequent Iannucci collaborator? Sounds like a dream come true.

The truth is a lot more complicated, as The Day Shall Come takes a stranger, more idiosyncratic route to reach its semi-satirical, semi-tragic endgame. As the tale of a constructed terrorist, a man with principles and beliefs who gets duped into an elaborately concocted scheme, Morris‘ latest is a goldmine of unique ideas and amusing twists. But what feels natural and hysterical at first eventually becomes labored and tiresome– the absurdity is intensified to an irksome degree, culminating in a finale that strains for an emotional pull that the film once earned effortlessly.

Finding the Next Threat to the Homeland

The Day Shall Come follows Moses Al Shabazz (Marchánt Davis), who, for all intents and purposes, is basically a nobody in the streets of Miami. He’s the patriarchal figurehead of a small compound/farm/commune, which is mostly a family affair. He’s a devoted husband to his wife Venus (Danielle Brooks), a good father to Rosa (Calah Lane), and a faithful servant to his friends. He preaches black nationalism and revolutionary ideals to his followers, using admirable historical figures like General Toussaint to spread a message of contemporary heroism. He encourages rigorous physical fitness at the compound, and he often parades and marches around Miami with his friends and family, willfully oblivious to the furor of neighbors and passing cars. He may only have a few followers, but he insists that he is a prophet– as the title says, his day shall come.

If you didn’t gather from that description, Moses is about as harmless as any one human being can be. But to the FBI office in Miami, he’s a possible threat. Agent Andy Mudd (Denis O’Hare) specializes in sting operations against potential terrorists; these aren’t men associated with ISIL or other prominent groups, but the agents at this Miami office are experts in pushing volatile targets to extremism. When we’re introduced to the operations of his office, an undercover agent is gently prodding a suspect to defuse a bomb– only the target won’t do it, because he’s afraid of pressing the number 5 on a phone. It’s crazy, but it also feels weirdly realistic.

After that strange catastrophe, colleague Kendra Glack (Anna Kendrick) suggests to Mudd that the office pursue Moses Al Shabazz, since his ideas are typically considered “dangerous” by the government. The operation gets underway rather quickly, with an associate of both Moses and the FBI pitching a meeting with an ISIL-connected Sheikh. What should be an easy sting quickly gets out of hand: mistakes and twisted logic from Moses, unexpected interference from the Miami Police Department, a fake white nationalist group, and a chaotic showdown in a donut shop. Even Kendra realizes that Moses is only delusional, but that won’t stop her from seeing this operation through to the bitter end.

Dangerous Maniac or Delusional Messiah?

Despite the movie’s faults, writer/director Morris and co-writer Jesse Armstrong pull off something rather remarkable with Moses Al Shabazz, a magical balancing act that walks the line between mockery and genuine affection. Moses is a ridiculous character: the film knows it, Morris knows it, and even star Marchánt Davis seems to recognize the ludicrous nature of this supposed prophet. Morris invites us to laugh at Moses’ elaborate, pseudo-religious show of extravagance, which almost always involves something tacky and absurd. We’re in on the joke, but Moses certainly is not– everything he does is 100% earnest.

Truth be told, that’s actually what makes him so charming. Once the viewer gets accustomed to Moses’ ludicrous routines, it’s hard not to fall in love with the character. He’s as charismatic as one would expect the leader of a small commune to be, but not in a way that feels dangerous. He’s deeply devoted to his personal convictions, but those convictions are almost unreasonably positive and beneficial to society as a whole. His naivete and gentleness never feels like a performance, as he always tries to be a good father, a good husband, and a good friend. His revolution is mostly about self-improvement and lifting his fellow man out of poverty– the fact that the FBI ever views Moses as a target is an immediate (and somewhat obvious) indictment of the institution’s suspicion of empowerment narratives in marginalized communities.

Ever-Increasing Absurdity Diminishes Emotional Weight

This conflict alone– the Bureau’s desperate, fruitless pursuit to entrap a good man who never quite succumbs to their nonsense–would make for a hilarious, compelling, and somewhat tragic comedy. Morris gets things off to a marvelous start, establishing Moses as a figure of immense sympathy and emphasizing the sheer idiocy of the agents at the Bureau. For whatever reason, the film slowly drifts away from the foundations that formed its strong start, reveling in the absurdity of a labyrinthine plot that sees Moses, Kendra, and everyone involved fall into a series of schemes that go way over their head. It’s funny, but it starts to feel like diminishing returns at a certain point.

It also doesn’t exactly help that Morris insists on ramming home his political points in a manner that’s far more forceful than necessary. From the very beginning, it’s impossible not to comprehend exactly what this film is saying– subtlety is not the name of The Day Shall Come‘s game, nor should it be. Still, Morris seems to doubt the effectiveness of this message, ending the chaotic, playfully nonsensical narrative on a note of forced pathos. Instead of trusting the audience to feel the gravity of the finale’s injustice, the film shifts into a manipulative key, relying on an obvious needle drop and some similarly sentimental choices to drive the message home. There’s even an Animal House-style end credits coda, showing how, despite numerous mistakes, the FBI’s incompetence is still rewarded in the end. It’s funny, but also painfully familiar.

The Day Shall Come: Conclusion

There’s absolutely a lot to admire in The Day Shall Come. Marchánt Davis is a phenomenal actor, and this film would not even come close to working without his incredible work as Moses, which blends empathy and parody without missing a beat. Yet as the film progresses, it’s hard not to feel like things get out of control, and not in rewarding way.

Yes, part of this is undeniably intentional– after all, The Day Shall Come is essentially about an operation gone completely wrong. But the downside of this escalating madness is a loss of comic cohesion, as certain elements that once felt carefully calibrated and daring begin to lose their effectiveness, succumbing to a tidal wave of mayhem and obvious satirical messaging. The Day Shall Come really comes close to approaching greatness, so it’s even more of a shame that it sputters as it reaches the home stretch.

What did you think of The Day Shall Come? Are you a fan of director Chris Morris’ work? Let us know in the comments below!

The Day Shall Come was released in the US on September 27, 2019, and will be released in the UK on October 11, 2019. For more international release dates, click here.