‘Birth’ is powerful, problematic film
Nate Parker’s debut feature, “The Birth of a Nation,” owes a great deal of its storytelling, its brute force and its blood-boiling injustice to Mel Gibson’s “Braveheart.” It’s a solid bet: If you admired the righteous brutality of Gibson’s film, then you’ll likely be gripped by much of Parker’s.
I’ve been wrestling with my problems with “The Birth of a Nation,” a powerful, flawed picture, for weeks now. It’s a tremendous piece of American history. The story belongs to the ages. The film’s reputation and reception, however, may have peaked with Sundance.
In August 1831, the enslaved preacher Nat Turner led an armed revolt in Southampton County, Va., freeing dozens of fellow slaves and killing dozens of white men, women and children in a two-day melee. Turner eluded capture for weeks after the short-lived rebellion, popularly known as “Nat’s Fray” and “Old Nat’s War.”
The publication of “The Confessions of Nat Turner,” reportedly the imprisoned Turner’s version of events as told to the physician Thomas R. Gray, set certain ideas in literary stone regarding the revolutionary. From birth, he was considered a chosen one by his people, subject to visions; Turner waited for a sign from God to lead the oppressed and chained out of bondage and into the fire.
Parker’s film aims to erase all traces of zealotry or fanaticism from Turner’s image and to humanize and Hollywood-ize the Turner myth. In Parker’s own screenplay, the man is never just a man; he is freedom incarnate.
Parker’s “Birth” argues that the real America, the one still very much in bloody progress, is a nation built on the necessary righting of grievous institutional wrongs.
Now: How does this play out in story terms? As played by writer-director Parker, Turner is a genial, relatable firebrand, a man of his time but very much out ahead of it, divinely inspired at every step. The most effective element of “The Birth of a Nation” is its middle section, where the grueling daily facts of life under slavery gradually send Turner into action. As a preacher for hire (Armie Hammer plays his cash-strapped owner, who profits from Turner’s oratorical gifts), Turner witnesses one atrocity after another. On a neighboring plantation where he’s to placate the slaves, Turner watches as a slave’s teeth are hammered out of his mouth as punishment for a hunger strike. Later, the rape of Turner’s wife, Cherry (Aja Naomi King), demands an eye for an eye, as does a second rape, that of the wife (Gabrielle Union) of Turner’s insurrectionist friend (Colman Domingo). In a key scene, Parker comforts his miserably disfigured wife after the assault. When the camera starts drifting away from her and toward him, you think: Really? This moment belongs to you, too?
With any retelling of this American history, it’s not difficult to stoke an audience’s desire for vengeful justice. Parts of “The Birth of a Nation” are bluntly effective and beautifully acted, though one of the drawbacks, ironically, is Parker’s own performance. Even the rape victims of the screenplay have a hard time getting their fair share of the screen time; everything in the story, by design, keeps the focus and the anguished close-ups strictly on Parker. He’s a good actor, but not much of a director; the visual style and approach of “The Birth of a Nation” tries a little of everything and often too much of everything. There is, however, an inspired leap forward, well realized, when the film needs it most: Without giving it away, the movie imagines an epilogue, brief and sharp, 30 years into America’s future.
“The Birth of a Nation”
2.5 out of 4 stars
Running time: 2:00