I decided to see this short documentary on the 28 August 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom in anticipation of Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Obviously, the climactic moment of the film, as it was for the demonstration, as well as a defining moment of the civil rights movement and one of greatest pieces of oratory ever, was King's "I Have a Dream" speech. The significance of the march is well known, I suppose, being one of the largest political rallies in history and being credited with helping pass the 1964 Civil Rights Act. Being a contemporary record of the event, the film was appropriately added to the United States National Film Registry for being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant."
It's bizarre that King's speech is removed from versions of the film available today, although it's easy enough to find audio of the speech and play it together with the picture. The film's Wikipedia page, for one, is set up for just that. This is a consequence of American copyright law that reserves rights to the speech to King's estate for 70 years after his death (thus, we should be able to see an officially restored and complete film in the public domain in 2038--assuming Congress doesn't Mickey Mouse another extension of copyrights by then).
Another strange American law relevant to "The March" is that government or propaganda films such as this one, distributed by the State Department's Information Agency, aren't for domestic consumption. Indeed, they're legally barred unless the government deems otherwise from domestic distribution for so many years. This includes the Voice of America and other such broadcasting. Anyways, besides government officials, it wasn't Americans, then, who saw this documentary in 1964. It was whomever foreigners the State Department was targeting for the spread of such information.
It's interesting in this respect that the film doesn't illustrate a perfect picture of America, as otherwise such a march and speeches wouldn't have been needed. A bit of "voice of God" narration at the beginning adds further context of America's history of slavery and contemporary racism. But, it's a mostly hopeful picture, and there's an emphasis on interracial images--both black and white faces--protesting in harmony. At President Johnson's behest, an introduction from the Information Agency's director Carl Rowan was added making explicit the federal government, Johnson and the late President Kennedy's approval of the event. (Although, I guess, nobody told Hoover's FBI that, with another result of the march and speech being that King and the movement became a greater target of the COINTELPRO operation.) For government-sponsored propaganda, "The March" with its message of racial equality is commendable. It's just a shame it wasn't also screened in American theatres or TVs, too.
Yet, the march and King's speech were broadcast nationally on television at the time and have since become a staple of schooling and continued broadcasts on such occasions as MLK Day, at least assuming teachers and broadcasters are doing their jobs properly. Still, this film is a fascinating look at not only King's masterpiece of rhetoric, but also speeches by others, including the headline quotation of this review from remarks by the march director A. Philip Randolph, as well as songs, including "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands" by Marian Anderson, and the oft-repeated anthem of the movement "We Shall Overcome" being chanted by the crowds. The film is full of peaceful and joyful imagery, of protesters riding to the event in buses and trains, preparing signs, reacting to the songs and speeches and cleaning up afterwards, as well as aerial cinematography and shots from other angles of sites around the Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial. The observational approach of most of the picture is perfect, as if the camera were just another participant there in the moment. No need for extensive narration or talking-head interviews. Just a day when a dream was shared and history was written.
It's bizarre that King's speech is removed from versions of the film available today, although it's easy enough to find audio of the speech and play it together with the picture. The film's Wikipedia page, for one, is set up for just that. This is a consequence of American copyright law that reserves rights to the speech to King's estate for 70 years after his death (thus, we should be able to see an officially restored and complete film in the public domain in 2038--assuming Congress doesn't Mickey Mouse another extension of copyrights by then).
Another strange American law relevant to "The March" is that government or propaganda films such as this one, distributed by the State Department's Information Agency, aren't for domestic consumption. Indeed, they're legally barred unless the government deems otherwise from domestic distribution for so many years. This includes the Voice of America and other such broadcasting. Anyways, besides government officials, it wasn't Americans, then, who saw this documentary in 1964. It was whomever foreigners the State Department was targeting for the spread of such information.
It's interesting in this respect that the film doesn't illustrate a perfect picture of America, as otherwise such a march and speeches wouldn't have been needed. A bit of "voice of God" narration at the beginning adds further context of America's history of slavery and contemporary racism. But, it's a mostly hopeful picture, and there's an emphasis on interracial images--both black and white faces--protesting in harmony. At President Johnson's behest, an introduction from the Information Agency's director Carl Rowan was added making explicit the federal government, Johnson and the late President Kennedy's approval of the event. (Although, I guess, nobody told Hoover's FBI that, with another result of the march and speech being that King and the movement became a greater target of the COINTELPRO operation.) For government-sponsored propaganda, "The March" with its message of racial equality is commendable. It's just a shame it wasn't also screened in American theatres or TVs, too.
Yet, the march and King's speech were broadcast nationally on television at the time and have since become a staple of schooling and continued broadcasts on such occasions as MLK Day, at least assuming teachers and broadcasters are doing their jobs properly. Still, this film is a fascinating look at not only King's masterpiece of rhetoric, but also speeches by others, including the headline quotation of this review from remarks by the march director A. Philip Randolph, as well as songs, including "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands" by Marian Anderson, and the oft-repeated anthem of the movement "We Shall Overcome" being chanted by the crowds. The film is full of peaceful and joyful imagery, of protesters riding to the event in buses and trains, preparing signs, reacting to the songs and speeches and cleaning up afterwards, as well as aerial cinematography and shots from other angles of sites around the Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial. The observational approach of most of the picture is perfect, as if the camera were just another participant there in the moment. No need for extensive narration or talking-head interviews. Just a day when a dream was shared and history was written.
