LFF 2011 Review: THE BLACK POWER MIXTAPE 1967-1975

By Shaun Munro / October 15, 2011

rating: 3

While feature films, both those rooted in a firm reality, such as Spike Lee€™s Malcolm X, and those drawing allegorical points about race relations, such as American History X, are a dime a dozen, you positively have not seen it depicted like this. The Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975, a documentary pieced together from Swedish television footage by director Göran Hugo Olsson, is unique in that it presents the jostling between black Americans and the establishment from an apparently neutral perspective, or at least one more affirmatively impartial than the sorts of coverage €“ i.e. propaganda on either side €“ that we€™re used to. While it only examines a brief window of the civil rights movement, it is a crucial one, beginning with Martin Luther King€™s famous bus boycott and the passionately oppositional philosophy of Black Panther spokesman Stokeley Carmichael, while overlaying voiceover input from both those involved who remain alive today, and contemporary black figures as well. The real allure to viewers and fans of history, however, will be the sheer rarity of the footage; gestating in a vault somewhere in Sweden for the last four decades, most of these vignettes haven€™t really been seen outside of Sweden, purportedly because that€™s the way the American administration would have it. Director Olsson presents his glossary in a music-video format, with a fast pace which keep things from ever getting too dry even if it is a fundamentally academic excursion. This approach is surprisingly effective in crafting a narrative-like style which concisely summarises the most important period of the Black Power movement, such that it is liable to be interesting for both history buffs and those relatively unaware of the movement€™s intricacies. Though it is certainly guilty of breezing through a few of the middle years in just a number of minutes, it is clear that Olsson has studiously considered his material and cut his film meticulously to deliver the maximum punch. It becomes more interesting and more than just a scrapbook, though, once it self-reflexively begins to examine the notion of perspective. It appears that the very material in this documentary wasn€™t viewed too fondly by the Americans, who saw the Swedish reportage as unfair, which this film purports reflects Nixon's paranoia at an underclass revolution. This is convincingly linked to the infamous Attica riots before Olsson jumps off to ask some more universal, non-race-related questions such as whether prisoners have human rights. He doesn't linger too long on it €“ presumably through lack of material or time constraints €“ but in this stead sticks to a concise trajectory well enough. There is some unquestionably great rare footage near the end; an interview with activist Angela Davis is especially passionate and sort of cements the entire ethos of the civil rights argument in one swift move, while there are some genuinely hopeful, contemplative moments about the quainter, more familial side of being a black person in mid-70s America. It never becomes trite, though, because the film is at least self-aware enough to gain alternative perspectives, such as one interviewee suggesting that any sort of differentiation between whites and blacks is itself still racist, whether violent or benign. While you probably won€™t agree with everything said, it is compelling food-for-thought and still relevant today. It is through its nature relatively rhetorical and makes a few disturbing assertions that you simply won€™t want to believe €“ chiefly the theory that the FBI kept drugs pumping throughout impoverished black neighbourhoods to keeps blacks oppressed €“ and it seems a little too eager to blame society rather than individuals for the drug problem, but that is in many ways the film€™s beauty; it is a smattering of viewpoints and more keen to open discussion rather than to in itself judge or take a firm stance. Understandably, to some viewers that might be simply frustrating. It's a dizzying mess of perspectives and lacks a firm head on its shoulders, but history buffs will find this assembly of footage €“ largely unseen outside of Sweden €“ to be riveting and important. The Black Powder Mixtape 1967-1975 is released in the U.K. on Friday.