It’s a hell of a dilemma to be faced with—knowing that these moments must happen before change can come, but also obviously not wanting to see anyone get hurt--and that struggle inside of King makes for some of Selma’s more powerful moments looking at the real man behind the icon.
But can Selma live up to the hype of its nearly universal acclaim?
That plus Oprah, Common and Tom Wilkinson's nose after the jump...
The drama of King’s relationship with his wife and the toll of leadership and life in the spotlight—while welcome bits of realism and a reminder that King was human—feel only partly explored in Selma. When we do peek behind the curtain is when Oyelowo really shines as he transforms into King. You can see the weight of the world on his shoulders in his eyes and how hard the fight is on him.
Rather than focus on King’s entire life, Selma gives us a roughly six-month chapter starting with King receiving the Nobel Peace Prize and covering his work for voter rights. Then again, King, in many ways, is a supporting character in Selma. The people of Selma and those across the country brave enough to stand up again and again and put themselves in mortal danger for a righteous cause are the real focus of the story. Though Selma left me feeling even more in awe at King’s courage and willingness to meet biting brutality with an unwavering dedication to nonviolence, I felt even more amazed at the people who were willing to join him. While celebrity makes a man a target, fame is also something of a shield.
Famous face fatigue and the question of accuracy
Rarely would one consider having a big roster of talent as a knock against a film, but it sometimes pulled me out of the story in Selma. Oprah, Common, Martin Sheen, Cuba Gooding Jr.: they all give performances that are more than passable. But seeing so many recognizable faces brought me back to the current day sitting in my cramped, upholstered folding theater seat when I wanted to stay in 1965 Selma—in this unimaginable world that somehow existed merely a couple of decades before my birth.
While the real bad guy here is Alabama governor George Wallace (played expertly hateable by Tim Roth), President Lyndon B. Johnson is also somewhat vilified in Selma—a move that has gotten plenty of coverage if you care about such things. His portrayal (at the hands and nose of Tom Wilkinson) makes him seem like a politician concerned more about his legacy than the plight of the innocent men and women in Alabama. But he also at times comes off as a bigot who views King as a disrespectful thorn in his side and sicks shady FBI director J. Edgar Hoover on the civil rights leader to keep him in check.
This all may or may not be true, or at least true in spirit; as I didn’t pay much attention in history class I’m not the one to say. But it’s probably worth noting there’s debate around it before you walk into the theater. While it’s fair to say this is a film and not a documentary or textbook, it will no doubt serve as something of a history lesson for many. I certainly learned details about the march(es) that I was completely unaware of before the lights went down, and I’d like to believe I’m not especially more ignorant of history than the average American.
Should you see Selma?
Yes. Selma is the kind of movie that has critics dropping the word “important” quite a bit. While I don't disagree that the subject, and the conversations around this dark part of our recent past are extremely important, Selma failed me somewhat as a movie by not really moving the emotional needle as much as I had hoped. Yes, there are some memorable, powerful moments—most disturbing of which are the many brutal attacks by officers and onlookers on peaceful protesters young and old—but it felt that, in this slice of King’s life, in a time so rich with triumph and tragedy, that the story could have been told in a way that resulted in a film both important and more deeply moving.
—Eric Pulsifer