The Unforgettable Heat of a Single Day
To watch Do the Right Thing is to feel the oppressive heat of its setting: the hottest day of the summer in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. The film masterfully builds tension, layer by layer. We see the simmering frustrations of a vibrant Black community,
the casual prejudices of the Italian-American family running the local pizzeria, and the ever-present beat of Public Enemy's "Fight the Power" from Radio Raheem's boombox. The central conflict seems straightforward: Buggin' Out's demand that Sal, the pizzeria owner, add Black faces to his "Wall of Fame," which exclusively features Italian-American icons. This demand, coupled with the suffocating heat and years of unspoken grievances, eventually leads to a tragic confrontation, a police killing, and a riot that leaves Sal's Famous Pizzeria in ashes. Viewers remember Mookie throwing the trash can, Radio Raheem's death, and the fire. But another story unfolds in plain sight.
Meet Smiley, The Man with the Pictures
Wandering through the neighborhood is Smiley, a young man with a severe stutter, played by Roger Guenveur Smith. He is easily dismissed by other characters and often by the audience, fading into the background of a film packed with vivid personalities. Throughout the day, Smiley attempts to sell hand-colored pictures of two men: Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X. He struggles to articulate their importance, but his mission is clear. He holds up these two titans of the Civil Rights movement, representing what seem to be opposing ideologies—nonviolent resistance versus self-defense "by any means necessary." Most characters brush him off. He's a part of the local scenery, a minor note in a loud symphony. But Smiley and his pictures are not just background color; they are the film's conscience and its central thematic device.
Two Icons, One Ideological Struggle
The photos Smiley carries represent the core philosophical conflict of the film, a debate personified by other characters. Da Mayor, the neighborhood elder, preaches a philosophy of peace and personal responsibility, echoing Dr. King's path. In contrast, Radio Raheem and Buggin' Out embody a more confrontational approach, demanding respect and representation, much like the message associated with Malcolm X. The film doesn't pick a side. Radio Raheem's iconic "love" and "hate" rings tell the story of an internal and external battle. Smiley, in his quiet, persistent way, isn't offering a choice between his two heroes. He presents them together, a unified front. He has created a single image that contains both philosophies, suggesting they are not mutually exclusive but two halves of a whole strategy for Black liberation.
The Quiet Act Amidst the Chaos
The film's climax is a whirlwind of violence and grief. After police choke Radio Raheem to death, a stunned and enraged Mookie hurls a trash can through the window of Sal's, inciting a full-blown riot. The crowd descends, destroying the pizzeria. It’s loud, chaotic, and heartbreaking. But in the midst of the destruction, Smiley performs the film's most significant symbolic act. As flames engulf the restaurant, he walks through the wreckage, past the smashed furniture and broken glass. He approaches the now-ruined Wall of Fame, the very symbol of the day's conflict. Carefully, he pins his picture—the one showing Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X together—onto the wall. He then steps back and, for the first time, a genuine smile spreads across his face as he is illuminated by the flames.
A New Face on the Wall of Fame
This is the detail many viewers miss, caught up in the fury of the riot. Smiley’s action is the film’s ultimate thesis statement. In the ashes of a business that refused to acknowledge Black heroes, he finally puts one up—not just one, but a united image of two. His act transcends the binary choice between peace and violence that the film’s final title cards, quoting both leaders, famously pose to the audience. Smiley doesn't choose MLK over Malcolm, or vice versa. Instead, he consecrates the space with an image of their combined strength. He suggests that the struggle for justice requires both the moral clarity of Dr. King and the unapologetic demand for self-determination of Malcolm X. The voiceless character, dismissed all day, gets the final word. He completes Buggin' Out's quest, but on his own profound terms, leaving us with a powerful, and often overlooked, image of unity in the struggle.
