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After Sherman
Directed by
Jon Sesrie Goff
Produced by Blair Doroshwalther, Madeleine Hunt Ehrlich, and Jon-Sesrie Goff
Written by Jon-Sesrie Goff
Produced by Blair Doroshwalther, Madeleine Hunt Ehrlich, and Jon-Sesrie Goff
Written by Jon-Sesrie Goff
With:
Rev. Dr. Norvel Goff, Sr., and Jon-Sesrie Goff
Editing:
Blair McClendon
Music: Tamar-kali
Music: Tamar-kali
Runtime:
88 min
Release Date: 03 March 2022
Release Date: 03 March 2022
The contemporary movement in documentary filmmaking of directors placing themselves at the center of their movies, making their relationship to the subject matter they're exploring the principal point of entry for viewers, is a trend I really hope ends soon. Nine times out of ten, the idea that showcasing this personal connection will add layers of relevance ends up downgrading a potentially fascinating documentary to a mildly interesting personal essay film. A worthy exception can be found in Jon Sesrie Goff's poetic and expressionistic debut feature After Sherman. The film explores the Southern Black experience from the perspective of someone who grew up in the Gullah culture at the heart of this movie, but with the infectious curiosity of an outsider historian's point of view.
Goff grew up spending summers in coastal South Carolina, the place his father, and African Methodist Episcopal Church pastor, has always called home. The plot of land, just a mile from the plantation where Goff's ancestors were enslaved, has been in their family since the 1860s when after emancipation many black families purchased land near where they once worked. Today, more and more of the small plots in this once entirely black-owned area are getting bought up by white developers who are transforming it into a tourist destination. Goff himself is a Northerner, a Brooklyn-based filmmaker focused on telling all kinds of stories. But one day he will inherit his family's land and with it, all its complicated history of pride and racial trauma. The violence experienced by this community is not just in the past, which becomes clearer and more pointed as this deliberately paced picture unfolds.
A traditional documentary examining the questions about land ownership, cultural belonging, citizenship vs subjugation, and the history of racial violence in America, might start with the event that occurs in the middle of After Sherman, in order to announce to the viewer why this film is important. But Goff eschews anything that feels sensational or "ripped from the headlines" because the story he's telling is not about one moment in time, but a multi-century narrative that continues to unfold. The result is a documentary that is part historical document and part meditation on critical but unanswerable questions. Goff's choice not to subtitle the interviews he conducts with members of the Gullah community who speak with a thick dialect mirrors every other decision he makes in the film. It requires us to lean in, to pay closer attention than we might to a documentary that spoonfeeds us its talking points. There are no subtitles in real life, so when we have difficulty understanding an individual or a community we can either make an extra effort to bridge that divide or not make any effort at all. That simple choice speaks volumes about the many themes After Sherman invites us to think about.
Twitter Capsule:
Goff grew up spending summers in coastal South Carolina, the place his father, and African Methodist Episcopal Church pastor, has always called home. The plot of land, just a mile from the plantation where Goff's ancestors were enslaved, has been in their family since the 1860s when after emancipation many black families purchased land near where they once worked. Today, more and more of the small plots in this once entirely black-owned area are getting bought up by white developers who are transforming it into a tourist destination. Goff himself is a Northerner, a Brooklyn-based filmmaker focused on telling all kinds of stories. But one day he will inherit his family's land and with it, all its complicated history of pride and racial trauma. The violence experienced by this community is not just in the past, which becomes clearer and more pointed as this deliberately paced picture unfolds.
A traditional documentary examining the questions about land ownership, cultural belonging, citizenship vs subjugation, and the history of racial violence in America, might start with the event that occurs in the middle of After Sherman, in order to announce to the viewer why this film is important. But Goff eschews anything that feels sensational or "ripped from the headlines" because the story he's telling is not about one moment in time, but a multi-century narrative that continues to unfold. The result is a documentary that is part historical document and part meditation on critical but unanswerable questions. Goff's choice not to subtitle the interviews he conducts with members of the Gullah community who speak with a thick dialect mirrors every other decision he makes in the film. It requires us to lean in, to pay closer attention than we might to a documentary that spoonfeeds us its talking points. There are no subtitles in real life, so when we have difficulty understanding an individual or a community we can either make an extra effort to bridge that divide or not make any effort at all. That simple choice speaks volumes about the many themes After Sherman invites us to think about.
Twitter Capsule:
Goff's feature debut explores a cultural legacy in the context of Southern Black history and contemporary racial tensions; a rare example of the first-person trend in current documentaries that actually serves its subject well.