Nate Parker

  • The Birth of a Nation (2016)

    (In French, On TV, September 2022) What a difference six years can make. At the beginning of 2016, writer-director-producer-actor Nate Parker had the world on a string—The Birth of a Nation came out at Sundance to great reviews, and was purchased for distribution by a major studio for no less than $17.5M (roughly twice its production budget). The cultural winds were blowing favourably for Parker, as several black filmmakers were emerging from their apprenticeship to meet commercial and cultural success. At first glance, all the pieces were there for Parker to become one of the hottest directors of the moment, alongside such notables as Barry Jenkins, Ava Duvernay, Ryan Coogler and others. But then. Wow. Parker’s past sins came back to haunt him and the sky fell on his head. A sordid story of rape and suicide dating back to his college days resurfaced, and Parker was effectively… what’s the word… cancelled. While he’s still technically working on very small projects, he has been practically disowned by Hollywood-at-large and at this point it seems almost certain that he’ll never make it back to the big, the middle or even the best of the small leagues—forget director’s jail, he’s in director’s hell. So what do we make of The Birth of a Nation, now that it’s showing up in translation as late-night filler? It’s actually a decent film—perhaps not as transcendent as similar films (of which there are many), but decent enough to show promise—clearly a springboard to bigger and better things. As a story of Nat Turner’s early-19th-century slave rebellion, the cheekily-titled The Birth of a Nation doesn’t hold back in depictions of white cruelty and retribution—there’s no mistaking who’s a hero here. It makes for a very watchable film—harsh and decidedly not fun, but spirited in its convictions. On the other hand, this is one case where the result isn’t strong enough to make one overlook the flaws of the creator (or, looking at it from another Polanski-informed perspective, that the creator had enough of a respectable filmography to overcome his toxic history). So it is that The Birth of a Nation is destined to end up as a curious footnote in black film history—with few people willing to defend it. I won’t be one of them.

  • Beyond the Lights (2014)

    Beyond the Lights (2014)

    (On TV January 2021) Beyond the Lights isn’t unique in taking us backstage of a music superstar’s public image (heck, it’s not even the only such film I watched today with an unintentional double bill with The High Note), but it can depend on decent execution and a good ensemble cast to distinguish itself. In between Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Minnie Driver, Nate Parker and Danny Glover, there are plenty of interesting actors here. As a romantic comedy, Beyond the Lights starts with unpleasant sequences, as a prologue depicting parental abuse is followed by a suicide attempt by the film’s grown-up protagonist. Fortunately, a handsome policeman (Parker) is there to prevent the superstar signer (Mbatha-Raw) from falling to her death, and what follows is a romance mixed with attempts from the singer to extricate herself from an artificial persona facilitated by her domineering mother (Driver, in a surprisingly unlikable turn). Straightforward direction by Gina Prince-Bythewood doesn’t get in the way of her own script. I have long been interested in Mbatha-Raw, but this early film is a far better showcase for her talents than many of her later performances: the role is complex, spans various emotional states and even if it’s not clear whether she performed her vocals, it takes presence to credibly play a musical superstar. I have a few qualms about the male protagonist’s character, but those things have to be put in perspective considering that it’s female-centric romantic comedy. Still, I had a decent time—despite overused plot devices (is there a single movie singer who doesn’t dream of singing their own heartfelt material?), Beyond the Lights is an entertaining film that, by now, almost qualifies as an overlooked one.