Sunday, November 22, 2020
Thursday, November 19, 2020
This evening I re-watched a part of the highly fictional movie, "Emperor" (2020) including a particular dialogue that the screenplay writers presented for the Chambersburg quarry meeting between Frederick Douglass, John Brown, and Shields Green. While the portrayal of Douglass by the wonderful actor Harry Lennix is far better than was the petulant prima dona version of Douglass portrayed by Daveed Diggs in SHOWTIME's "The Good Lord Bird," there is a similar ideological inclination in both stories. My sense is that this inclination reflects a certain contemporary black critique that really has no precedent in black history. Indeed, it is not in any sense the black viewpoint, since African Americans are not a monolith any more than any community. However, a certain view has become more commonly expressed and it has repeatedly found John Brown as a target.
Dick Gregory and generations of Black people have been inundated with hymns and propaganda praising Brown or any white person who’s alleged to have lent a hand to end racism. Frequently, these helpful whites garner greater attention than the Harriet Tubmans, Nat Turners and thousands of Black counter-terrorists who invested their complete existence in Black liberation.
|Jane Elliott, A Heroic|
|The late great Amiri Baraka|
|Shields Green (Dayo Okeniyi) and Frederick |
Douglass (Harry Lennix) from the "Emperor"
|Shields Green (Quentin Plair), Frederick Douglass (Daveed |
Diggs), and John Brown (Ethan Hawke) in SHOWTIME's
"The Good Lord Bird"
Monday, November 16, 2020
Last evening, SHOWTIME aired the final episode of "The Good Lord Bird," which saw Ethan Hawke's John Brown defeated at Harper's Ferry, jailed, and raising a ruckus with his jailhouse letters. In the closing scene, Hawke's ragamuffin Brown slowly ascends the gallows steps and his head is covered, but we do not see the hanging. The final moments of the episode are devoted to "Onion" who gets to ride off after visiting John Brown in his jail cell on the night before his execution.
The other day I got an email from Marty Brown, one of John Brown's direct descendants, in which she informed me that she had gotten around to watching "The Good Lord Bird." To no surprise, she was understandably annoyed by the inaccuracies, particularly by how Brown's children were portrayed, such as placing John Brown Jr. and Jason Brown at Harper's Ferry, when neither of these sons went to Virginia with their father (the sons who went with him were Owen and his two younger half-brothers, Oliver and Watson, the latter two having been killed at Harper's Ferry). "I'll never understand why writers insist on treating the Brown family like interchangeable cardboard cutouts," she wrote, "when there is so much true character to be mined and put to use." Marty added:
I understand that it's sometimes necessary in drama to conflate characters for plot purposes, but when it serves no conceivable purpose at all and runs exactly counter to the truth, it's just sloppy and stupid. And insulting. So there's my three word review: Sloppy, stupid, and insulting. You can quote me.
"The Good Lord Bird," first the novel and then the television series, is a story that appropriates history, only to chew it up and spit it out, and then expects us to have a tear in our eye at the end that will justify its abuse of history. But fiction and (possible) television awards aside, those of us who care about the story of John Brown feel about this series like the guy who lets a friend use his apartment to throw a party. Now that the party's over and the guests are gone, we're relieved. But we're also annoyed because we have to clean up the mess.
Last evening, when I was getting ready to watch the final episode, my wife Michele came into the room and passingly asked me if I was going to watch, "The Dead Bird Walking." I almost split a gut because she wasn't even being sarcastic. It just came out that way. But somehow, being my better half, she intuitively captured my feelings about "The Good Lord Bird."
As John Brown once said at the news of someone's death: "So we go."