Time August 19, 2019with the rapper, his devoted family and Roc Na-
tion staffers including founder Jay-Z, a portrait
coalesces of a talented young artist who saw his ca-
reer thwarted time and again by a rigged system.
Lawyers (including Brinkley’s, caught on a hot
mic) attest to the absurdity of Meek’s ordeal; Roll-
ing Stone reporter Paul Solotaroff recalls, “I had
never seen a case built on less.”The doc also illuminaTes several of the
broader but less publicized issues Meek’s story ex-
emplifies, drawing attention to the hardships faced
by the 4.5 million Americans caught in the proba-
tion system, demonstrating how one minor convic-
tion can lead to a lifetime in the system. Brinkley’s
near sovereign power over Meek’s fate is hardly
unique, even if her backstory and the details of
their relationship are remarkable. (He claims she
pressured him to record a remix of Boyz II Men’s
“On Bended Knee” featuring shout-outs to women
who’d helped him— Brinkley included. She denies
it.) Less shocking but more damning is the revela-
tion of the role dirty cops played in his initial arrest.
It’s only one of many infuriating discoveries
made by the private investigators who turned the
tide in Meek’s favor after he returned to prison in
2017, in a decision that drew the outrage of fans
and activists. The final two episodes follow his al-
lies’ ultimately successful efforts to extricate him
from Brinkley’s grasp. (His original conviction was
finally overturned in July.) If the transition from
deep dive to detective story feels bumpy, both por-
tions are equally important. Only someone from
Meek’s background could be ensnared in a saga like
this one—and only someone with the cultural foot-
print he’s established since his arrest could make
such common injustices front-page news. On Jan. 24, 2007, 19-year-Old rOberT rihmeek
Williams was arrested on his South Philly doorstep.
He doesn’t recall everything that happened next be-
cause, he says, police beat him so severely that he
kept losing consciousness. Facing 19 drug, firearms
and assault charges— including the allegation that
he’d pointed a gun at a cop—he opted for a nonjury
trial for financial reasons, was convicted on seven
counts despite a lack of evidence and received a
two-year prison sentence. But it’s the eight years of
probation supervised by Genece Brinkley, a tough
judge who seems to have obsessed over this case,
that have consigned Williams to over a decade of
legal turmoil, including more time behind bars.
It’s hard to imagine Williams’ story—one that’s
all too common for young black men in America—
making headlines if he weren’t better known as
Meek Mill, a rapper who’s worked with Rick Ross,
beefed with Drake and been engaged to Nicki
Minaj. Inextricable from racism, poverty and mass
incarceration, the relationship between hip-hop
and crime has always been fraught. Yet Meek’s case
recalls Kafka’s The Trial more than the legal woes
of some of his contemporaries. It’s made him an
activist for criminal- justice reform, as documented
in Amazon Prime’s Free Meek, out Aug. 9.
As its title suggests, the five-part docuseries
makes no claims of impartiality. Produced in part
by his record label, Roc Nation, it seeks to vindi-
cate Meek—and call for changes that could help his
less fortunate counterparts. Through interviews
MUSIC
A rapper’s long
fight for justice
By Judy Berman
TimeOff Reviews
THE ART OF RACING IN THE RAIN: 20TH CENTURY FOX; FREE MEEK, ONE CHILD NATION: AMAZON
△
The image of a
bandaged, beaten
19-year-old
Meek has become a
symbol of the fight
for criminal- justice
reform