The revolt of a slave colony creates “The Birth of a Nation”. Written, directed and starring Nate Parker, This historical drama recounts a real-life slave revolt that occurred in 1831 Virginia, led by a black preacher named Nat Turner (Nate Parker). Turner is ordered by his master (Armie Hammer) to tour a number of local plantations, delivering sermons to the other slaves that will urge them against violence and any thoughts of rebellion. This becomes the biggest weapon that the white masters have against their slave opposites. However, Nat is so appalled and sickened by the horrors he sees on a daily basis during his travels that he is eventually moved to fight back against the evils of slavery. This creates a lasting war between the two sides, which very few will walk away from unscathed. “The Birth of a Nation” which won the Grand Jury Prize at the 2016 Sundance Film Festival, is rated R for disturbing violent content, adult language, and some brief nudity.

First time director Nate Parker certainly films a more than capable telling of one of history’s forgotten heroes during the darkest time in our nation’s history. “The Birth of a Nation” hit me hard with a combination of brutal imagery, as well as frightening reality for what many faced during this painful era. Films like “12 Years a Slave” and “Amistad” have always been two of my favorite films for the genre, but what Parker does is take a movie’s riveting realism and lay it against a beautiful backdrop of gorgeous cinematography and symbolism that really enriches the picture. This gives the movie an unexpected irony against the onslaught of disgust that you know is coming. The film’s outstanding usage of deeper meaning really comes into focus on more than one occasion, and I will really be interested to see what people make of each artistic view when played against their own ever-changing emotions for the pain being inflicted. Gorgeous backdrops of the fields of cotton really symbolize the distinction of hurtful greed that is being played out in this story, and it does so by radiating the camera angles with a blending of jasmine flowers growing next to the white riches of the South’s greatest crop. Artistically, there are very few slavery movies like this one, but the real triumph comes in the form of heaven versus hell.

Parker’s idea seems to be that horrible things can happen in beautiful places, and his direction for that of Turner is one devastating road filled by one traumatizing memory after the next. Nate doesn’t seem to focus for too long or rely on leering camera work to tell his story. Instead, most of what comes from his direction creatively is what the audience is viewing in their minds long after the camera gives away a quick glimpse. What was interesting to me about the screenplay is how religion is used as sort of a false propaganda of sorts for the black communities that have given up their last shred of hope miles ago. Parker’s Nat preaches into communities where he sees violence and scars that have been inflicted on the men, women and children of each place, but the real horror comes with preaching to someone who simply isn’t there mentally anymore. Each face casts a haunting spirit of a person who lost so much from the moments they were born, so Nat considers the disgusting sarcasm in casting his gospel among people who find it most difficult to believe in God. The religion ideas come from the white masters, and it certainly brings about a different side to hope existing in these kind of movies that I never even considered with the kind of proud people that make up these movies.

The score is tantalizing. Composed by musical technician Henry Jackman, this musical storybook reflects the kind of moods internally that our characters bottle up over the course of 105 minutes. Some of my favorite deliveries by Jackman in approach to the script come during the inspiring final twenty minutes of the film, which serve as a triumph for the audience which has silently (and sometimes loudly) been hoping for something for our characters to regain that will to live for another day. In addition to Henry’s beautiful tempo, Nina Simone embraces our ears, delivering a note of melancholy somber during the third act, on her memorable classic “Strange Fruit”. The song reflects eerily the kind of possessive nature that the women of these slave families are forced into, and it’s in this musical number where we know that life will never be the same for anyone involved.

The performances are rich in delivery. Mostly from Parker, who constructs an absorbing tug of war that is pulling him in two different directions. For his Turner, Parker feels deeply passionate about the material that he focuses on, embracing an unflinching inspiration against the backdrop of suffering carnage. Parker tiptoes that fine line of trying to embrace the best of both worlds. When he realizes the consequences of always being unequal to his owner, that’s when the real noteworthy praise begins, casting Parker as a real triumph in a film that continues to inflict its message of abusive power against us. The long-winded dialogue that brings out the preacher in him takes the film and his co-stars to new heights, and for that moment you can embrace and comprehend what makes his message one of irresistible inspiration. I also greatly enjoyed the work of Jackie Earle Haley, as well as Armie Hammer who is nearly unrecognizable as Turner’s long time friend turned slave owner Samuel Turner. Hammer has always been someone who I think is greatly underrated as an actor, and this is really a showcase for such a concept. Just like we see the wheels in Nat’s head turning to rebel, we see the same levers turning for Samuel to rebel further and further from anything with even the slightest human emotion. Haley can play detestable in his sleep, but here is something more in antagonizing psychology that really makes his role slither under our skin. There’s nothing over the top about it considering this was par for the course during the days of slavery.

A couple of things that could’ve used tightening up on for Parker’s direction comes in his lack of narrative at times, as well as a finale that felt very rushed when compared to the rest of the sound pacing for the film. On the former, a lot of the scenes in the middle of the movie feel slightly disjointed and more on the rhythm that a lot is being thrown at the wall to see what sticks. There’s very little juggling with subplots that Parker gives us, and that makes the movie feel one-dimensional on more than one occasion. As for the rushed finale, it just felt very out of sync with the pacing of our storytelling up to this point. Even when aspects of the story were slowly developed, I felt like the audience was gaining enough time to soak everything in. With the final twenty minutes, so much entails this area of the script, and I felt it could’ve used another ten minutes for me to understand more of the psychological spin of some of our lead protagonists during their most spine-tingling moments.

Overall, “The Birth of a Nation” is not without flaws, but Parker deserves immense credit for crafting a story that can be beautiful and revolting at the same time in presentation. The blunt force of a powerfully compelling script about the many warnings of religion makes Parker’s debut an edgy triumph that opens the door for a promising career.

8/10