A VITAL STORY OF SLAVERY
Birth of a Nation won’t be the last
In 1831, as a 22-year-old Abraham Lincoln was trying to figure out what to do with his life, a Virginian named Nat Turner, born into slavery, led a revolt to end the scourge of African-American bondage once and for all.
He failed — numbers and passion being no match for militias and firepower — but not before some 60 whites were killed, followed by several hundred blacks, many of them having played no part in the rebellion. The story resonates today, both as an important early chapter in the sordid tale of American race relations, and as frightfully good cinematic drama.
Nate Parker, the first-time director who co-wrote the screenplay and stars as Turner, clearly understands the incendiary nature of the story. It’s right there in the name: The Birth of a Nation is also the title of a 1915 film (originally called The Clansman), that portrays the Ku Klux Klan in a sympathetic light, and may have helped in the group’s resurgence at the time.
This re-Birth puts us in close contact with Turner from a young age, never failing to show how his life is dictated by the whims of his white masters. Taught to read at an early age by matriarch Elizabeth Turner (he took his last name from his owners, as was the custom), he nonetheless becomes a field hand for her son Samuel, played by Armie Hammer.
In a film full of such polarizing figures as a sadistic bounty hunter (Jackie Earle Haley), and Turner’s oppressed confederates, Samuel quickly becomes one of its most fascinating characters. He is the quiet rebuke to those who are certain they would go all Django Unchained if set down in the antebellum South.
Born into privilege, Samuel is not unkind, but neither does he challenge the status quo. Also, he clearly enjoys the drink more than is good for him, and his weak personal compass means Turner is able to suggest the purchase of Cherry (Aja Naomi King), a downtrodden slave whom Turner eventually marries.
Samuel’s suggestible nature also comes into play when the local preacher (Mark Boone Junior), suggests that the well-spoken Turner put his powers of rhetoric to good use, preaching to slaves at nearby farms on the importance of obedience and the heavenly rewards of earthly submission.
But ironically, it is on this circuit that Turner sees even more inhumane treatment of fellow slaves, and hones the skills that will help him lead a rebellion. In the film’s closest approach to a funny scene,
Turner delivers a rousing speech that amounts to a denunciation of the white power structure, and his masters aren’t paying close enough attention to grasp what he’s saying right in front of them.
Not that The Birth of a Nation is ever less than solemn. There is a scene late in the film in which a slave is whipped; with each crack of the lash, one can feel the cloak of civilization tearing asunder.
Oddly — and perhaps unfairly — the film suffers a little in comparison with Steve McQueen’s 12 Years a Slave, which won the best-picture Oscar for 2013, with its true story of Solomon Northup, abducted from New York in 1841 and sold into slavery. McQueen, London-born and with a history of short experimental films, perhaps felt a less visceral need to tell his story; the result is quieter and all the more powerful for it, whereas Parker’s movie staggers forward, eager to engage its viewer.
That’s not necessarily a bad thing. There are no doubt as many ways to frame the history of slavery as there are filmmakers — just look at Quentin Tarantino’s Django and Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln, both from 2012. Parker’s story of the slave rebellion of 1831 is a vital part of the conversation — neither the first word nor, sadly, the last.