Roman J. Israel, Esq.

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

Roman J. Israel, Esq. (2017) is not just about a stereotypical crusading attorney trying to do good, although his name suggests the establishment of laws in ancient Rome, and the struggle for freedom by the Jews in their own country. He always stresses, the “Esquire” because, as he says latter, it’s a title of dignity, “slightly above ‘gentleman’ and below ‘knight,’” probably a designation he would like his profession to be worthy of. The main character does want to accomplish judicial reform, but he is a conflicted man who is capable of succumbing to the pessimism of fighting a broken legal system and willing to give into his selfish needs. The film examines the internal conflict between the angels and demons inside a person, and the hope for redemption.

We know right from the beginning that Roman (Denzel Washington) is a flawed person because he is writing up a legal brief suing himself, stating he should be disbarred for being a hypocrite and betraying everything he stood for. But, the fact that he is indicting himself shows that he is aware of his violations. IMDb notes that the letters are in all caps except the word “he,” implying that Roman is a servant of something greater than himself, possibly the righteous intention of the law. The typing with Roman’s voice-over allows for backstory to be introduced. Roman worked in a two-partner law firm in Los Angeles, and his job was “drafting briefs, motions, and pleadings.” But his partner took care of the courtroom activities.

The story then jumps backward three weeks. Washington looks more like Professor Cornell West than The Equalizer, appearing pudgy, with a medium Afro haircut (which shows his sympathies for the protest movements in the 60’s and 70’s) and large glasses, which stresses he is a thinker, not an action figure. However, his partner, William Jackson, has a heart attack, leaving Roman to clean up the pending cases. The legal assistant, Vernita (Lynda Gravatt), tells him to just ask for continuances as a delay tactic.

Roman is behind the times with what is happening in the present, as he doesn’t even know that another attorney retired a few years ago. He is afraid to go through security, saying the detection equipment will wipe out the songs on his early generation iPod. He carries a flip phone. The prosecutor in the first case doesn’t even know that Roman was the partner. Roman tells her that he doesn’t have the temperament for what happens in a courtroom. He shortly shows why since he is sarcastic about what he considers is the severity of the charges against a seventeen-year-old for breaking and entering. She says the defendant was caught wearing a gang member’s insignia. Roman’s sharp response is that’s like wearing “a flag pin in a lapel.” He is saying the display of an affiliation does not mean it should finalize a judgment of someone. He is confrontational, accusing her of just trying to advance her career. She says her conviction rate is “one hundred per cent,” which is a warning, but also sounds like a boast, which justifies Roman’s view of her. He argues that the youth has one minor prior offense, his dad is in jail and his mother is a drug addict. He joined a gang for protection given circumstances beyond his control. Roman says, “Each of us is better than the worst thing we ever did.” His remark indicates that Roman sees a person as a complex creature and should not be judged in his or her entirety by one action. (Washington said that he saw Roman as being on the spectrum, which would account for his lack of social skills).

The young man, Langston Bailey (Niles Fitch), is scared, thinking he would be remanded to juvenile detention. Roman’s crusade is that those being charged with crimes don’t usually get to have their day in court. He tells Langston that private companies build and run prisons, and the workers get paid overtime, so they scare the accused into accepting plea bargains, increasing incarceration which is a profitable enterprise for some, and career-building for others.

In another case involving the sale on three occasions of cocaine, Roman, instead of accepting the judge’s offer for a continuance, argues that his client was denied bathroom usage and not issued his Miranda Rights. The judge overrules Roman, who continues to show his combative nature by arguing, despite warnings to cease. The judge then cites Roman for being in contempt, and the firm can’t afford the fine.

Roman is at war with the world around him because he feels it does not follow the intent of the law. He calls in complaints about construction nose near his apartment since the work is being done outside of legally prescribed hours. He makes many of these calls. In his home he has many jazz record albums that he plays on his turntable showing his inclination for older versions of technology. He doesn’t take care of himself, since he is eating a peanut sandwich with numerous jars of Jiff in the background, the image succinctly conveying the message. He carries around a large briefcase that could be used for weight training. He has a bulging file of typed papers, held together with rubber bands and clips, with no laptop or electronic storage devices in view (we later learn what this huge file contains). On his walls are mementos of 1960’s sayings and images, again illustrating his dedication to civil rights causes.

Roman meets with Lynn Jackson (Amanda Warren), his partner’s niece and power of attorney, and learns that his partner is in a “permanent vegetative state.” Also present is George Pierce (Colin Farrell), a prominent lawyer, who Jackson designated to take over if the occasion arose. Roman wants to handle the workload, but Lynn tells Roman that the firm was doing pro bono work and had been in the red for many years. The plan is to conclude existing cases which George would handle and then liquidate the firm. Roman is devastated emotionally and worries about his financial survival. George shows his admiration for the Jackson, and wants to get hold of the records on existing cases. Roman has it all on cards, not on data bases, which is what George expected to get things moving. Roman has a photographic mind and knows a case that George handled eight years prior (he is like a high-functioning Rain Man). He accuses George of being part of the system of plea-bargaining that short-changes justice. George gives Roman a ride and says he was his Jackson’s law student. He later threw work toward Jackson’s firm, and he received a kickback for each case he referred. It may not have been ethical, but it kept Jackson’s firm running to take care of the social justice cases the firm wanted to pursue. George’s admission reveals to Roman that his boss was a realist, not just an idealist. He says he can use Roman’s keen mind and he’ll pay him double, but the purist Roman declines the offer.

Roman goes to an organization that does civil rights work so he can work as their attorney doing big headline cases, and he states their current work is too limiting. But the worker there, Maya Alston (Carmen Ejogo), tells Roman they are all volunteers, but he can give a talk to civil rights activists about legal matters. She respects Roman as she tells her colleague that his fight for civil rights was initiated by a man like Roman.

Roman continues to search for employment and is continually rejected. His frustration leads him to act as he does later, including working at George’s office. George has him meet Felicity Ellerbee (Elisa Perry), saying he will be working with her to defend her brother who was involved in a robbery and is charged with first degree murder of a shop clerk. The brother was not the shooter and was not complicit in the killing. Felicity has mortgaged her home for the defense, which points to the burden placed on the non-wealthy to mount a decent defense. For that reason, Roman agrees with her that he also doesn’t like the way most lawyers practice law.

George assigns similar cases that will pay little to Roman. George gives these clients the same canned reassurances about getting the best defense possible as he attempts to appear as if the firm is handling cases for people on the economic fringe. However, he does not utilize full resources on these cases. Roman hears a Latino lawyer, Salinas (Tony Plana), telling an unfeeling joke about a domestically abused woman, and then states an ethnic slur which offends Salinas. The attorney doesn’t like it when he is on the receiving line of nasty comment. Roman then says that lawyers like Salinas are “tourists,” as if to say they are just visiting the lives of the clients, but not emotionally committed to the defendants’ plights.

George later chastises Roman for insulting the number two man in the firm, Salinas. Roman’s reluctance to embrace modern times is again shown when he says he didn’t respond to George’s email by saying, “I’m sorry, when people send an email, they seem to think it goes straight to your brain.” Roman says George brought him onboard, “to put your feet to the fire ‘cause you’re tired of treating low-income clients like dollar signs, and maybe because you remember what it was like to actually care.” Roman is giving George credit, which George doesn’t want to accept, probably because he knows the prime function of most law firms is to “make a buck.” Roman then reveals what that huge collection of paper documents he carries consists of. He has 3,500 names for a class-action suit to reform the plea-bargaining system, where, he says, “guilt or innocence is being completely replaced by fear of having your day in court where people are being forced … to plead guilty under the threat of overly harsh, coercive sentences.” He adds that reforming the system is a job for a “legend,” which may be an attempt to persuade George to take up this fight. Or, Roman may also be showing his ego as the squire who wants to be a knight in shining armor. In any case, he urges George to use his resources to reform the legal system. Despite the impassioned speech, George just wants Roman to handle the cases assigned to him.

Roman sees Derrell Ellerbee, Felicity’s brother, and tells the inmate that he can be charged with second-degree murder for aiding and abetting since he knew the accomplice carried a gun to the robbery that resulted in the death of the victim. Derrell wants to make a deal, saying he will testify against his partner, Carter Johnson (Amari Cheaton), and will divulge where he is hiding. Faced with no hope of acquiring help to fight the rigged system, Roman first tries to reduce the charge against his client. But the persecutor will not go below a ten-year sentence and refuses to hear any more debate from Roman. Her response pushes Roman’s anti-establishment button as he condemns her by saying, “I’m sorry for taking a nanosecond off of your assembly line rubber-stamp existence.”

Roman, who doesn’t even have a car in the automobile-dependent city of Los Angeles, which also points to his outsider existence, still attends the meeting that Maya invited him to. He is there to speak about the rights of those arrested for civil disobedience. Roman starts out with an urgency for protesting the wrongs of society, and the cost for opposing the powers in command. But, his old-fashioned ways get him into trouble with a couple of young women in the group who consider what he calls “chivalry” to be sexist when he says that men should let the two females sit down. (We again get a reference to the way Roman sees himself as a knight, like Don Quixote, fighting against a corrupt world). The women are belligerent and Roman argumentative, and he walks out. Maya follows him, and he admits to saying the wrong things. He admits to his outsider way of being, saying he was not meant for this world, being a forceps-delivered baby. As the two talk, Maya notices a homeless man sprawled out on the sidewalk. Roman thinks the man is dead as a police car stops close by. Roman puts his card in the man’s pocket, but the cops tell him not to put anything on the body. The man comes to, and stumbles away. Roman wanted to be contacted by the coroner so he could pay for the funeral. He tells the cops he gave his information so the man “doesn’t end up as just some body. He’s a person.” The scene shows how Roman’s desire to treat even the dead with decency contrasts with the resistance of the law enforcement system.

Roman’s holier-than-thou attitude backfires on him since his attempting to bargain for his client and then rejecting the prosecution’s offer without informing his client allows for an attack on Derrell Ellerbee to take place. The youth is killed before being put into protective custody. George is furious with Roman, saying it opens them up to a lawsuit. He says he will retain Roman until his work is done and then will fire him. If Roman doesn’t go along with the plan George will have him disbarred.

Roman is mugged on the way home at night and he fights the man off saying, “You’ve got the wrong guy.” His statement refers to the fact that he has no money, but more than that, ironically, it means he is being attacked by the kind of social outcast he has been trying to help. He then visits his comatose partner. He shares his disillusionment with Jackson’s wife. He tells her that there are places where people sit on beaches and enjoy life, and he now implies that he is going to drop out of an irretrievably broken system and take care of his own needs.

Since he no longer has a client to bargain for, Roman anonymously calls in the whereabouts of Carter Johnson, the shooter of the shop clerk, to collect the $100,000 reward. He has the cash dropped off in an alley in a dumpster, which symbolically shows that Roman’s ethics have been trashed. He looks at himself in the mirror, a traditional symbol to reflect the other side of a person, which is usually negative. He goes to the Santa Monica seashore, eats doughnuts, buys new clothes, stays at an upscale hotel, and enjoys the beach. He even rents a luxury apartment, greases down his large afro and is now able to text and order an Uber. He is becoming part of the modern tech “me” movement.

When he returns to George’s firm, he looks cool in a new suit. George informs him that his partner died, and George is apologetic about how harshly he treated Roman. Jackson’s niece, Lynn, told George how vital Roman was to her uncle’s firm, and that Roman was only used to being in the background. That made it difficult for him to be thrust into courtroom proceedings. George also says they picked up three clients because Roman always hands out his business cards to others. George validates Roman’s worth by saying that it will now be a standard practice for his attorneys to hand out cards. Also, there will be no lawsuit about what happened to Derrell Ellerbee, since the man’s sister felt Roman was doing what he could for her brother, which eventually turned out to be Roman doing what was best for himself. Roman wants to stay on at the law firm. He says, “I’m tired of doing the impossible for the ungrateful.” He is feeling no satisfaction at this moment for his crusading for the underprivileged.

His new stance of thinking about his own needs seems to be paying off. George starts up a new pro bono program that Roman will head. This proposal seems ideal since Roman will be helping poor people but through a rich law firm that can pay him a good salary. Also, Maya calls to ask him out to dinner. He takes her to a fancy restaurant whose expensive menus contrasts with Maya’s talking about how Roman’s progressive activism on behalf of others was a real inspiration to her just as she was having doubts about achieving justice for the disadvantaged. He seems to justify her skepticism and his own by saying that “purity can’t survive in this world.” He says something that is illegal, like stealing a car, can be a tool for escape. He is justifying doing something unlawful, like taking the reward money based on his client’s information, which allowed him to get away from his failing attempt to right the wrongs of the justice system. Maya is acting as his conscience, reminding how “blessed” it is to believe in a cause.

At Jackson’s funeral, the minister talks about the long arc of justice that Roman’s partner was invested in. Roman has his head down, which appears to reflect his mourning, but it also suggests that he feels the push back against his current revised path away from his mentor’s. Lynn, Jackson’s niece, urges Roman to speak at her uncle’s memorial. Roman declines because his now cynical attitude places the blame for society’s problems on the individual, not the institutions. He tells her, “The real enemies aren’t the ones on the outside, they’re on the inside.” Maya gives Roman the ceramic bulldog which belonged to her uncle, a symbol of the need for stubborn persistence in the face of unfair opposition. Roman places it in his office, and as he stares at the object it becomes a reminder that he has relinquished his convictions.

George confesses to Roman that he was not going to be a lawyer until he had a class with Jackson who showed the possibilities of making positive changes for the good in the legal system. George then committed to the law, but he says that one has to make a living and now owns several offices. Jackson saw his mercenary ways as “drowning in the shallow end” of a pool, a nice metaphor to point to the lack of meaningful depth in George’s work. George is even ready to help Roman with his long struggle to attack the plea-bargaining problem that denies the opportunity for trials. Now that Roman is there, George’s desire to connect with the disadvantaged community is renewed, and it is ironic that George’s capitalistic ways have had the opposite effect on Roman.

George meets Roman for a new case at the correctional institution, and Roman learns that it is a capital offense involving Carter Johnson, the man Roman anonymously turned in based on Johnson’s now deceased partner, and Roman’s former client, Derrell Ellerbe. When George turns the discussion over to Roman and leaves, Carter tells Roman he knows he’s in prison for life and that it was Roman who turned him in by breaking the law regarding privileged information. He then tells Roman, “you broke your own law,” and says he will reveal the lawyer’s crime so that he can be in jail. In any event, Carter is out for revenge. Roman is scared by the threat and, in a panic, calls for the guard to get out of the prison he fears he may be placed in.

Outside, Roman tears off his suit jacket, as if he needs to breath, and the piece of clothing has become a monetary straitjacket that he traded his values in for. He receives a call at work from an unidentified source and no one speaks on the other end before hanging up. Back at his old apartment he fluffs up his afro, as if to change his appearance, but it also seems like he’s rejecting his new way of life. He rents a U-Haul truck to help him flee the scene. He is paranoid that he is being followed. He takes a desert road (suggesting the desolate nature of his current life?) and a car comes up quickly behind him, causing Roman to veer off the road and head out of his vehicle. The other car comes back, and its occupants ask if he is okay. He says, “I was running. It was a mistake.” He could literally mean his going into the desert on foot, but he really refers to how he is running away from his problems.

He receives a call from Maya who is sad because a volunteer quit saying that he was just there to improve his resume. Roman’s comment is, “The ability to have conflicting ideas in one’s head takes effort.” He may be talking about the worker, but he could be referring to himself, torn between his idealism and skeptical selfishness. He says he is in a desert, and she thinks he means the barrenness that can exist in one’s mind. Of course, she is also correct. Her advice is to move oneself out of that lonely place, and that is what Roman literally and figuratively does.

Roman goes back to the firm and uses its legal resources to continue his epic plea-bargaining suit. We now return to the beginning of the film as we see him preparing the petition against himself. As he is typing, a worker says he heard that Roman accepted the reward money for the case he was working on and asks if the rumor is true. Obviously, Carter has publicized Roman’s crime. He tells his assistant he is leaving and that the man can handle the workload. He meets Maya at a bar and gives her the bulldog, as if passing to her the torch of what’s “vital” in the practicing of the law.

George saw Roman on the street and followed him to the bar. George heard of the accusation about the reward. Roman says he doesn’t care about the money, and he is heading to the police station to turn himself in. He says he had an epiphany that he is, “the defendant and the plaintiff simultaneously.” He goes on to say that he convicts himself, and “the only thing left is forgiveness, and I grant that to myself. An act doesn’t make the person guilty unless the mind is guilty as well.” It is a controversial statement, since although true forgiveness must eventually come from within, one can be objectively guilty while believing what one has done is a righteous act.

Roman tells George that the young lawyer can have a “shining” future, which may again hint at the “knight in shining armor” he envisions a great lawyer can be. As he walks off a car stops and a man with a gun gets out. Roman receives a call and says he remembers who the caller is, since he gave him his business card. He is in the act of serving someone again when George hears a shot. We do not see Roman, but George approaches and finds Roman’s thick briefcase on the ground, and we know that Roman is dead, as he has paid the price for his loss of faith in his quest.

The next scene shows George opening Roman’s briefcase and reviewing the documents. Maya instructs followers concerning legal protests as Jackson’s bulldog sits above her meeting, watching over her. After having the law firm prepare the argument, George submits the documents in Federal Court. He is honoring Roman’s legacy, as is Maya. Roman mailed back the reward money, minus five thousand dollars, which he had hoped to repay. He says in his letter, “We are formed of frailty and error. Let us pardon, reciprocally, each other’s follies. That is the first law of nature.” His last words transcend written statutes and suggest practicing compassion is what would prevent human transgression.

The next film is Black-k-Klansman.

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.