Son of the South (2020)

Son of the South review by Mark McPherson - Cinema Paradiso

Son of the South is the type of film that is about four decades too late to the conversation. While it is true that Bob Zellner was a great ally for civil rights during such a chaotic time in the South, as well as continuing that fight into the 21st century, his memoir of The Wrong Side of Murder Creek: A White Southerner in the Freedom Movement feels like a better read than a movie. His story of growing up in the South and learning about what it means to fight against oppression when it seems to be the norm is treated more like melodrama than it should. It’s this staging that makes the film feel, perhaps indirectly, more like a white savior narrative than it should.

The film takes place in the early 1960s of Alabama, where Bob was a senior in an all-white Huntingdon College. As the son of a Methodist minister, he’s somewhat aware of the rocky race relations in his state. He aims to learn about it by attending a black church. Though Bob and his fellow students are eager to sit on such a religious experience, the black crowd is confused by their presence. They gently try to tell them that being present in such a building may be a dangerous association considering how unfairly targeted the African-American community is by the Southern law enforcement. Sure enough, the cops pull up to the church and start arresting people. Luckily for our white protagonists, they escape out the back door. The way the film frames this, however, is that Bob is more in danger than, you know, the black people being arrested and beaten by the police.

Soon enough, Zellner becomes a target of the bigots of his community. A cross is burned on his lawn and he’s warned by his family to not get involved with the civil rights movement. That’s a hypocritical statement by his grandfather considering that the elder is a member of the Ku Klux Klan. For the rest of the film, Bob exists just outside such events of police raids and mob fights, trying to do right but only in small bits and pieces. As time marches on, he slowly recognizes that he can’t stand idle while the African-American community is deeply oppressed by a racist system. He proceeds from being a kinda-sorta observer of the movement to the SNCC's first white field secretary.

That’s an interesting story but not enough to warrant a full movie. His tale feels like one piece of a bigger puzzle about the civil rights movement. Perhaps if it were a piece in an anthology series on the 1960s civil rights battles of South it would hold greater promise. But for focusing on Bob for the entire film, there’s this shallow nature for never becoming as powerful enough to properly stress how crucial civil rights were during this time when they were under attack. What damages this narrative is that the ultimate goal seems to be one white man’s discovery that he can’t be on the sideline. Had this been a movie in the 20th century when civil rights era movies were just starting to come out, that might’ve meant something. After so many other incredible movies told from black voice during that time, Bob’s story feels so minor and not as impactful.

There is a huge missed opportunity to explore all of Bob’s life. Consider that he was arrested in 2013 for protesting against voter ID laws in North Carolina. Yes, he was protesting such laws before they became more crucial to stress. He’s also been beaten and arrested several times for his activism. THAT’s the more interesting tale of Bob to be told. Watching a movie about Bob’s eureka moment of realizing “I should probably do something about all this racism” is a far less compelling film.