TWO of the most prominent of all the world’s ugly certainties are: that people of colour are still being treated atrociously and that racism runs rampant in America. Ava DuVernay’s new miniseries on Netflix, “When They See Us,” presents both facts in stark, graphic, disturbing, and disorienting detail. The show offers its viewers an America of the past, without neglecting to ensure that we are able to observe how markedly unchanged it is from the America of the present, where people of colour are still mistreated, used as pawns, and forced to experience the worst aspects of racism.

“When They See Us” tells the story of the Central Park Five, a group of five boys of colour in their early teens who were apprehended in 1989 after being out in Central Park on the same night that a white, female jogger was brutally beaten and raped. The show explores how the five boys come to be convicted for the crime, even though they were all innocent, and the various ways in which each of them and his respective family were affected by the unjust incarcerations.

The show begins by presenting the boys on the day that the Central Park jogging case took place. DuVernay ensures that we see them as they are, as children – young, playful, hopeful, full of joy and goodness. She makes sure that we see the important relationships in their lives: Kevin and his sister, Angie; Antron and his father, Bobby; Yusef and his friend; and Korey and his girlfriend, Lisa. These opening moments are important because they highlight much of what will be lost, what will be taken away when these young boys of colour are stripped of their family and friends, their bonds and protection, their comfort, love, and sense of security, the moment they step into Central Park on that fateful night in 1989. The casting of these particular actors are well done, as each actor manages to evoke the particular themes and sentiments that are peculiar to each individual character being played while also maintaining the sense of the familiar, a sense of unity and togetherness between the actors playing their family members and friends, something that comes naturally with friends and family.

Notable standouts from among the cast include Asante Blackk who turns in a dynamite, emotional performance that forces us to experience the fear and exploitation experienced by black boys in America. The other actors who portray the young versions of the rest of the Central Park Five: Jharrel Jerome as Korey, Caleel Harris as Antron, Ethan Herisse as Yusef, and Marquis Rodriguez as Raymond, are equally outstanding in their roles, conveying the uncertainty, the desperation, the confusion and sadness that their real-life counterparts no doubt experienced. The interrogation scenes, where the boys are separated from their families and coerced into giving false confessions are especially well acted. I watched these scenes in the first episode in a room filled with about fifteen people and more than half of them cried during the interrogation scenes. It is gut-wrenching stuff and many people have, understandably, refused to expose themselves to such heavy grief and sorrow.

Jharrel Jerome was the only actor to play both the young and adult versions of his character, and for that, he deserves special commendation. Although probably best known for his role in Barry Jenkins’ Oscar-winning film, “Moonlight,” Jerome truly comes to the fore in “When They See Us,” playing both a sweet-natured boy intent on protecting his friend as well as the tough, damaged man that he grows up to be. This transition in acting between two phases in the life of a single character is one of the best that I have seen in a TV show and Jerome pulls the whole thing off spectacularly well. Of course, DuVernay also deserves some of the credit, especially as the writer and director who executed the striking and disturbing scenes of Korey’s psyche when in prison. Dreamlike and beautiful, horrific and daunting – Korey’s time in solitary is expressed in clever blocking and shots that emphasize the high quality of DuVernay’s storytelling abilities, proving that she is as capable of writing and handling a camera as she is at pulling strong and efficient performances from her actors.

Niecy Nash also stands out as Korey’s transphobic, drug-pushing mother in a thunderous performance, while Aunjanue Ellis matches her in what can only be described as a quietly simmering storm of a role. Kylie Bunbury and John Leguizamo also stand out with subtle performances, as does Vera Farmiga and Logan Marshall-Green.

Despite the blood, the rape, and the prison violence, the scariest thing about “When They See Us” is how casually the boys were determined as being guilty of the crime they did not commit, how quickly they were entered into a narrative that altered all of their lives forever, how easy it was to frame those boys of colour, to send them away to prison, to violence and dead ends, to broken bones and bruised faces, to hate and crime and loveless lives.

Scarier than all that, of course, is the fact that, for coloured people today in Trump’s America, none of it has really changed.