Selma

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

Selma (2014), directed by Ava DuVernay (amazing that she didn’t receive an Oscar nomination) finds its dramatic center by zeroing in on one event in the civil rights movement of the 1960’s. The march from Selma, Alabama, to the state capital in Montgomery highlighted possibly the most important goal that Martin Luther King, Jr. and other civil rights leaders wanted to achieve: the elimination of impediments established to prevent African Americans from voting. In the course of this story King is seen as a master strategist who was dedicated to his cause, but who was also filled with guilt about the collateral damage that resulted along the road to justice.

The film opens with King (David Oyelowo, another absurd omission from Oscar consideration) looking at himself in a mirror, preparing the acceptance speech for the 1963 Nobel Peace Prize. But, he tells his wife, Coretta (Carmen Ejogo), that it’s not right. He’s looks too dressed up, too fancy, and that doesn’t sit well with how it will play with the disadvantaged back home. He truly feels that the ceremony makes him feel strange since he is used to being in places where poor people just try to get by each day. But he also understands the media, so he knows that the optics of himself in opulent surroundings will not play well. But, given how the stress level of their lives is always in the red zone they both agree it’s nice to get away a bit. King says he longs for being a pastor in a small college community. But, he does allow for giving a speech occasionally, so even in his daydream he sees himself trying to influence others. Then they both look sad as they realize this version of King’s dream can’t materialize if he wants his other dream about racial equality to become a reality.

The voice-over of King’s uplifting acceptance speech is undercut by the segue to the next shot of the explosion at a Baptist church in Birmingham, Alabama, which killed four young girls. This horrendous act shows how the racial war is still being waged. The next scene is of Annie Lee Cooper (Oprah Winfrey, who is one of the film’s producers) filling out a voter registration form. There were state laws in force in the South that suppressed African American voting by placing restrictions on the process, such as administering tests that could not be passed. The man at the county registrar desk is condescending, saying he doesn’t have all day, and that Cooper is causing a fuss. He implies a threat to her job, saying that her boss wouldn't’ want to hear that she was making trouble. She says she did the paperwork correctly, but he shows his power by saying, “It’s right when I say it’s right.” She is told to recite the preamble the U. S. Constitution (the man is again belittling toward Cooper, asking if she knows what “preamble” means). She does so correctly, which the man testing her probably couldn’t do. She knows that there are sixty-seven county judges in Alabama, but he says she must name them. So, she is again denied her legal right to vote.

President Lyndon Johnson (Tom Wilkinson), a stubborn and proud man, does not like being pressured by King, saying to his aid that King has to get on board with his program, not the other way around. He ascribes arrogance to King about not settling for anything else but his “dream.” This attitude reflects a form of white privilege. (The film’s depiction of Johnson has been criticized by some as not accurately reflecting Johnson's commitment to the civil rights movement). In a meeting with King, Johnson says he was proud of the Civil Rights Act that was meant to end segregation. He apparently wanted King to work as an official member of his White House team, but that would mean King would have to pledge loyalty to one man, and he needs that uncompromising distance to advocate for change. Johnson is glad that King, and not the militant Malcolm X, is the main leader of the civil rights movement. His approach mirrors the white resistance to, and fear of, abrupt change in the relationship between the races, even if the current conditions are intolerable for a vast segment of the population. King raises the impediments to registering to vote for blacks. Johnson says that his priorities are to allow desegregation to work its way through the South, and then he wants to start his “War on Poverty” program. He says enforcing changes to local voter registration must wait. King says it can’t wait because murderers go unpunished, protected by white government officials put in office by white voters. Killers are acquitted by all-white juries because blacks are not registered to vote and can’t get on juries. King’s argument is flawless. But, political practicality can be an enemy of what is obviously rational. Johnson says he has to set the voting rights issue aside for a little while. After leaving the meeting, King tells his staff members that they must go to Selma to protest and thus put pressure on Johnson by swaying public opinion.

On the drive to Selma with black leaders Ralph Abernathy (Colman Domingo), Andrew Young (Andre Holland), James Orange (Omar J. Dorsey), and Diane Nash (Tessa Thompson), King says he doesn’t want to rush into anything, showing how he wants to have a solid plan in place before acting. Instead, he wants to get a feel for the situation, showing his wariness of potentially inflaming an already heated confrontation between the white and black residents. One of his companions says with ominous humor that Selma is a nice place to die.

We immediately see the racial divide when they pull up to a hotel that declares, in defiance of the current law, that it’s for whites only. They go into the hotel, and a white man punches King in the face, an act which undermines the reputation of Southern Hospitality. (The film displays typed notes introducing various scenes that provide context for what is happening. But, these bits of information ironically are from FBI surveillance logs, creating a chilling effect as to how a hostile government can monitor the everyday actions of citizens that it deems as subversive).

Johnson asks FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover (Dylan Baker) what his investigative agency knows about King. Hoover declares that “King is a political and moral degenerate.” Johnson, a strong figure, must still be careful not to irritate Hoover, whose powerful position can bring a politician down just by insinuating that there is anything negative about a person. So, he accommodates the Director by saying that if Hoover thinks King is a “degenerate” he’ll accept his finding. But, Johnson notes that King is non-violent, and reiterates his preference for King as opposed to the more incendiary civil rights leaders. Hoover is menacing when he tells the President, “we can shut men with power down, permanently and unequivocally,” which sounds as if he is offering to have King assassinated. Johnson, of course, backs away from such an implication, saying he just wants to know what the FBI knows about King’s future plans that may cause problems. Hoover reveals that he knows that there is friction in King’s home and says that they can use it to destroy his family life, thus weakening King through distraction. This scene adds to the film’s theme that suggests the only place to go when the heads of law enforcement are corrupted by their own bigotry is outside of the system to seek justice. Like Gandhi, King knows that one has to humiliate the oppressors by revealing their crimes to everyone to get backing for change.

Hoover’s police-state-like targeting of King’s family is effectively followed by a scene showing King back home in Atlanta with his wife and children. Coretta receives a call threatening her children, but she handles it without hysteria. King asks if the call was like the others, showing that they must be courageous daily in the face of hatred. King is leaving the next day for Selma, and despite Coretta admitting there are a lot of good people living there, King says he’s worried by those that aren’t so good, since those are the ones that can do harm. He says that the local sheriff, Jim Clark (Stan Houston), won’t concede anything without a fight. Since they are nonviolent, he repeats the phrase about it being a good place to die. Coretta does not like the joke since she has not developed the thick skin needed to hear gallows humor. King wakes up gospel singer Mahalia Jackson (Ledisi Young), who sings a hymn over the phone. King feels he needs “to hear the Lord’s voice,” most likely to give him strength and hope for the fight ahead, as he goes “through the storm/ Through the night.”

At a local church in Selma, King’s speech points out what amounts to the devil’s arithmetic (the title of a young adult book about the Holocaust) which shows that African Americans number fifty per cent of the population there, but only make up less than two per cent of the registered voters. King’s evangelical way of getting his points across and galvanizing others to action is seen here in Oyelowo’s interpretation of the great man (the actor spent seven years trying to get the film made with him in the lead role). He gets the crowd to repeat “No More!” as he states that there have been too many people who did not have control over their own destinies because they were denied the right to vote. He asks them to protest, to march, and to disturb the peace, which means that they must accept going to jail and suffering as the consequences for their willing to take a stand. He wants to expose the bigots so they can be seen as the hateful people they are instead of allowing them to hide their awful actions with the help of local government officials.

John and James of SNCC (the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee) are also there, and these students have some jurisdictional concerns because it’s their territory. They don’t want to be pushed aside by outsiders coming in to take over their cause and then leaving, with the locals having to continue the long-term fight to, as King says, “raise the consciousness” of the local black people. Those with King say that SNCC hasn’t accomplished enough concerning voting rights. King interrupts the disagreement saying there is no time for this internal bickering. He says their national movement does three things: negotiate, demonstrate, and resist. That is their game plan, and if it causes their opponents to make mistakes, it helps the cause. When they were in Albany, the sheriff treated them humanely, and so there was no “drama,” and as the James adds, “No cameras.” King agrees, implying that publicity derived from sensationalism is required to address wrongs. King says they have to raise white consciousness, too, in particular the President’s, and they must be on the front page of the newspapers and on the TV so Johnson will be forced to not ignore their fight. King says that the short-tempered Sheriff Clark will provide the necessary drama. He doesn’t control the streets, only the county courthouse, so King says, “we have clear avenues of approach to a defined battle zone.” This scene illustrates the planning, diplomacy, and strategy that King mastered to get the job done.

In a voice-over, King continues his analysis of the battlefield. He notes that when segregation is everywhere it is a harder task to concentrate the drama. But, in Selma, the focus is on the courthouse, a place of laws, which, ironically, has illegally denied voting rights, and which they can pinpoint as “a citadel, defended by fanatics.” So, King, his leaders, and the locals march the streets (where he noted the sheriff could not stop them) and go to the courthouse, whose tyranny is “defended,” as King observed, by police with their clubs. King poetically calls the courthouse “a perfect stage” for the “drama” he wants to play out. Sheriff Clark uses the excuse that there are too many of them there for the general public to gain access to the building and that they have to go in the back door, which is a form of segregation, which King tells him is illegal. Clark uses his bullying size to push people out of the way under the pretense that they must keep the sidewalk clear. He knocks over an old man. When he starts to jab his club into a young black man’s chest, Oprah’s Cooper whacks the Sheriff on the head. King winces as he sees the confrontation leading to the violence he abhors but must tolerate as Cooper is hit and wrestled to the ground.

The scene flows into the voice-over words of then Governor of Alabama George Wallace (Tim Roth), a major proponent of segregation, stating in a public address that he won’t tolerate “A bunch of nigra agitators.” Wallace, like other Southerners at the time, used the word “nigra” as a way of not using the “N” word, but communicating that was exactly the racial slur they meant. King is in jail having been arrested for disturbing the peace. Wallace is then seen talking about how liberals and progressives have undermined the intent of the Founding Fathers to make us one “mongrel” (a demonization of the process of diversification) nation instead of keeping the races separate. Unfortunately, the architects of American democracy did not grant the equal rights to blacks or women. But, they did allow for amendments to the Constitution, the type of change that Wallace decries in his speech.

Johnson listens to Wallace speak, and he sees a picture of Cooper being manhandled by the Alabama cops on the front page of the newspaper put on his breakfast table, probably giving him indigestion. Of course, Johnson’s inability to escape the disturbing behavior of his fellow Southerners is exactly what King intended.

In the Selma jail, King feels the heartbreaking frustration of their cause as he speaks to Abernathy. His words are like a confession for his part in adding to how much torment his people have endured. Abernathy offers encouragement and says President Johnson will be moved to act. But King wonders what they have accomplished if a black person can be served food anywhere, but can’t afford to pay for it, or is unable to read the menu. The civil rights activist Medgar Evers stood up against injustice and was shot in his own driveway. King has empathy for the sense of futility experienced by those that follow a leader who is then struck down (a sort of foreshadowing of what will happen once he meets his fatal end). Abernathy says that they just have to work “piece by piece,” laying down the road for others to follow. He quotes scripture which again seems to be the well from which these civil rights leaders sustained themselves, despite, as Malcolm X noted in his speeches, those same biblical teachings were used to placate blacks by urging them to tolerate their earthly plight for delayed happiness in heaven. Although being in jail, King is still able to use humor to lighten the dire situation, saying that the cell was “probably bugged.”

Amelia Boynton (Lorraine Toussaint), a civil rights activist, encourages Coretta, who feels unsure of herself as she heads toward a secret meeting with Malcolm X (Nigel Thatch). Boynton says they are descended from a mighty civilization that persevered despite crushing obstacles, so she is basically telling Coretta she will find her strength in her bond with her cultural past. The meeting with Malcolm X takes place in a church, the stained-glass windows again suggesting how religion was a key force behind the civil rights movement. Malcolm, who at this point has alienated himself from the Black Muslim establishment, now allows for other possibilities to achieve the goals of black people, including letting white people join the movement. He assures Coretta that he respects what her husband is trying to do. She is her husband’s defender and points out that Malcolm has said disrespectful things about her husband, and Malcolm agrees that he has been outspoken against the non-violent path. He stresses that although they have disagreements, he is not the “enemy.” She does not want his militance to destroy what her husband is trying to achieve in Selma. He counters by offering a strategy of his own, asking that he be the alternative to King that will scare whites to the point that many will rush to King’s side. In this war, allies must come from different camps and many tactics are advanced to defeat the real “enemy.”

King, still in jail, is upset with Coretta’s advocating for Malcolm, since at one point he called King and fellow leaders, “ignorant Negro preachers,” and said King was an Uncle Tom who the white man paid to keep “Negroes defenseless.” Coretta says Malcolm was different now, and his disagreements were not aimed in the form of personal attacks against King. King says that their movement made conditions better by actually passing laws, which he says Malcolm has not done. He blurts out that Coretta seems “enamored” of Malcolm, then immediately apologizes, saying he didn’t mean it. The disparity in the ways to improve African Americans is examined here, and it shows how those impassioned alternative ways of seeking progress sometimes led to jealousy and animosity.

Wallace is not happy about both King and Malcolm X stirring up the black people in his state at the same time. He is worried that Johnson might be provoked to push for voting reform, which Wallace doesn’t want since elections are coming up, and he wants to maintain a predominantly white electorate. A sharp increase in black voters could throw segregationist leaders such as himself out of office. He tells Colonel Al Lingo (Stephen Root) that he wants “white trash” Sheriff Clark restrained so that physically abused blacks don’t appear on the news, generating sympathy for their cause. Wallace, despite his racist leanings, somehow sees himself as better than violent bigots. But he also is being politically practical, not condemning the violence, just not wanting it displayed in public. But, Lingo, to stress the local Sheriff’s uncontrollable hatred of African Americans, tells Wallace that even if Elvis Presley and Jesus came back and told Clark to be nice to the blacks he would beat them both and put them in jail. Then, astonishingly, he says that Clark is an okay person, but has been aggravated by outside influences. Apparently the bar for constitutes a good person is pretty low for Colonel Lingo. Then a dark strategy sanctioned by the state is proposed. Lingo says that King will be released and is going out of town to a rally elsewhere. Lingo received information from Hoover about a march at night where it will be easy to terrorize the local blacks so they won’t want to cause any disturbances in the future. Since Hoover is aiding the segregationists, the racial bigotry is not just local and is here abetted, ironically, by the FBI, who are supposed to enforce civil rights laws. Wallace realizes that with King not there and the demonstration being at night, the press won’t be around to generate that “drama” that will expose the ugliness of what these two are planning.

The next scene, which is one of the two most brutal in the film, shows the authorities not warning the night marchers to disperse, but rushing toward them and beating them. They pursue them, as if they were hunters, going in for the kill. Some of the African American protestors try to lay low in a restaurant, but the troopers rush in and brutally beat them, including one man and his mother. When the man, Jimmie Lee Jackson (LaKeith Stanfield), tries to resist, a trooper shoots the unarmed man to death. This horrible event is followed by King meeting with Mr. Lee (Henry G. Sanders), Jimmie’s grandfather, to offer his condolences. Lee says that Jimmie promised that Lee would be able to vote before the old man died, something that he already had the right to do when he was a young man himself. The movie wants the audience to see that the fact that there has to be a battle with fatalities to attain what is obviously just is truly unbelievable.

King asks in an impassioned speech, “Who killed Jimmie Lee?” He lets nobody off the hook. He answers his question by saying that although one trooper pulled the trigger, the guilt is shared by the law enforcement officers in general who terrorize minorities. So are the politicians who create an environment that feeds “on prejudice and hatred.” He also incriminates white preachers who are supposed to stand for morality and do not protest these crimes. And, he also blames blacks who don’t fight with their brothers and sisters in trying to overcome this violence against other African Americans. King suggests that they all contribute to a climate that permits tragic crimes such as this one to take place. He notes the death of President Kennedy, and the recent assassination of Malcolm X, to point out that there have been deaths of those at all levels of society due to the struggle for equality. He says that they will continue to fight for what Jimmie Lee died for. He promises to go to Washington to tell the President that his administration caused the death of Jimmie Lee by spending millions of dollars every day for a foreign war in Vietnam, while lacking the “moral courage to defend the lives of its own people here in America.” King here accuses the Federal Government of hypocrisy because its image as a protector of democracy is a sham if it doesn’t ensure liberty in the homeland.

In a strategy meeting discussing the voting rights abuses, King says they need to be specific about what they want done. Unfortunately, the list of obstacles is daunting. The poll taxes exploit the poverty of people, and there is an exorbitant provision that makes an individual pay back taxes for the years one wasn’t registered. The voucher system requires an established voter to vouch for the prospective voter. In many instances, there are no black registered voters, so it’s impossible to get someone to vouch for a black citizen. It’s a sort of Catch-22. The chain of linked impediments to prevent African Americans from voting makes prioritizing what to attack difficult. First, it is difficult to get someone to vouch for a black person. Even if that were accomplished, overcoming that hurdle would only allow admittance into the court house, where a poll tax must be paid, followed by the publication of the name and address of the person trying to register, and which eventually could lead to that person’s death at the hands of the Ku Klux Klan.

King meets with Johnson again and says he is planning a march from Selma to Montgomery to “amplify” the need for a change in the voter registration process.

Johnson says that King’s tactic will put his marchers in danger. King again is negotiating, putting pressure on the President, hoping he will push for voting rights legislation. Johnson, however, is a stubborn and willful man and does not like to be manipulated.

We get a quick cut to one of Johnson’s advisors, Lee White (Giovanni Ribisi), where he tells black leaders working with King that there are credible threats against the civil rights leader’s life, and he shouldn’t be on the front line of the march. Later, Johnson says he wants to talk to Hoover and we know that he is ready to try to undermine King by getting Hoover to release information implicating King in extramarital affairs. These scenes emphasize that there is an inherent danger when one challenges an entrenched system fortified by appealing to the darkest impulses of human prejudices, and that even the President will compromise his morals to maintain political power.

Hoover sends recordings anonymously to King. The audio tapes have sounds of two people having sex. King and Coretta say they know that it is not him on the tapes. But she knows that there were other women with whom her husband was involved and asks if he loved any of them. King’s extended pause before answering is an admission of guilt about his affairs. He is honest with her and says he never loved anyone else. Coretta, crying, admits that what really shakes her are the threats of death to her family, which foreshadow what is to come for her and her husband.

There is voice-over conversation detailing plans to march from Selma to Montgomery, and, again, the exchange sounds like it comes from FBI recordings which, while telling of the strategy of these civil rights leaders, also reminds us that they were constantly being monitored by obstructive forces within the government. There is a cut to Wallace saying there will be no march because it will be disruptive to traffic, his excuse for trying to shut down any demonstration that will be covered by the national press. On the protesting side, strategies are discussed about closing ranks among the marchers and not having all of the civil rights leaders arrested at the same time. They even do role playing to prepare for confrontations with the local citizens. The participants are told that non-violence is not “passive” but instead is quite courageous, indicating that standing up against violence offers a higher moral alternative. The SNCC member John questions his fellow member James for saying King is just grandstanding for himself since he isn’t there in Selma right then (he feels he must be close to his family at this time after his talk with Coretta). John says that the people of Selma want King to lead them, and he will march to Montgomery. We learn that John is John Lewis who has become a leader in the civil rights movement for decades. The local cops, standing literally in the grass roots of the rural white areas, advocate the usual states’ rights call to keep outsiders away from their local domain. They basically are telling the Alabama residents to maintain state sovereignty, that point seeming to be more important to them than just doing what is right. The back-and-forth cuts give the impression of two armies preparing for battle. The effect is to ramp up the tension for the film audience.

In place of the FBI narration we now get a reporter’s description of the marchers as we see these people carrying supplies as they begin their historic journey. The press is there to deliver the “drama” to the American public. Both the FBI reports and the coverage by the journalists add a feeling of accuracy to the proceedings and lend weight to their significance. The state troopers are waiting for the marchers, along with local white spectators. The music combines strings, which seem plaintive reflecting the plight of the protesters, with drums, which provide marching rhythms, indicating the act of the demonstrators, but which also sound ominous. A policeman warns the protesters that their activity is illegal, and tells them to go back to their homes or their “churches,” which is a subversive way of introducing a comforting religious element while also threatening to end the march. King and his companions find justification from religious texts for their efforts, while their adversaries use religion to back up their opposition.

The troopers will not agree to any discussions to prevent violence. They put on gas masks and helmets and charge into the marchers in the other horrific scene in the movie. They knock people down, gas them, and beat the protesters with clubs while on foot and on horses. One uses a whip, a reminder of how slaves were brutalized on Southern plantations during the time of slavery. John Lewis receives a head wound but leads people back to safety. The white spectators cheer the troopers, using the “N” word and displaying the Confederate flag, showing that for them the Civil War continues. The event is broadcast to millions on television, which shows what a sad situation it is that people have to be brutalized before progress can be achieved. The reporter notes that Lewis said he could not see how President Johnson could send troops to Vietnam but not to Selma, implying that the country says it is fighting for freedom abroad while allowing tyranny to exist at home.

While some blacks look for guns to fight back, Young warns them that they don’t have a chance against the firepower of the troopers. One black man quotes the Old Testament about how it preaches “an eye for an eye.” The thrust here is that religion, which, as was shown, can be a source of inspiration for those who want to do good can also be perverted to promulgate violence. Young counters by saying, “I ain’t talking what’s right by God. I am talking facts, Cold, hard facts.” He says, “We have to win another way.” Young tries to temper the understandable desire to retaliate against those that have attacked them. He, being a follower of King, knows that they can only fight for their cause against superior numbers and arms by exposing the hatred of others while not indulging their own violent tendencies.

King returns to Selma and says that they will walk again over the bridge that leads to Montgomery. In front of the reporters he gets the word out by saying that responsibility for the hateful violence inflicted on the “unarmed” (important word, which would not have its sympathetic force if guns were used by the protesters) people of Selma must be shared by all citizens if they let injustice and repression to continue. King uses the situation as a rallying call to recruit all races to join their nonviolent army.

We again have a voice-over which accompanies shots of people leaving their homes, the images backing up what is said by Fred Gray (Cuba Gooding, Jr.) as he tells Judge Frank Johnson (Martin Sheen) that many white people, most of them from the clergy, are coming to Selma. Gray, representing the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, is trying to get a Federal court order to stop the state of Alabama from interfering with the marchers. Judge Johnson says he will not overturn the state mandate without proper proceedings that are scheduled, unfortunately, after the date on which the march is to occur. There is an attempt here by the civil rights movement to prevent violence despite its pragmatic “drama,” but not to the point of rescheduling the protest. The civil rights leaders probably don’t want to allow Wallace the chance to have the court rule in his favor.

President Johnson fumes about all of the protesters he is witnessing outside the White House who are probably increasing due to witnessing the beatings in Selma shown on the TV. White advises the President to allow the march. Then, the Selma event will be over, and he will be in control again. But, Johnson worries that the divide over the civil rights issue in the country is getting too extreme. The President wants both Wallace to call off his “hicks” and King to cancel the march. If they don’t cease what they are doing, he says, “I’ll stop them both.” Johnson is caught in the middle between these opposing forces because he does not want to take a side. But, the opposing forces are increasingly not allowing him to stay on the sidelines.

Assistant Attorney General Joan Doar (Alessandro Nivola) meets with King and Young and asks them not to march. King, who knows how to speak intelligently and persuasively, tells the man that Doar should talk with Wallace and Sheriff Clark about stopping their violence instead of trying to prevent “a peaceful protest.” Doar wants to make a deal to postpone the march, and says the President will back King down the road. Although not stated, King knows he must use the forces that have already gathered and keep up the momentum, or it will dissipate with further delays. Instead, he simply says that those that have gathered want to show their “dignity.” He puts the responsibility on the Federal Government by saying that Johnson can end all of the tensions with “a stroke of the pen,” by securing voting rights. King’s stance, which is politically impressive, is that his way is the only just way, so there is no alternative course of action for him to choose. By taking the higher moral ground, King is saying the President must take responsibility for any violence that results from the peaceful protest if he is not willing to do the right thing.

Many white people of different faiths are welcomed by the black leaders in Selma for the march. One man, James Reeb (Jeremy Strong), a clergyman from Boston, tells a reporter (the film emphasizing the importance of the press) that he traveled there because he heard King’s call to help “innocent people” being denied their “rights.” The point stressed here is that differences in creeds and denominations don’t matter when people are being oppressed. King says to those assembled that despite the government of Alabama and the President not wanting them to march, they must do so because of their “moral certainty.” Although holy wars have been fought based on self-righteous “moral certainty,” King ties his quest not to forcing others to think like him, but instead to have them gain a say in choosing their own paths. The loss of freedom is what he wants to “overcome.”

There is a shot of the Edmund Pettus Bridge (dedicated in commemoration of a Confederate soldier, the name adding more sodium chloride to the African American wounds). This structure is a literal expanse they must cross, but it also takes on symbolic meaning. It can represent the challenge for those who seek justice and freedom to endure, despite the danger, to vanquish those that preach (in a demonic sense) hate and the violence that is the expression of their bigoted rage. They march as a version of Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War” plays, which emphasizes the deadly control that rulers have over their citizens (as you Game of Thrones fans have seen). The troopers unexpectedly withdraw. It seems like a victory, but King is unconvinced. He kneels, and the other marchers follow his lead, as it appears that they are offering thankful praise to God. King then withdraws from the battlefield.

The movement’s leaders question why King did not keep going. King says that the troopers could have sealed off the road behind them, denying them the chance to get supplies or help. Although not stated, the plan of withdrawing the troopers may also have been to eliminate the media focus on the crossing of the bridge where the police beatings occurred before. James from SNCC says there was no trap and that the only reason the troopers didn’t attack was because there were many white people marching alongside the blacks. In this instance, King decided to forego the publicity generated from racially motivated violence. He was willing to have people be angry at him instead of taking the risk that followers might be injured or killed. He writes a letter to Coretta which voices the pain he feels for asking others to sacrifice for the cause.

His words set up the next scene where white racists beat to death two white preachers from Boston, one of them being James Reeb, showing how hatred once unleashed will target anyone. President Johnson keeps trying to maintain a separation between himself and the civil rights movement. Earlier, he told King that the preacher was an activist with one concern, while Johnson was the national leader who had many issues to deal with. He wants to distance himself from the bigots, but that doesn’t prevent him from yelling at King on the phone. He is upset because King’s rallying of the citizens led to some of them pretending to be on a tour and then staging a protest within the walls of the White House. King wants to make sure Johnson realizes he can’t escape the injustices. By influencing the American public with his acts and powerful words, King has been increasing the political pressure on Johnson, wanting to show Johnson that it is the President’s struggle, too. King tells the President that he can stop the unrest. He was elected President only four months prior by the largest margin in U. S. history, and he has the power to change things. King does not buckle under, but keeps advancing his efforts as he tells Johnson that he is “dismantling” his presidential legacy by dragging his feet on getting the voting rights bill passed.

King rides in a car with Lewis and tells him that Johnson won’t act. King is feeling dejected, saying protests aren’t enough. He is expressing feelings of defeat. Lewis now takes a turn inspiring the one who inspired him before. He says he was among a group that was attacked by whites that grabbed anything they could get their hands on to use as weapons. A little girl gouged her nails into Lewis’s friend’s face as the girl’s father beat the man, showing how the poison of hate is passed from parent to child. But, Lewis says that King gave him hope in a speech that declared they will not give up and will triumph. Lewis realizes that King must hear his own words so that he will continue the fight.

The civil rights movement takes the issue of the right to march to the court presided over by Judge Johnson. Coretta, despite their domestic problems, shows up to lend King moral support. While on the stand, King once again shows his intelligence by effectively arguing that he had to defy the order not to march because there were thousands of people who showed up to demonstrate and he thought if he didn’t let a peaceful demonstration proceed there may have been an unleashing of violent, pent-up emotions, causing harm to both sides. The judge decides in favor of letting the march take place because he says that the enormity of the wrongs against the people protesting far outweighs Alabama’s argument that a peaceful march will disrupt traffic. The judge is basically telling the state of Alabama that their argument is ridiculous given the circumstances of how the demonstration is to be conducted and the reasons for it taking place.

Wallace meets with Johnson, and the difference between these two types of Southern gentlemen is contrasted in this scene. Wallace tells the President in a snide, passive-aggressive manner that it’s Johnson’s “responsibility” to stop “malcontents” from disrupting his state. Johnson comes back at Wallace by saying the protests are about voting in his state and how his people are being treated. Thus, he says, “that’s your problem, your responsibility,” (using Wallace’s own word). Johnson points out that Wallace has always wanted to help the poor, so why is he going “off on this black thing?” Wallace shows his prejudice by saying that “you can’t ever satisfy them.” As if it’s too much to ask for someone to have the same rights as any other citizen. Wallace sees blacks as not deserving of sitting at the front of the bus, occupying parks, being allowed to be in the same schools as whites, getting the right to vote, and having an equal opportunity to get a job. Johnson says that they can go out in front of the White House and get rid of the protestors. That way, Wallace won’t have to worry about the President drafting invasive legislation if Wallace just declares that the blacks will be able to vote in Alabama. Wallace agrees that the law of the land states that African Americans have the right to vote, but he has no legal control over county registrars. Johnson knows that Wallace is just being obstructive since the Governor has the political power to influence what happens in the counties. King’s line about worrying about his legacy hit home with Johnson. He questions what will people think of them in 1985? Wallace reveals his narrow way of thinking by saying he doesn’t care what they will think of him. Johnson does, and he shows his contempt for Wallace when he says, “I’ll be damned if I’m gonna’ let history put me in the same place as the likes of you.”

Johnson addresses Congress. He says he is there for “dignity” and “democracy.” Referencing Selma, he says “there is no Negro problem. There is no Southern problem. There is no Northern problem. There is only an American problem.” Johnson has embraced King’s proclamation that everyone is responsible when injustice occurs. To make sure that the Constitution is enforced, Johnson says he is sending a bill to Congress to strike down all restrictions to voting in every kind of election in the country. He then echoes King by saying, “we shall overcome.”

Assistant Attorney General Doar urges caution for King since he fears for the preacher’s safety. He says he knows that King wants to live to witness the fruits of his labor. His words are, of course, tragically ironic, since King reaches the height of his influence only to be assassinated in a few years. King looks wary, saying he must not hide even though he may not be able to see the results of his actions. Of course, we know he will be killed at a young age, and this scene is especially sad.

The movie’s final march alternates with the footage of the actual events, merging the real story with the cinematic one. King gives a speech about the lies of bigotry that proclaim the white race as being superior to the black one, and that deny the truth about how people are entitled to the same rights. Notes at the end of the movie inform us of how Andrew Young and John Lewis excelled in public service. Wallace ran unsuccessfully four times for President, and was paralyzed in an attempted assassination. Sheriff Clark was defeated because of the black vote in the next election, never to hold that office again. But, in the midst of King’s hopeful speech there is a reminder of how deadly hatred can be. Viola Liuzzo, a white woman, driving marchers back to Selma, was murdered by Klansmen five hours after King’s speech. Coretta continued her husband’s legacy, and never married again. Five months after the Selma march, Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act of 1965, with King at his side, the two finally joined in a righteous cause.

At the end of his speech, King asks “when will we be free?” He says soon, and that God’s truth keeps marching on. Many may still be asking whether freedom is safe from jeopardy, and must continue to be defended. There are those that are fighting for truth, because they believe it is currently under siege. The film’s Oscar winning song “Glory” notes that these wars are still being waged.

The next film is The Last Picture Show.