In 2010, Kathryn Bigelow became the first woman to collect the Academy Award statuette as Best Director for harrowing wartime thriller The Hurt Locker.

Depressingly, there hasn’t been a single Oscar nomination for a female filmmaker since then, and Bigelow was snubbed for her work on Zero Dark Thirty, which kindled a political firestorm about the use of torture as an interrogation technique. Her latest white-knuckle ride picks at the fresh wounds of divided race relations in America by reliving one tragic night in a fractured city that resulted in the deaths of three black teenagers.

Released to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the shootings at the Algiers Motel, Detroit is a slow-burning crime drama, which builds to a protracted sequence of gut-wrenching terror that draws uncomfortable parallels with the present day. Screenwriter Mark Boal employs his journalistic training to distil personal accounts into a rich, textured portrait of civil unrest, intimidation and injustice.

His clinical approach begs feverish debate about how much progress we have honestly made over the past five decades towards an inclusive, multicultural global community. The film sees R&B group The Dramatics poised to perform on the night of July 25, 1967, but rioting forces the venue to suspend the concert.

Charismatic singer Larry (Algee Smith) and his friend Fred Temple (Jacob Latimore) seek shelter at the Algiers Motel, where they catch the eye of two white guests, Julie Ann (Hannah Murray) and Karen (Kaitlyn Dever). The foursome head to the room of Carl Cooper (Jason Mitchell), who decides to antagonise police by firing a starter pistol out of his window.

The authorities mistake foolhardy high jinks for sniper fire and armed men in uniform descend on the hotel.

Police officers Philip Krauss (Will Poulter), Flynn (Ben O’Toole) and Demens (Jack Reynor) are among the first on the scene. They line up several guests against a wall and threaten violence unless someone identifies the marksman.

Private security guard Melvin Dismukes (John Boyega) witnesses the abuse with mounting horror. Handheld camerawork stokes tension and sweat-drenched performances from a fine ensemble cast are horribly believable.

Most striking is London-born actor Poulter’s fearless embodiment of a racist cop, who believes the badge on his chest shields him from the long arm of the law.

RATING: 7.5/10

DAMON SMITH