There's a good reason why the film refers to the titular Alabama city and not Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (David Oyelowo) himself. Set in the months leading up to the historic Voting Rights Act of 1965, Selma is about the movement more so than the man. It shows the push for equality from the streets to the dining houses, from the church pew to the White House itself. When the film begins King is just receiving the Nobel Peace Prize for his civil rights efforts, but that peace is contrasted by the deaths of four black girls in a 1963 bombing. The heinous attack brings startling focus to the reality of life for African-Americans, when their lives could be snuffed out at a moment's notice for no reason.
Violence is one thing, but King's real focus is the political and legal
infrastructure that allows such actions to occur. Without the right to vote
nothing else matters. Oprah Winfrey, in a small but pivotal role as Annie Lee
Cooper, tries unsuccessfully to register to vote in Alabama only to face rejection
by a racist putting her through an impossible impromptu quiz. But just because
King and his supporters, which include Andre Holland as Andrew Young, Common as
James Bevel, Tessa Thompson as Diane Nash, and Stephan James as a young John
Lewis, can agree on the end result does not mean they agree on an approach.
Help from President Lyndon B. Johnson (Tom Wilkinson) is slow going, despite
their frequently combative conversations on the matter. King is shown to be a
shrewd strategist, knowing when to step back and when to force the issue. A
move to Alabama for a series of televised marches, which he knows will be met
with violent resistance by racist governor George Wallace (Tim Roth), is the
most effective way to bring global attention to the cause and force Johnson
into action.While the protest scenes are captured with urgency and energy by cinematographer Bradford Young, King's home life with wife Coretta (Carmen Ejogo) is depicted in subtle, tense strokes. There's a tenuous dynamic of loyalty, love, acceptance that plays out between the two. She loves her husband, supports the fight he champions, but endures death threats that put their kids in jeopardy. Through the machinations of the FBI she's also keenly aware of King's infidelities, and at times we can see her weighing whether all the fear and heartache is worth it.
It's that personal touch DuVernay brings that makes Selma so special.
She's perfected her craft through a pair of well-regarded dramas, I will
Follow and Middle of Nowhere, but you'd never know this was her
first time working on such a large canvas. She digs into the details that make
King great without idolizing the man, making him more human than we've ever
seen him in a film like this. One can't help but wish we could have spent more
time with others crucial to the movement. This is one film that could have used
an extra hour. It would have meant more time spent watching Oyelowo's
commanding performance, one that he's been working up to for years. Attached to
the role since back when Lee Daniels was on board to direct (thank goodness how
that turned out), we've seen Oyelowo's profile and confidence build until it
seemed nobody else could be more perfect for the role. He lives up to the heavy
burden, giving the rare performance that more than meets King's stature. The
soaring, iconic speeches will leave you breathless and inspired.Most important is that Selma is truly worthy of Dr. King's legacy. So many biopics this time of year have great performances with stories that feel diminished, inconsequential. Selma is a true triumph; a vitally important film with a legacy destined to endure. What can't be ignored is the sad truth that much of the work King and others fought for was undone recently when the Supreme Court gutted the Voting Rights Act. The greatest message Selma sends is that it doesn't matter how many years have passed, there is still reason to get out there and march.
Rating: 4.5 out of 5
