The time is right for a film like “Selma.” Though director
Ava DuVernay’s focus is the riveting
behind-the-scenes story of a pivotal moment in the civil rights movement —
documenting Martin Luther King Jr.’s campaign to get the Voting Rights Act
passed by staging marches from Selma, Alabama, to the state capitol in
Montgomery — the way in which the history it presents is reflected in the
recent protests in Ferguson, Missouri, New York City, and all around the
country (including here in Rochester), lends the film an immediacy that’s
lacking from your standard, glossy, Oscar bait-y biopics. As the film looks
back, it offers some insight to where we are right now. It offers a harsh
reminder that the injustices it depicts are still with us, but reminds us that
no matter how bad things seem, there’s always hope for change.
Beginning
just after the passing of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, which ended segregation in
the South, the film opens with scenes that offer an explanation as to why King
(British actor David Oyelowo) decided Alabama was the
right place to wage this particular battle. The film depicts the 1963 bombing
of a church in Birmingham which left four little girls dead, as well as smaller
actions like the voter suppression tactics practiced by state officials to keep
blacks out of the voting booths (another way in which the films reminds us how
little things have changed). As King arrives in town, flanked by his inner
circle and members of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, he meets
with local activists to prepare the proper course of action as they square off
against Alabama’s racist governor, George Wallace (Tim Roth).
King remains
the central figure, but DuVernay makes a point to
show how the movement’s accomplishments were the result of these activists,
religious leaders, and students working together. Some of the films meatiest
scenes revolve around heated debates among the group about where to focus their
energies and what tactics will be most effective to advancing the cause. The
way the script dramatizes the strategizing, maneuvering and occasional missteps
required to change history is thrilling to watch.
The films also depicts King’s meetings with Lyndon B. Johnson (Tom Wilkinson), as the men negotiate how much support
the president will offer the movement. DuVernay has
faced some criticism over the accuracy of these scenes and the way the film
suggests that Johnson wasn’t as immediately supportive as he should have been.
Whether or not it’s historically accurate, I found it to be a fair portrayal — it’s clear Johnson is not unsympathetic to the cause, just
overly pragmatic about the pressures he faces on any number of issues, all
crucial to the running of a nation, where his priorities should lie. It’s a
nuanced portrayal, which contrasts with the film’s depiction of Governor
Wallace, who as written and performed, comes across as too much of a
caricatured villain.
“Selma” is
equally frank and unflinching in its depiction of the movement’s physical
battles, during events like “Bloody Sunday,” when the demonstrators’ first
attempt to march results in a virtual bloodbath as they attempt to cross the
Edmund Pettus Bridge. Watching the horror unfold,
it’s impossible not to draw parallels between the sight of protesters tear
gassed and beaten and the nearly identical images that dominated the national
news just a few months ago. But here, the camera refuses to allow us to remain
a casual observer, and we’re placed squarely in the line of fire. Here the
film’s brilliant cinematographer, Bradford Young, proves equally capable of
capturing brutality as he is at creating stunningly beautiful compositions.
Despite
being produced by Oprah Winfrey (who takes on a small role as real-life voting
rights activist Annie Lee Cooper), DuVernay and
screenwriter Paul Webb weren’t granted the rights to King’s speeches, forcing
them to use paraphrased versions of his orations, but the fact that you’d never
notice speaks to the strength and power of the writing. They’re aided by Oyelowo’s magnificent, charismatic performance. His richly
textured portrayal presents King as a thoughtful man who’s often confounded by
the weight that rests on his shoulders. Though epic in scope, “Selma” maintains
a startling intimacy. It plays into the way the filmmakers avoid hagiography,
not treating King as a saint or avoiding his indiscretions — there’s a tense
scene in which his wife, Coretta (played with grace and great strength by Carmen
Ejogo), confronts him about his infidelities. But
these imperfections serve to make his achievements all the more remarkable. It
gains power from showing that for all of King’s famous dreaming, what really
made the difference was the hard work an entire community was willing to put
in. In doing so, “Selma” allows us to see both how far
we’ve come as a nation, and how long a journey we still have before us.
This article appears in Jan 7-13, 2015.
