Much of what I review touches upon just a tiny portion of the surfeit of cinema I consume. In my attempts to cover newer independent releases, I find myself regretting not including some really marvellous filmmaking forgotten to the ages. So here is a new, hopefully regular feature, Blast From The Past that will look at more classic film that I champion.  I implore you to check them out and give the recognition and love they deserve.

Nothing But A Man

The first film of the future is kind of a biggun in the sense that it was reportedly Malcolm X’s most favorite thing, film-wise. When an icon such as Malcolm X loves something so much and I found this film had been restored I knew it was necessary I catch this. While I’m extremely lucky that I did, the experience was bittersweet. I discovered one of my favorite films, so enamoured by it was I, I reserved an obscure copy to buy for myself, where I waited dizzily for pay day so it could truly be mine. However, I’m equally dedicated to getting others into film and such a steadfast provider of customer service (feel free to roll your eyes)  when I came upon a customer absolutely desperate for a copy, I sold her my treasured reserved copy, assured by my manager he would contact the distributor and get some more in. On a rainy day that followed, my manager coyly informed me that the distributor (who is a lovely lovely man) no longer had the rights to the film and the copy I had sold, my own copy, was the very last one. That was a day of darkness. Many films get the title ‘forgotten gem’ and you might hear it in this feature more than once but for me this revelatory piece of filmmaking is truly deserving of this title.

Made in 1964, Nothing But A Man was a landmark film made by the Berlin born Michael Roemer, who’s Jewish ancestry, and own experience of facing oppression and racial violence  greatly influenced the nuanced empathy that saturates a film depicting black lives of 1960’s America, particularly the South. What makes the film so powerful is it’s ordinariness. The naturalistic style creates an intimacy. Complimented by the terrific performances of relative unknowns (whom some went to have accomplished careers in TV and film), the film smacks on a honesty that demanded self reflection from American audiences. So it’s not surprising that this thoughtful and beautiful film fell into obscurity? People couldn’t and still can’t face the truth when it’s presented to them in such a subtle well judged manner.

Despite celebrating it’s 50th anniversary, the film is still striking in it’s freshness. What is depicted, the trails and tribulations of lives lived in a blanket of oppression, rejection, resentment, longing and hope, speaks more succinctly and more truthfully of the black struggle than any of the past and current Hollywood fare that deals with race relations or the black experience. That adherence to truthfulness is where the film’s power lies. The film succeeds because as a rarity of it’s time and even to some degree even now, the black presence in the film doesn’t serve as a political statement, the crux of the story is about people. It’s an exploration primarily about manhood but as it is within the context of the black populace in the Southern USA, racism and society feature heavily but not at the expense of the central theme. The political power the film has is a by product of the central story.

The film centres around Duffy (Ivan Dixon). He is a ne’er do well character. It’s not really discerned whether that’s because he’s a product of a prejudiced society or because he just makes crappy life decisions (there are plenty of examples of both having an impact) It’s not really important. The film doesn’t really try to point the finger assured that the audience will naturally get the point. What is important – the backbone of the story – is Duffy’s journey into learning what it is to be a man.

His journey is not all struggle and pain as would be expected. There is real sweetness and heart to the film and that is never present more than in the developing relationship between Duffy and Josie (Abbey Lincoln) a respectable teacher and daughter of the town’s pastor. The story of their burgeoning romance is not really anything new, it’s essentially a forbidden love tale frowned upon by clucking parents. The progression is still sweet and gently articulated.

The cinematography is gorgeous in all it’s grittiness. We are entering a world where people are making the most of what  they have, which is not very much. I think that because I am of a generation that grew up on colour in film, black and white tends to add a sense of heightened dramatic feel. The shadows and stark contrast in shade can naturally emerge in such films that  that colour film has to work harder to create. That’s just my opinion anyway. In this case, the black and white adds to the starkness of the characters surrounding, perfectly complimenting their ordinary existence, whether bleak or promising.

Here movement and expression is as important as the script. In some ways it’s more important because it’s the expressions of the actors that stays. As mentioned in the excellent Slate review of this film, smiling is a big feature in this film and like the reviewer, the smiling stayed with me. This is because the smiles in the film rarely represented merriment or humour. Too often the smiles act as a mask to an array of emotion, usually the opposite of what a smile usually means. Through this benevolent expression, desire, contempt, hatred, hurt and at times joy bubbles under the surface. This was striking to me because it drew me back to an unpleasant incident in my life that still haunts me where I witnessed my mother being verbally abused and physically intimidated by a man twice her size and through it all she smiled. Her calm demeanour never once betrayed her own anger and fear at the situation. It was startling to observe such a reaction but I soon understood why. Not only did it unsettle and quietly humiliate the offensive bully (I saw him physically deflate as people stepped in to admonish him) but I saw the quiet dignity behind it. That is what is articulated throughout the film. That’s not to say that there are moments where the anger manifests itself into outbursts in the film, but I fully understood the sentiments behind the smiling through the pain idea.

This multifaceted expression of emotion is down to the exceptional directing but also the performances. All are either sound or outstanding with particular attention going to Julius Harris as Duffy’s alcoholic dying father Will Anderson. His poignantly realised physical and mental deterioration is the physical manifestation of Duffy’s fears. He doesn’t want to become like his father, but his actions seem to doom him to repeat the mistakes his father has made. Their fractured relationship full of grudging disappointment but familial love articulate the hopelessness of their situation but Duffy soon comes to realise that the parallels can end there as the film ends on a more hopeful note.

Through the imitate focus on the lives of a select group of people, the film indadvertedly (or maybe deliberately?) makes some bold political statements. The subdued articulation of the experiences of Duffy and co, exposes not only the ugliness of a racially divided country and the struggle it’s people endure in order to overcome. Through the film’s protagonist, we are drawn back full circle to the main theme and to the film’s title “Nothing But  A Man” as Duffy realises that he is in fact a man. Regardless of what others seem him as, however he sees himself, he is still a man. A man whose choices, mistakes, triumphs are his own and he is slowly learning that it’s ok to be just that.

But while I grieve as it will be some time at least before I get to watch this wonderful again, I’m glad I got to experience it on the big screen. It’s popularity led to a successfully extended theatrical run at many cinemas in London, so I have hope it shall be shown again. And when that day comes, I expect you to march to the cinemas in your droves, dozens of readers, in your droves! Here’s hoping that if it’s shouted about enough maybe a DVD release could be in the horizon and I shall grieve no more!