Within Our Gates
Dir: Oscar Micheaux
Scr: Oscar Micheaux
Phot: unknown
Ed: unknown
Premiere: January 12,
1920
79 min.
The wonder is not only how good it is, but the fact that it
got made at all.
Oscar Micheaux (1884-1951) was an African-American. As such,
he was excluded from the mainstream culture, denied the means of production to
make cultural products. So, he made them on his own. Within Our Gates is his earliest surviving feature film, and its
intelligent boldness is worlds away from what Hollywood was cranking out at the
time.
Micheaux began his creative career as a novelist while in
his 30s. A producer’s interest in adapting his first book into a film led to
Micheaux doing it himself, in 1919. Over the next 30 years, he made at least 42
films, providing what came to be termed “race films” — that is, films for black
audiences.
Though only his second film, Within Our Gates demonstrates a maturity far greater than that of
mainstream films of the day. He tackles prejudice, racial violence, and the
dilemma of black people faced with innumerable obstacles to “uplifting”
themselves, to be taken seriously and given respect. Micheaux’s characters are
intelligent and complex, in sharp contrast to the usual depiction of
subservient, unintelligent “darkies” in mainstream film.
In the film, young teacher Sylvia tries to raise money for a
black school in the South — the key to empowerment is education. Her quest takes
her to the North, where prejudice still exists under the niceties of polite society.
In saving a young child from a speedy automobile, Sylvia is struck herself and taken
to the hospital. Providentially, the car that struck her was owned by a wealthy
philanthropist who give her ten times the money she needs.
Interspersed among Sylvia’s adventures are portraits of African-Americans
from many classes and types, not shying away from negative portrayals. In
particular, Micheaux gives us a black minister, Ned the preacher, who uses
religion cynically to control the gullible. He tells his congregation that
white affluence and political power condemns their souls, while the black folk,
simple and pure in heart, will humbly go to heaven. He literally lets his white
bosses kick him in the ass. Only when alone does he admit his complicity to himself.
This kind of examination and criticism of organized religion was unprecedented
in any film before or at the time, and in few films after.
The film ends with a flashback that shows us a double lynching,
as well as a sexual assault. These white crimes are portrayed matter-of-factly,
as though they would be familiar to the film’s viewers. Though the final
moments of the movie are given over to optimism, it’s the mayhem of white violence
that sticks in the memory. “And remember the white man makes the law in this
country!” says one intertitle.
Micheaux’s film pulls no punches. If white people of the
time thought about its subjects at all, they would have judged the film as
deeply subversive, as it was and still is.
The NFR is one
writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry
in chronological order. Next time: ‘The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.’
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