Politics of Historical Drama

"Selma" is a movie that seems will remain prominent in popular discourse on history and race for some time to come, at least if screenings of it continue to reappear every Martin Luther King Jr. Day and February during Black History Month, Paramount continues to stream it for free when racial issues are front-page news, or school teachers continue to look for something that seems both educational and a way to keep students quiet while they hardly do any work themselves. It's not as though there have been very many biopics of Martin Luther King Jr., either, or even historical pictures about the civil rights movement. As original and always timely as "Selma" may be in that regard, it otherwise seems similar to another political biopic, if not hagiography, "Lincoln" (2012). Both focus on historical figures who've reached saintly proportions in the American imagination, both for their leadership in struggles against racist legal systems, and both movies largely avoid the simplistic good-vs-evil plot of the hero squaring off against the baddie in favor of focusing on the internal politics of the movement, whether in working the votes to pass the 13th Amendment or, 100 years later, in organizing the Selma-to-Montgomery marches to raise the issue of the Voting Rights Act.

With less focus on the likes of Alabama Governor George Wallace or Sheriff Jim Clark as evil obstacles to overcome, although that is still there on the margins, "Selma," instead focuses on conflicts between King's Southern Christian Leadership Conference and John Lewis's branch of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, but most prominently and controversially, there's the picture's battle of wills between King and President Lyndon Johnson. I'm not a historical expert on the matter and so won't get into the weeds on how accurate the portrayal of LBJ is here or whether the filmmakers veered too far in their avoidance of white-savior tropes towards historical inaccuracy. Indeed, it seems odd to me that a president wouldn't be eager to pass a bill that guarantees voting rights to a constituency that reliably votes upwards of over 90% for their party, but, then, this was the same administration consumed by the Vietnam War, so perhaps his priorities were at least questionable. Regardless, there've since been a couple bland biopics on Johnson since, for those interested: "All the Way" and "LBJ" (both 2016).

By focusing on the likes of King, Lewis and company, at least we get a greater sense of the grass-roots nature of the civil rights movement. One doesn't get the same view from privileging Washington, especially from a president whose FBI director was actively undermining the civil rights movement, including by attacking the marriage of the King family, as seen in "Selma." These were rights achieved by activists and civilians, by shocking TV coverage of demonstrations and calls to action from the likes of King to galvanize people of all races to support equality. So, while "Selma" does partly follow a great-man-narrative with its focus on King, the trajectory of progress is from the ground up. There's a reason King accepting the Nobel Peace Prize shares the picture's opening with the tragedy of the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing and the everyday discrimination of Annie Lee Cooper (although casting Oprah Winfrey in this part arguably undermines the focus on common people somewhat) being denied the right to vote.

"Selma" isn't perfect. Depicting the bombing in slow motion seems tactless. And the filmmakers don't entirely escape the pitfalls of the genre for grandstanding and speechifying even when characters aren't delivering speeches or in front of cameras. Nevertheless, David Oyelowo is outstanding as King--managing to appear forceful without being showy. The backstory of the internal politics behind the marches holds interest, and I like the inclusion of archival footage of the real event at the end. "Selma" is a palatable-enough treatment of historically significant events to be worthy of its prominence.