"History is for each of us to interpret for ourselves": Selma and The Imitation Game
Following with interest the controversies over historical accuracy in two recent biopics, Selma and The Imitation Game.
When it comes to Selma the question is about the role of Lyndon Johnson in the civil rights movement. It seems that there's justifiable debate about his involvement in the protest marches - and there's an argument that focusing too much on LBJ, even if the focus were accurate, would have the effect of downplaying the agency, importance and centrality of the black leaders of the civil rights movement. (See also John Lewis tells his truth about 'Selma'.)
However I do find the justifications of the director, Ava DuVernay, slightly glib:
According to Diane Nash, John Lewis, Andrew Young and the people on the ground who were there - the citizens of Selma - that's not their truth, but history is for each of us to interpret for ourselves, so anyone's opinion is valid, truly it is. This is my opinion, this is the way is I see it, the way that my collaborators see it. Source
Maybe there needs to be more of an emphasis on subjective truth when you're telling a story from the point of view of voices that have less often been heard. But if you accept that stance in general, then if 300 is Frank Miller's truth about the Spartans and the Persians, then who's to argue?
I would have felt far easier if Ava DuVernay had said either, "look, there's no evidence that LBJ was behind Hoover's attempted blackmail of MLK but it makes a better story," or, "it may be a minority view but I believe that there is a good chance he actually *was* behind it, as a compelling case has been made." But that's just my truth.
When it comes to The Imitation Game I feel on firmer ground. The Guardian described it as "inventing a new slander to insult Alan Turing," and that sounds about right when it comes to the film's attempt to turn Turing's story into an extension of Cambridge Spies. But what seems even more egregious is the way that it creates, in the words of a Tumblr post by Morgan Leigh Davies, "a narrative structure of heterosexuality" around Turing's life. Not just the narrative importance of his one-time fiancée, but the way that his eventual arrest is framed as a consequence of suspicion of him as a spy, rather than as a consequence of his own openness with the police after a petty burglary.
In short his arrest and conviction was a simple, banal injustice, of the sort that every gay man in mid-century Britain had reason to fear, and the very banality and meaninglessness of his fate is exactly the point.
(See also this NYRB article, A Poor Imitation of Alan Turing.)
This entry was originally posted at http://naraht.dreamwidth.org/587748.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
When it comes to Selma the question is about the role of Lyndon Johnson in the civil rights movement. It seems that there's justifiable debate about his involvement in the protest marches - and there's an argument that focusing too much on LBJ, even if the focus were accurate, would have the effect of downplaying the agency, importance and centrality of the black leaders of the civil rights movement. (See also John Lewis tells his truth about 'Selma'.)
However I do find the justifications of the director, Ava DuVernay, slightly glib:
According to Diane Nash, John Lewis, Andrew Young and the people on the ground who were there - the citizens of Selma - that's not their truth, but history is for each of us to interpret for ourselves, so anyone's opinion is valid, truly it is. This is my opinion, this is the way is I see it, the way that my collaborators see it. Source
Maybe there needs to be more of an emphasis on subjective truth when you're telling a story from the point of view of voices that have less often been heard. But if you accept that stance in general, then if 300 is Frank Miller's truth about the Spartans and the Persians, then who's to argue?
I would have felt far easier if Ava DuVernay had said either, "look, there's no evidence that LBJ was behind Hoover's attempted blackmail of MLK but it makes a better story," or, "it may be a minority view but I believe that there is a good chance he actually *was* behind it, as a compelling case has been made." But that's just my truth.
When it comes to The Imitation Game I feel on firmer ground. The Guardian described it as "inventing a new slander to insult Alan Turing," and that sounds about right when it comes to the film's attempt to turn Turing's story into an extension of Cambridge Spies. But what seems even more egregious is the way that it creates, in the words of a Tumblr post by Morgan Leigh Davies, "a narrative structure of heterosexuality" around Turing's life. Not just the narrative importance of his one-time fiancée, but the way that his eventual arrest is framed as a consequence of suspicion of him as a spy, rather than as a consequence of his own openness with the police after a petty burglary.
In short his arrest and conviction was a simple, banal injustice, of the sort that every gay man in mid-century Britain had reason to fear, and the very banality and meaninglessness of his fate is exactly the point.
(See also this NYRB article, A Poor Imitation of Alan Turing.)
This entry was originally posted at http://naraht.dreamwidth.org/587748.html. Please comment there using OpenID.