[yasr_overall_rating]
Nat Turner, a literate slave and preacher in the antebellum South, orchestrates an uprising.
Nate Parker’s “The Birth of a Nation,” a film that takes its name from the D.W. Griffith epic (a choice that speaks volumes in and of itself), fills a void in American cinema, and much like the slave narrative films before it, “The Birth of a Nation” keeps the ongoing conversation of racial injustice at the forefront of the American consciousness. The currents of Parker’s story, his message, run strong and deep and perhaps would run stronger and deeper still if “The Birth of a Nation” was not bound by elements of convention. But convention can be forgiven as Parker’s film will likely strike a nerve, for better or worse, and striking nerves, creating a level of discomfort, usually means something is working.
There are clues that director, writer, and actor Nate Parker may have been a bit overzealous but there is no denying his portrayal as Nat Turner. Parker’s performance as the slave preacher who led the largest and bloodiest slave rebellion in 1831, is both stoic and prophetic. Parker is careful not to breach the lines of maudlin territory but also doesn’t shy away from the grandeur of martyrdom. It is obvious that this film is Parker’s child, his passion project. And some may claim conceit, as Parker’s portrayal is by far the most developed and impassioned character, leaving other characters (all played by strong actors: Colman Domingo, Gabrielle Union, Aja Naomi King) by the wayside when their talents could have been used to further strengthen the film, making it solid. But then again, “The Birth of a Nation” is about Nat Turner. It is his origin story as a man marked by the fates, graced with purpose met by epic and violent ends. While the performances of the other actors are duly noted, Nate Parker is front and center, and so be it.
“The Birth of a Nation,” is between the realms of the other-worldly and the very real, and from the beginning it sets a haunting near apocalyptic tone, which fuels the power of later events. It is made clear from the outset that Nat Turner is special. As a child he is told so, the markings on his chest are a sign, markers of “prophet.” His family holds him close, keeps him near, shielding him as best they can, knowing that one day he will be called for his purpose, whatever it may be. His slave owners take note of his gifts as well albeit in an entirely different way. Where he is prophet amongst slaves, he is novelty amongst whites. He is taught to read, given the Bible as his vehicle.
Nat, for a time, is given an exalted position within the household of the Turners, as it is a view of Elizabeth Turner (Penelope Ann Miller) that his gift for reading should not go to waste, and therefore Nat is taught the Bible, and is given opportunity to preach. His life in the house doesn’t last long though after Benjamin Turner (Danny Vinson) dies and it is decided that Nat would be of better use in the field. Despite the turn of events, Nat is still nurtured to an extent and is allowed to preach.
Times are very tough for the plantation since the passing of Benjamin. Benjamin’s son, Samuel Turner (Armie Hammer) is in dire straits financially. But it is soon brought to his attention that Nat’s novel talent for preaching could prove profitable. A newly carved niche presents itself, as other plantation owners catch word of a slave preacher. They desire Nat to preach to their slaves the goodness of their plight, and purpose to their slave masters, in an effort to boost morale. The ever-desperate Samuel, with some hesitancy, concedes and he and Nat travel from plantation to plantation. It is here, on these trips, that Nat awakens to the brutality against and the annihilation of black lives. A fire is lit, an eternal flame burning, and once the brutality hits Nat personally, there is no turning back, rebellion is fast approaching and is just as unflinchingly brutal.
There’s often a tendency to tame history in film, especially “living histories;” histories that are still opened wounds, tended to by flimsy band-aids. Nate Parker tosses the band-aid and digs into the wound, picking out and hurtling shrapnel. His message is clear and the lines of communication are open. “The Birth of a Nation” is not without its faults but the story is compelling, reaching for epic. But it is the imagery, augural, violent, and hauntingly somber that snatches you; catching you at the throat.
In theaters Friday, October 7th
