"An educated Negro is a dangerous thing to have around."
Subtitled "A Story of the Negro and the South," this is Oscar Micheaux's take on systemic racism in the Jim Crow south, and a remake of a silent film that was lost. A Harvard graduate (Carman Newsome) attempts to start a school for blacks, but is swindled by an unscrupulous white banker, a ruse his buddy (Alec Lovejoy) uncovers in the "stopper clause" of his deed, one that forbids blacks from doing anything on the property. It's notable that his buddy is a WWI war hero and yet faces life as a second class citizen, something that would resonate even harder in America seven years later after WWII, though not enough was done with this in the film.
There are several white characters in positions of power who want to keep black people down, spewing among other things the quote I started this review with. Even the "good" white guy, the benefactor, cautions the young black man against marrying the "Negress" (which he uses synonymously with "Thief") and having children, in what seems like a eugenics inspired speech. How I wish the black man had responded to that in some way. In general, there is too much filler in the dialogue, and not enough bite. One of the intertitles from the silent film that was cut by New York and Chicago censors at the time read "Legal - hell - anything a white man wants to pull over on a nigger is legal" and I wish there had been more of this kind of thing here. Also, the ease with which the Harvard graduate is duped undercut the message of the film, at least to some extent. As for the rest, it's marred by many of the problems Micheaux's other sound films have - weak dialogue, poor acting, and a stumbling manner in telling the story.
However, I must confess, when that dancer burst out into the nightclub at the 14:10 point, swaying her hips sinuously in essentially a modern bikini, I thought to myself, well, regardless of what happens from here on out, this film has guaranteed itself a certain minimum rating. I mean, god damn, Josephine Baker had nothing on this woman, and I only wish I could identify her (anyone who knows, I'm all ears). Did this little interlude have anything to do with the plot? Not really, but it was a five-star couple of minutes for sure. There is another number performed by Hazel Diaz (playing the sister, Ida May) and eight chorus dancers at the 58:21 point that also had a lot of life to it as well. Micheaux really allowed his performers to let loose here, and I only wish that freedom and naturalness was felt everywhere else.
