Review of the film Selma

"Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable... Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals.”     
                          - Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

     There are so many angles a review of Selma could take. The timeliness of a film centered on the American Civil Rights Movement is undeniable. Race is at the forefront of discussions all over our national media. And names like Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Renisha McBride, and Eric Gardner sound like echoes of those that resonated so loudly in the country’s ears nearly 50 years ago. This story is uncannily familiar in our current cultural moment. It could seem like we have come so far since the 60s in regards to civil rights, yet it is blatantly apparent that there is still very far to go. 

     Following Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. as he works with other dedicated and passionate black activists, the film focuses its lens on a few weeks of time during the movement. This short period was the lead-up to that historical protest march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama that precluded President Lyndon B. Johnson’s signing of the 1965 Voting Rights Act. Director Ava DuVernay chooses this angle instead of the usual biographic tactic of attempting to provide a neat narrative arch to an entire life. It is a fruitful choice, as it gives the proceedings a streamlined intensity. It also allows for more shaded depth to the supporting players, who were each significant individuals in their own right. Giving nuance to all those interwoven in this historical moment does not sully the message — King and his allies were marked with imperfections and personal struggles as all human beings are — rather, this strategy proves how profoundly personal the political can be and vice versa. And among these strongly depicted characters are those very real women who populated the movement. DuVernay places them on equal footing with the often more recognizable male figures surrounding King, and this serves the film’s theme extremely well.

     That theme of the personal being political is also on display within each of the many differing levels of bureaucracy in which Dr. King is enmeshed as he works towards the movement’s goals. He steers himself with grace and determination — from the highest office of political power, verbally sparring and negotiating with the president of the United States — to the pews of a Selma, Alabama church, where he speaks in hushed tones with his fellow activists as they flex and step towards something that could resemble grassroots consensus. It is through these transitions that we also see Dr. King the fallible and resilient man right alongside the shining iconic figure of history. The two identities are not separate, and we watch this human being radiating an inner power and nearly unwavering sense of personal and political agency. This voice that spoke so loudly — that grew out of so much support and tenacity from so many who surrounded him in moments of high and low alike.

     There also have been a lot of high and low controversies following this film around. The ones that stand out the most to me are that of certain voices and groups calling out historical inaccuracies within Selma’s narrative. Specifically, the supposed alteration of President Johnson’s role in the negotiations leading up to the Voting Rights Act and that of the exclusion of Rabbi Abraham Heschel from the ranks of those who march with Dr. King. In looking at historical inaccuracies in the Hollywood film universe overall, it seems especially telling that there is so much outrage over these particular figures. In my mind, it almost reads like a kind of knee-jerk protest against the racial make-up of those protagonists on most prominent display throughout the story. Those we are asked to identify with most strongly are black, proud, and complete agents of their own destiny in the midst of the movement. That so many viewers of such a film — who also happen to be mostly white — are crying foul because of the reduction of white historical characters on the screen should be suspect. I don’t mean to shame anyone’s experience, but I do think that one should question these kinds of quick reactions to what is a moving and emotionally honest portrayal of an important moment in American history. It’s not ever easy to look at cultural errors without also feeling defensive towards our own role in them. We all share guilt in some way, but that is the nature of history. To pick on this film for those reasons is somewhat naive and altogether faulty — especially in terms of the message of such a film as Selma.

     We should be able to identify with those who do not always look, sound, and act like ourselves. That doesn’t mean that it’s always easy and that we don’t have to examine our first, second, third and ongoing reactions when presented with difficult cultural and historical messages. But the more stories we seek out and share are not simply a matter of diversity — they are a mandate for reality. Selma is a mighty and artful piece of that reality.

"If you are a person ... that has a human spirit looking to be enlarged, you cannot do that staying in the same room with the same people...It's not about diversity. It's not about even inclusion or representation. It's about reality."                                                                                                                   
                                                                            - Selma Director Ava DuVernay

"What happens when a man stands up...says enough is enough?”                                                            
                                - lyrics from the song “Glory” by Common & John Legend