MOVIE REVIEW
SELMA
I Have A Cinematic Dream…
by Doug Young
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Starring David Oyelowo, Carmen Ejogo, Tom Wilkinson, Oprah Winfrey, Andre Holland, Tim Roth; directed by Ava DuVernay
This week’s review is written using portions of the text of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech (delivered Aug.0 28, 1963, at the Lincoln Memorial, Washington D.C.); with apologies to him and
all who have been inspired by his powerfulwords.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of this cinematic moment. This sweltering situation of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of authenticity and directorial
equality. Two thousand and fourteen is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that Negro depiction in film is adequate and will now be content to return to stereotypical views will have a rude awakening if Hollywood
returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in Hollywood until the Negro is granted full cinematic respect and rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our movie industry and experiences until the bright light of quality shines on the screen.
But there is something that I must say to potential moviegoers, who stand in line to the darkened threshold which leads into the palace of cinema: In the process of gaining entrance to our cherished places, we must not be guilty of unattainable expectations. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for quality films by seeing them reduced to television stylistics of direction and tenor. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of big screen discipline. We must not allow our creative needs to denigrate into the trappings of other media. Again and again,
we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting realistic force with cinematic force.
This marvelous new film which has engulfed the cinematic community must not lead us to a distrust of all historical films, for many of our cinematic brothers, as evidenced by their presence in theaters today, have come to realize that being tied to precise historical accuracy is to be tied up with documentary destinies. And they have
come to realize that their freedom to dramatize is inextricably bound to our freedom from dry renditions.
We cannot watch alone.
And as we watch, we must make the pledge that we shall always look to the screen.
We cannot turn away.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come to this movie out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrower films. And some of you have come from genres where your quest — quest for escapism left you battered by the storms of special effects and staggered by the whims of heroic brutality. You have been the
veterans of creative suffering. Continue to watch with the faith that such suffering is not unalterable. Go back to the theater in Mississippi, go back to the theater in Alabama, go back to the theater in South Carolina, go back to the theater in Georgia, go back to the theater in Louisiana, go back to the theaters and multiplexes of our northern
and western cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
Let us not wallow in the aisles of despair, I say to you today, my moviegoing friends. And so even though
we face the difficulties of today outside the theater, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the
cinematic dream. I have a dream that one day moviegoers will rise up and demand the true meaning of film’s
creed: “We hold these films to be self-reflective, that all films are created with quality.”
I have a dream that one day the acting in Selma, by those who may themselves be the sons and daughters of
former slaves and the sons and daughters of former slave owners will be appreciated for its quality at the ceremonies of cinematic brotherhood.
Ruben Santiago-Hudson at an event for the movie Selma. I have a dream that one day the events shown in Selma, a depiction sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be no longer have to be
rendered on white screens and transformed into dramatic lessons of freedom and justice. I have a dream that Selma and it’s kin will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the seriousness of their topics
but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, serious human dramas shall be exalted, and every comic book superhero shall be made low, the crass pictures will be made plain, and the silly narratives will be seen for their limitations;
“and the glory of the cinema shall be revealed and all moviegoers shall see it together.”
This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to watching other films with. With this faith, we will be able to exit out of the theater without despair and with an experience of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our film options into a beautiful symphony of acclaim. With this faith, we will be able to
watch together, to praise together, to sit together, to go to theaters together, to embrace quality entertainment together, knowing that we will be witnessing a true rendition of historic events one day.
And when this happens, and when we allow the words and depictions of the brutality and meaning of the Selma march to win the right and freedom to vote to ring, when we let it ring from every theater and
every media outlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of such films, historic and fictional, poignant and thunderous, realistic and outlandish, will be able to share space in
our consciousness and shout out the words of the old critical refrain:
Good at last! Good at last!
Thank God Almighty, we have something that’s good at last!
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