History as Sequel

Samuel Sloves, Media Arts and Technology

Hollywood has always loved familiar properties—whether it’s a sequel, a remake, or a film based on a news item, novel, play, song, toy, or comic book (for the purposes of brevity ‘sequel’ will stand in for all of them). While it seems particularly egregious now with the theaters overflowing with sequels, prequels, threequels, reboots, etc.  ad nauseum,.  this practice goes back to the very early days of film.  And with this abundance of sequels, it is uncanny the way films’ relationship to history maps onto our present day, almost like… well, almost like a sequel.

The idea of a sequel can be found in the earliest films. In the transition from novelty to potential vehicle for storytelling, film had not yet figured out all of the tricks we now take for granted.  Prior to title cards and developing a language of film, shorts were often based on existing popular subjects.  Sherlock Holmes Baffled is a one-minute film about a disappearing criminal featuring the familiar detective.  The first great female film director (and studio head), Alice Guy Blaché made The Birth, the Life and the Death of Christ based on that widely-known book, “The Bible.”  It was sold in America as 25 separate 1–2-minute films depicting key moments from the canonical gospels.

As film progressed to more sophisticated stories and more sophisticated ways of telling stories the sequel never waned. Most of the both critically-acclaimed and financially successful films of the silent era were based on previous work —from The Big Parade, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Way Down East (remade 3 times in the silent era alone) and the spectacular that popularized the feature film, The Birth of a Nation.

The Birth of a Nation was based on a novel and then play by Thomas Dixon.  While feature length films had some popularity in Europe—and a few had been made in the US—The Birth of a Nation was the first blockbuster feature from Hollywood.  After its release, the nascent American film capital of America, Hollywood, galloped into the production of feature films.  And here, both the (film) industry and its product (movies) illustrate a certain history as sequel.

Early film was a wild affair of patent infringements, bootlegging, and straight out stealing. If one company had a popular story, another production company might remake it, but they were also prone to simply take the film itself, make copies and sell that film as their own work.  Laws and business norms could barely keep pace with the changes.  The industry settled into an early oligopoly (Universal, MGM, Paramount, Fox, Warners, Columbia. and UA) which dominated and standardized the industry and came to control it outright. For those who have watched the rise and consolidation of the internet and its domination by FAANG (Facebook, Amazon, Apple, Netflix, Google) this progression seems eerily similar.

And then the fake news.  Early in film, there were fabrications and recreations sold as the real thing.  These came to popular acclaim during the Spanish American War where reenactments, fabrications, or subtle misrepresentations were screened with little context and ambiguous, if any, provenance.   A horrifying film of Cubans being executed by Spanish soldiers from the Edison company is listed in the Library of Congress extensively as footage of Cubans being executed in the Spanish American War.  Only lower down in the description is there any indication that it is not a documentary (sort of) as it lists the genre as historical reenactment as well as nonfiction!

Which leads up to The Birth of a Nation.  While President Wilson was busy re-segregating the federal work force and pushing other roadblocks to equal opportunity, Griffith made The Birth of a Nation. James Baldwin eloquently summed up the film, “The Birth of a Nation is an elaborate justification of mass murder.”  It is pure fiction, and to be clear, the birth of said nation is the nation of the KKK, glorified as a savior to white people and the American way.  It was a film production that practiced what it preached. Blacks were treated poorly in its production—all major roles were whites in blackface, and as Griffith himself said, “The decision was to have no black blood among the principals.” Further, housing for cast and crew was segregated for a film that vilified, ridiculed, and dehumanized black people in the plot.  And this was the first feature screened in the White House. Another screening for Washington heavyweights included Chief Justice White [sic], a former Confederate and member of the KKK. Dixon planted a quote in the press attributed to Wilson (it is still contested as to whether Wilson actually said it), “It is like writing history with lightning. And my only regret is that it is all so terribly true.” Regardless of whether he said it, with his silence afterwards, Wilson may as well have been saying there were good people on both sides. Immediately after the release of the film, membership in the KKK skyrocketed, so this is not an academic matter.  The film had genuine consequences for America, much as Charlottesville gave free reign to the Proud Boys to move from the shadowy world of the internet and brazenly promote their hatred.

Fortunately, there were those who spoke out, protested, and boycotted the film.  And, here to paraphrase Hunter S Thompson is where the vile turn pro. In another eerily familiar move, Griffith took great offense to this criticism and offered ten grand to anyone who could show one falsehood.  Notwithstanding the myriad of untruths, he never paid up. Sound familiar?  Further, he was so offended, he went on to make a film called Intolerance which depicted four instances of intolerance throughout the ages—yes, Jesus made the cut; no, any form of racial discrimination did not.  To be clear, he made this film to highlight the injustice of intolerance that had been propagated against him for making a racist film. So, pick your character who has committed vile acts and made him or herself out to be the victim: Trump repeatedly, Cuomo vehemently, and a litany of insurrectionists incessantly.

And then came sound.  The Jazz Singer (the first version) has the hero give his victorious performance in blackface.  It is almost quaint how Hollywood films whisper the truth while singing (in blackface) the lie. Hot on its heels is one of the first color blockbusters—Gone With the Wind—a film that largely speaks for itself.

While the consolidation and corporate domination of Hollywood diminished the output of blatantly fake news, the studios were not adverse to promoting propaganda that supported the US geopolitical interests.  And when they felt their bottom line might be at risk, they were not above the manufacture of fake news to smear the threat.  Irving Thalberg , a big studio head, produced a series of “fake news” newsreels that torpedoed the gubernatorial campaign of Upton Sinclair.

So finding historical films that align with our current preoccupations is not difficult.  And with events galloping at a head-spinning pace, they recur and recur.  Casablanca is a wonderful film when looked at as being about the plight of refugees.  Watching actual refugees (actors who were forced out of Europe by Hitler) out singing Nazi toadies in Rick’s Bar is emotional gold.  This played as a poignant if glossy reminder of the indignities of caged children and Syrian refugees—and within a blink now plays apropos the Ukrainians. The film at the time was a subtle(?) call for the neutral America as represented by Rick to join the war to combat the devastation of an authoritarian butcher.  Again the reboot is in the news daily.

And even Casablanca can’t evade the ongoing clash over race in America.  A rival casino owner offers to buy the  “Piano Man” (Sam) who performs at Rick’s, and Rick smugly responds, “I don’t buy or sell human beings.”…to which a  frustrated professor screams “anymore, you don’t buy and sell human beings anymore!” from the back of the screening room.  Rick is a not-so-subtle stand-in for America in the film. He proudly proclaims he doesn’t buy or sell people, but we all know from Birth of a Nation that Rick certainly did so in his youth.  And yet to focus on the past would dilute or even negate his point.  In fact, Rick is a stand-in for what America would like to think of itself. and so here we see the disjunction between a Trump/Youngkin/Justice Roberts view of race, i.e., that it is a thing of the past and to imply otherwise would ruin the movie.

So, to see how it  plays out—whether it’s critical race theory, treating LBGT people with dignity and respect or the plight of refugees—you can go back to the original and watch it on the big screen.  But don’t expect to find a Hollywood ending, just a setup for the sequel.

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