WASHINGTON 鈥� Back in January, Nate Parker’s “The聽Birth of a Nation” became the early favorite for Best Picture 2017,聽winning聽Sundance聽as聽the great indie hope for an antidote to last year’s “Oscars So White” protests, inking the 聽studio deal ever聽out of the聽festival at $17.5 million by Fox Searchlight.
My, what聽changes聽10 months can bring. By late summer, an聽old had resurfaced over聽rape accusations against Parker and screenwriter Jean Celestin during聽their time as聽collegiate wrestlers at Penn State in 1999.聽Parker was acquitted on all charges, Celestin was convicted of sexual assault聽in a ruling that was聽 four years later,聽and the accuser tragically committed suicide in 2012.
“Birth of a Nation” star and rape survivor Gabrielle Union 聽in The L.A. Times: “As important and groundbreaking as this film is, I cannot take these allegations lightly,” while Parker himself hit “60 Minutes” with a 聽interview:聽“I was falsely accused 鈥� I went to court 鈥� I was vindicated. I feel terrible that this woman isn鈥檛 here 鈥� Her family had to deal with that, but as I sit here, an apology is 鈥� no.鈥� 海角社区app was set to interview Parker聽in person聽on聽Sept. 26,聽but the聽press tour was canceled.
And so we’re left with the age-old debate of whether to separate the art from the artist, as we have for other famous聽filmmakers. Sexual assault allegations have also plagued visionary directors like Roman Polanski and Woody Allen, yet we still hold up “Chinatown” and “Annie Hall” as masterpieces, just as we still worship Michael Jackson’s music and rank “The Cosby Show” among TV history’s best.
Is it possible to admire the Huxtables, dance to “Thriller,” gasp at “Rosemary’s Baby” and laugh at “la-di-da” while we condemn their creators’ personal-life controversies? For many, the answer is simply no. But for the sake of discussion, how聽does “The聽Birth of a Nation” hold up on its own merits?
Set in 19th century Virginia, the biopic聽explores聽the causes of聽Nat Turner’s 1831 slave rebellion in Southampton. It chronicles Turner (Nate Parker) from boyhood to adulthood, falling in love聽with fellow slave Cherry (Aja Naomi King),聽working the fields for聽plantation master Samuel Turner (Armie Hammer), and learning to read the Bible by the master’s wife聽Elizabeth聽(Penelope Ann Miller).
Turner uses his聽literacy to preach to slaves on nearby plantations, but聽becomes disillusioned upon realizing his聽Old Testament sermons are being聽used to keep slaves subservient. After the brutality of violent slave master Raymond Cobb (Jackie Earl Haley), Turner聽feels a divine calling to lead a against their oppressors,聽killing roughly 55 white people, followed by聽white mobs聽killing 100-200 African Americans聽in retaliation, before Turner’s surrender聽to be hanged in聽Jerusalem, Virginia.
As a piece of art, it’s a stirring聽directorial debut filled with聽 atmosphere, as the camera slowly pulls back to one of the most chilling聽songs ever聽recorded by聽Billie Holiday and Nina Simone. Against this backdrop,聽Parker paints Turner as a messianic figure with Biblical imagery, witnessing聽a solar eclipse as a sign from above, seizing聽revenge with a glowing crucifix on the wall, betrayed by a follower聽like Judas, standing in a聽Christ silhouette in jail and walking聽to his public death in Jerusalem.
The key difference聽is that neither Jesus nor Joan of Arc ever killed anyone before their聽execution. Turner’s martyr has blood on his hands (women and children) like William Wallace, only instead of shouting, “Freedom,” it’s a restrained, “I’m ready.” Here, Parker offers聽avant-garde hallucinations, from over-the-top visions of an聽angel, to brilliant nightmares of a聽young Turner聽running from a lynch mob only to be聽shielded by his adult聽self, building聽to聽a hopeful glimpse of the Civil War’s .
From start to finish, it’s a聽stronger directorial聽statement than it is a piece of writing, but daring visual flourishes help to mask the more uneven or clich茅d parts of the narrative. It’d be a mistake to judge these too harshly for聽a first-time feature writer (Parker for screenplay, Celestin for聽story), as there are signs of dialogue聽working on multiple levels. After Turner reads a Bible verse about masters being superior to their聽slaves, the script cuts to two slave masters laughing:聽“Let’s sit around and tell lies.”
For all these clever double meanings, there’s no getting around the albatross baked into the script: the catalyst聽for the rebellion聽is the rape of Turner’s wife. Sensitive viewers may cringe at the subtext of Parker’s similar real-life dispute,聽breaking聽the audience-filmmaker illusion and briefly taking them out of the film. Thankfully, the incident is left off screen far more than advanced press suggested.
As for Parker’s performance, it’s a breakout聽leading role after聽supporting聽Denzel Washington in “The Great Debaters” (2007) and Terrence Howard in “Red Tails” (2012).聽His acting skills are best on display in three scenes: (1) choking聽up at the sight of his wife’s brutalized body with the gasping shock of聽Emmett Till; (2) challenging his master’s Old Testament聽quotes with contradictory Biblical quotes like Jesus calling out the Pharisees; and (3) leading a rousing sermon to his fellow slaves to provide hope of breaking their chains, while the plantation聽owners stand oblivious,聽hearing but not listening.
The聽above achievements by a singular voice 鈥� producing, directing, writing and starring 鈥� will earn comparisons to Kevin Costner in “Dances with Wolves” (1990) or Mel Gibson in “Braveheart” (1995). But while both of those films won聽Best Picture,聽neither of their filmmakers were mired in controversy at the time. Can you imagine if Gibson’s anti-Semitic rant聽broke during that Oscar race? Game over.
So as we enter the fall award season, the film is looking聽nowhere near like the Best Picture horse that was initially predicted out of Sundance, saddled with too much baggage to make it to the finish line. The allegations aren’t the only Oscar challenge; an equal hurdle聽is聽the over-saturation of the genre.
On the one hand, “The Birth of a Nation” (2016) provides a centennial聽bookend聽to D.W. Griffith’s inventive yet racist 1915 Ku Klux Klan film of the same title, which President Woodrow Wilson hailed: 鈥淚t’s like writing history with lightning.聽My only regret is that it is all so terribly true.鈥澛營t’s an聽important reminder of聽the horrors lurking off screen in epics like “Gone With the Wind” (1939).
On the other hand, Parker’s film lacks聽the originality of “Roots” (1977), the cast聽of “Glory” (1989), the dialogue of “Django” (2012) and the compositions聽of “12 Years a Slave” (2013), a masterpiece that’ll easily聽be the film聽to represent this genre on best lists. Why pick Parker when you can have McQueen, Ridley, Ejiofor, Fassbender, Cumberbatch, Nyong’o, Giamatti, Dano, Woodard, Pitt and Paulson?
Beyond the genre, you聽could argue that George Stevens’ “Giant” (1956), Robert Mulligan’s”To Kill a Mockingbird” (1962), Norman Jewison’s “In the Heat of the Night” (1967), Stanley Kramer’s “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” (1967), Spike Lee’s “Do the Right Thing” (1989) and John Singleton’s聽“Boyz N the Hood” (1991) all showed greater moral courage than Parker at a time when it wasn’t as trendy.
In the 21st century, Hollywood’s sincere goal should be for聽African-American filmmakers聽to take on a wider range of roles and subjects that exceed the confines of聽race, rather than rich white producers offering聽“40 acres and a mule” in this one limited genre of the slave drama. This is the key to breaking the #OscarsSoWhite diversity problem, rather than segregating into a “Black Cinema” subgenre.
In the end, the Oscars may honor聽“Birth” with a Best Picture nomination in our new crowded 10-film field,聽but it’s unlikely to win simply because it’s coming three years after “12 Years a Slave.” It’s the same as Holocaust dramas聽released just after “Schindler’s List” (1993);聽Roberto Benigni’s “Life is Beautiful” (1997) and Roman Polanski’s “The Pianist” (2002) won Best Actor, but not Best Picture.
Which brings us full circle to the Polanski-Parker conversation. An exiled and聽驳耻颈濒迟测-辫濒别补诲颈苍驳听Polanski was awarded Best Director 25聽years after his trial, while an acquitted Parker is competing聽17 years after his trial 鈥� albeit only six months聽after the case really came to light for most voters and viewers.
Personally, I think the听补谤迟 itself is a powerful, provocative, timely debut. As聽for Parker, it will be up to each voter’s conscience. In an age聽of increased sexual assault awareness, it’s hard to judge voters put off by the ordeal, channeling Parker: “Her family had to deal with that, but as I sit here, an Oscar? No.鈥�
It’s hard to pull that lever on a聽film that聽asks us to acknowledge our own messy past as a nation, while its creator openly struggles to do the same. Less defiance and more remorse would go a long way, for America loves redemption stories if the person shows at least awareness and at most聽repentance.
Regardless, it’s time for constructive聽conversation rather than knee-jerk reactions.聽Don’t聽get your rocks off throwing rocks at Parker. Like the book Nat Turner聽preached,聽“Let he without sin cast the first stone.” Forgiveness is divine. That’s what this case is all about. Beyond debates聽of “art vs. artist,” “white vs. black,” “guilty vs. innocent,” the real question is: Can we take the high road and forgive?
If those grieving families at that historically black church in聽Charleston, South Carolina can look in the eyes of their loved ones’ white-supremacist killer, lips quivering to say, “I forgive you,”聽it’s not impossible聽for a nation to bind the deep wounds of its past with the healing power of forgiveness.
Forget the Oscar race; that’s amazing grace.
