A film evocative of the true agony of racial discrimination and enmity is rare, if it exists at all. Most often depicted as an event, bracketed by time and space, the enduring haunt of such trauma is most often lost. But in real life there is no such evaporation, and even a repressed memory insists on an emotionally erosive vigilance against further attacks.

Pride, based on a true story of an African-American swim team fighting for the right to compete in the early 1970s, succeeds in bringing a bit more of this emotional hue to the screen. Although it is never stated in the film, integrated swim meets are unsung and underrated milestones in the struggle for civil rights. Racist mythology always includes a perverse pathogenic component; in this case, “What disease might one contract?” from sharing a swimming pool with Negroes.

Jim Ellis (Terrance Howard), an African American and former collegiate swimmer with a degree in mathematics, is looking for a job, hopefully as a coach or teacher. In the minds of some, the fact that he has designs on such positions questions his intelligence to fulfill either one.

The employment he settles for involves preparing a dilapidated, ghetto recreation facility for demolition. The welcoming committee is anything but. Outside the building, Jim encounters an impudent group of Black teenagers who gather daily on the basketball court. Inside, he finds the crotchety old janitor, Elston (Bernie Mac), holed up in the basement, having given up on himself and the dissipating edifice he is paid to maintain.

In the process of packing up what little redeemable equipment remains at the community center, Ellis comes upon a swimming pool. Coincidentally, the outdoor basketball rim comes down with the dismantling of the building. With a bit of coaxing, and a healthy exchange of trash-talk, the erstwhile hoopsters are soon swimming laps and practicing strokes — an actual swim team.

But finding organizations willing to compete with Blacks is a task exceeded only by the difficulty of convincing schools to attend a meet at the inner-city facility. By fits and starts, the team begins to find competition and itself.

Bernie Mac, usually seen in comedic roles, is superb in his role as the dour maintenance man. Terrance Howard is solid as the proverbial trailblazer, and Tom Arnold is average as a cookie-cutter racist coach.

What could have been just another serving in the steady diet of Black-athletes-overcoming-racism films, Pride manages to transcend its predecessors. It captures the dignity that was once associated with the resilience and courage to take racism’s best shots, while maintaining one’s equanimity and keep on keepin’-on.