The best film yet by editor-turned-documentarian Sam Pollard (Mr. Soul!, MLK/FBI, Citizen Ashe) is this fascinating look at a little-known chapter in the history of the American Civil Rights Movement. In 1965, Lowndes County, Alabama was one of the poorest counties in the US. Located between Selma and Montgomery, it was a small settlement made up of about 80% Black sharecropper families, yet it didn't have a single registered Black voter. With this film, Pollard and co-director Geeta Gandbhir (I Am Evidence) explore the critical role of collective action in the fight for civil rights. Though some well-known leaders of the movement are mentioned, Stokely Carmichael in particular, Lowndes County and the Road to Black Power offers an important and timely counterpoint to the standard narrative of civil rights history that focuses on the work of charismatic leaders like Martin Luther King Jr. rather than the everyday organizers of activist entities like SNCC — the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee.
Pollard, Gandbhir, and editor Viridiana Lieberman blend contemporaneous and present-day interviews as well as astonishing archival footage, lots of which I've never seen before, and some that has been used in countless Civil Rights documentaries but given fresh meaning when used in this context. We see captivating speeches and illuminating interviews (representing both Black and White voices) to tell an extraordinary history of the collective effort this small town made to elect African Americans to local political positions like sheriff and tax assessor. The story includes the creation of the first Black-led political party, the Lowndes County Freedom Organization, and the creation of the black panther symbol. The iconic drawing of a lungeing panther was adopted by Bobby Seale and Huey Newton when they founded the Black Panther Party in Oakland CA in 1966, but it originated in Lowndes County as a symbol placed next to Black candidates on their ballots so that illiterate folks would know who to vote for (the White candidates had a white rooster as their symbol.) The film goes into detail about what a tremendous act of courage it was for Black people not only to run for public office in this defiantly anti-Black hamlet but even to vote.
The filmmakers celebrate the achievement of changing the system from within, without pretending that this means to an end is necessarily an end to itself. In our current times, when so many view representation as a victory regardless of content or performance, this is a vital theme. And unlike many popular documentaries, Lowndes County and the Road to Black Power is not a movie that pats viewers on the head, reminds us how terrible race relations were in the "bad old days," and sends us out thinking happy thoughts. As much as the picture is a time capsule, the struggles and tactics explored here are lessons for today. By telling a tale that's both inspiring and confrontational, Pollard and Gandbhir contribute a crucial document to the Civil Rights canon. No mere footnote about a little-known chapter in this struggle, the movie is a reminder that the work of promoting equal rights, fair treatment, and anti-racism is work that must be shared by us all.
Twitter Capsule:
Pollard, Gandbhir, and editor Viridiana Lieberman blend contemporaneous and present-day interviews as well as astonishing archival footage, lots of which I've never seen before, and some that has been used in countless Civil Rights documentaries but given fresh meaning when used in this context. We see captivating speeches and illuminating interviews (representing both Black and White voices) to tell an extraordinary history of the collective effort this small town made to elect African Americans to local political positions like sheriff and tax assessor. The story includes the creation of the first Black-led political party, the Lowndes County Freedom Organization, and the creation of the black panther symbol. The iconic drawing of a lungeing panther was adopted by Bobby Seale and Huey Newton when they founded the Black Panther Party in Oakland CA in 1966, but it originated in Lowndes County as a symbol placed next to Black candidates on their ballots so that illiterate folks would know who to vote for (the White candidates had a white rooster as their symbol.) The film goes into detail about what a tremendous act of courage it was for Black people not only to run for public office in this defiantly anti-Black hamlet but even to vote.
The filmmakers celebrate the achievement of changing the system from within, without pretending that this means to an end is necessarily an end to itself. In our current times, when so many view representation as a victory regardless of content or performance, this is a vital theme. And unlike many popular documentaries, Lowndes County and the Road to Black Power is not a movie that pats viewers on the head, reminds us how terrible race relations were in the "bad old days," and sends us out thinking happy thoughts. As much as the picture is a time capsule, the struggles and tactics explored here are lessons for today. By telling a tale that's both inspiring and confrontational, Pollard and Gandbhir contribute a crucial document to the Civil Rights canon. No mere footnote about a little-known chapter in this struggle, the movie is a reminder that the work of promoting equal rights, fair treatment, and anti-racism is work that must be shared by us all.
Twitter Capsule:
Eye-opening doc about a little-known chapter in the Civil Rights Movement. Focusing on everyday organizers, Pollard and Gandbhir shift the standard narrative off the charismatic leaders and onto the collective action that truly creates change. A fascinating story told exceptionally well.