It is often said that there are two sides to every story and The Birth of a Nation is certainly one of the most extreme examples that can be pointed to in evidence of this case. The film is split into two parts, the first of which covers the brief lead up to, effective dramatisation and culmination of the American Civil War. This part showcases all of Griffith's strongest capabilities as a director for the time in which he served American film-going audiences so early on. Although he tends to use special camera effects more for portraying vast scenes of action rather than intimate, reflective moments of beauty, the director nevertheless draws on works like Dante's Inferno and Calibria for inspiration in this regard. And while not quite as revolutionary as you may be lead to believe by other critics, his style and choice of editing amongst other aspects was at least revolutionary when shown in 1915 on American silver screens. There's no doubt about it, The Birth of a Nation is a well-made film.
But then, there's the second part which deals in the aftermath of the Civil War and serves less as a historically-inclined action blockbuster and more of a narrow-minded piece of American culture that unfortunately wasn't just the viewpoint of one man. Indeed, although titled "Birth of a Nation", one could argue that the film rather serves as the birth of film-based propaganda, purely because of this act. Rather fittingly, the film's second act opens with a disclaimer of sorts that vaguely echoes the now all-too-familiar refrain uttered by closet-bigots of "I'm not racist, but " before moving on swiftly to do nothing but demonise one skin colour and anglicise the other. But still, it's not as if Griffith suddenly stops making a good film. He just stops making a morally-sound one, and this is where things get tricky.
On a personal level, I thought the film was distasteful, but mostly engaging. One could argue that maybe such levels of engagement might not have been present if not for the eye-popping, jaw-dropping content and points of view, but Griffith's skills as a film-maker are nevertheless undoubted. The problem is, as a reviewer, who do you recommend this film to? I'd love to say film enthusiasts, but to be honest, I'm probably never going to watch this film again and feel that all things considered, wouldn't have missed out on that much had I gave it a pass. Also, what is it that makes a film "good" or "worth watching" in the first place? This depends upon the individual. For some it's about the stars, others the acting or the plot or the special effects or something else. Many people wonder why The Birth of a Nation is as widely-available and openly praised as an all-time great when at the same time it is as deeply flawed at its moral core as it is. The thing is that critics tend to favour aesthetic and a film being well-made is merely enough to make it worth seeing. That's fine and works for many modern works, but for something as out-of-time as this, it can lead to some problems. Namely that they in-turn end up recommending something vulgar and hateful, racist and bigoted.
So while I can appreciate and understand what makes Giffith's work here such a classic and well-made piece of cinema history, I also find it impossible to sit back and merely ignore everything that's wrong with it, which is a hell of a lot. The Birth of a Nation is surely a spectacle and does plenty of things right, but its naivety and narrow- mindedness about its central views trouble it to the point of bringing down the structure that props it up so loftily. Which is a shame, because at its core is a brilliantly executed tour de force that does what American cinema had never done before, and in some regards, thankfully never did again quite so heedlessly.
But then, there's the second part which deals in the aftermath of the Civil War and serves less as a historically-inclined action blockbuster and more of a narrow-minded piece of American culture that unfortunately wasn't just the viewpoint of one man. Indeed, although titled "Birth of a Nation", one could argue that the film rather serves as the birth of film-based propaganda, purely because of this act. Rather fittingly, the film's second act opens with a disclaimer of sorts that vaguely echoes the now all-too-familiar refrain uttered by closet-bigots of "I'm not racist, but " before moving on swiftly to do nothing but demonise one skin colour and anglicise the other. But still, it's not as if Griffith suddenly stops making a good film. He just stops making a morally-sound one, and this is where things get tricky.
On a personal level, I thought the film was distasteful, but mostly engaging. One could argue that maybe such levels of engagement might not have been present if not for the eye-popping, jaw-dropping content and points of view, but Griffith's skills as a film-maker are nevertheless undoubted. The problem is, as a reviewer, who do you recommend this film to? I'd love to say film enthusiasts, but to be honest, I'm probably never going to watch this film again and feel that all things considered, wouldn't have missed out on that much had I gave it a pass. Also, what is it that makes a film "good" or "worth watching" in the first place? This depends upon the individual. For some it's about the stars, others the acting or the plot or the special effects or something else. Many people wonder why The Birth of a Nation is as widely-available and openly praised as an all-time great when at the same time it is as deeply flawed at its moral core as it is. The thing is that critics tend to favour aesthetic and a film being well-made is merely enough to make it worth seeing. That's fine and works for many modern works, but for something as out-of-time as this, it can lead to some problems. Namely that they in-turn end up recommending something vulgar and hateful, racist and bigoted.
So while I can appreciate and understand what makes Giffith's work here such a classic and well-made piece of cinema history, I also find it impossible to sit back and merely ignore everything that's wrong with it, which is a hell of a lot. The Birth of a Nation is surely a spectacle and does plenty of things right, but its naivety and narrow- mindedness about its central views trouble it to the point of bringing down the structure that props it up so loftily. Which is a shame, because at its core is a brilliantly executed tour de force that does what American cinema had never done before, and in some regards, thankfully never did again quite so heedlessly.