'Moses the Black': Omar Epps channels ancient saint’s story in modern tale of crime, consequence and grace

In “Moses the Black,” Omar Epps plays a man who has built his life on fear and loyalty, only to realize that the power he commands might be destroying the people he loves most. The film asks whether someone forged in violence can still choose a different path and find redemption, and whether that choice, once made, is enough.
“Redemption is possible,” the 52-year-old New York native told The Christian Post. “Even for people who’ve done real damage; even for people who think they’re beyond it.”
Epps, best known for his work on “E.R.” and “House,” stars as Malik, a Chicago gang leader who experiences growing moral unease as his world crumbles around him. His plight mirrors the ancient story that inspired the film: that of St. Moses the Black, a fourth-century Ethiopian who, according to legend, went from enslaved thief and gang leader to revered monk and spiritual father.
“When we talk about redemption, that’s universal,” Epps said. “This isn’t just an urban story or a black-and-brown story. People in every walk of life make choices that hurt others. The question is whether you can face that and change.”
Malik, haunted in his dreams by an ancient monk walking through desert sands, finally has a turning point when he begins to suspect that his power might be poisoning the very community he believes he's protecting.
“He’s looking at his actions and their results over and over again,” Epps said. “He starts asking if he’s led his people astray. And once he realizes he has to become the change, the film becomes the process of him trying to do that.”
“Moses the Black,” produced by rapper 50 Cent and co-starring Quavo, is not a faith-based film despite its spiritual undertones; it’s a rough Chicago gang drama, filled with strong language, violence and street retaliation.
Writer-director Yelena Popovic told CP that she’d long been moved by the story of St. Moses, particularly the extremity of his transformation. But she struggled with how to make that story resonate, she said, until she imagined it unfolding through the eyes of a present-day gangster in Chicago.
“In the fourth century, there were so many holy people from Africa who shaped Christianity,” she said. “I was very moved by St. Moses’ story when I heard it, but then I felt that I wanted to bring him to today's world. The story is very relevant, and I felt that he could be a role model. It shows that no soul is beyond redemption. I thought telling it this way would do justice to his story.”
To do that, she worked closely with Reginald Akeem Barry Sr., a former Chicago gang member who is now an executive producer on the film and a community mentor for young men trying to leave street life behind.
“When I learned about St. Moses, I saw myself,” Barry said.
Barry rose through Chicago’s street organizations in the 1980s and 1990s, joining not out of a desire for crime, he said, but for belonging. He emphasized that for him, while advising on the movie, authenticity was non-negotiable, showing both the allure and the cost of gang membership.
“People join for brotherhood, for family,” he said. “But that same structure can trap you. This story had to stay raw. If it wasn’t real, the people it’s meant for wouldn’t listen.”
Watching the finished film, Barry told CP he found himself in tears. The fictional arc of Malik, he said, echoed the real journeys of men he had known, and the one he himself had taken when he stepped away from gang life to found an organization helping others do the same. Today, he runs Saving Our Sons, a Chicago-based organization that helps young men get off the streets.
“It doesn’t take courage to become part of the crowd,” Barry said. “It takes courage to stand out from it.”
Still, that courage, in the film, is inseparable from consequence. Epps, author of From Fatherless to Fatherhood, stressed that redemption doesn’t always mean instant absolution.
“Redemption doesn’t erase consequences,” he said. “Part of it is suffering through them. You don’t just do a bunch of bad and wake up good one day. That’s the cinematic version. Real change costs you something.”
Barry echoed Epp’s sentiment, stressing that hope can feel scarce in environments where survival dictates every decision and cycles of harm repeat across generations.
“I am hoping that through this movie, guys can see that, even if you run into perils, if you have a hardship, if you have a fall, there's an opportunity to get back on your feet. That's your personal responsibility, to get back on your feet and strive to do something better, because there are consequences for your actions.”
Music plays a key role in the film; a soundtrack shaped through the help of Wiz Khalifa, who also appears on screen, adds a haunting tone to several scenes, hinting at the internal struggle Malik can’t articulate. In working with the composer, Costas Christides, Popovic said she described certain violent sequences as “requiems,” adding: “Beneath the violence there are souls, there is mourning.”
“The music makes it very poetic,” she said. “I wanted to elevate the story in a way because this is a story … about people’s souls. The music elevates the spiritual side of the story. You cannot dramatize the spirituality. The drama comes from conflict, and the movie has plenty of conflict, but [Christides] managed to do what I asked him to do, to bring us into the story and give us that layer of spirituality.”
What Epps hopes audiences carry with them is not merely whether Malik changes, but the mirror the story holds up to anyone weighing their own past choices. True healing and redemption, he emphasized, can break in anywhere, even in the bleakest of circumstances — but that requires a heart change.
“I hope people look inward first,” he said. “I hope younger viewers see more than a cautionary tale, and older generations feel a responsibility to reach back and help.”
“A lot of times it's not just conversation, it's action, but action is not a singular thing,” Epps added. “It's a community thing; communities can come together and find ways to offer resources and other pathways. Ultimately, redemption is possible … keep that hope, no matter how fleeting it may seem. It exists, and it's real.”
“Moses the Black” is now in theaters.
Leah M. Klett is a reporter for The Christian Post. She can be reached at: leah.klett@christianpost.com












