Kickin' It Old School: Review of "The Birth of a Nation, Part 1"

D. W. Griffith's The Birth of a Nation was such a revolutionary film nearly 100 years ago that it's difficult to sum up all its innovations. We're talking about what is now basic stuff, here: parallel cutting, panoramic long shots, epic battle scenes with hundreds of extras, film tinting, camera panning, even iris shots. You name it, and Griffith likely invented it with this movie. Of course, as you watch it, you'd have no idea that he came up with the techniques because the film employs them so fluidly and naturally. And that's saying a lot for something as old as this one.

I chose to review this movie in two parts because of its length (3 hours and 6 minutes) and also because its two segments are thematically quite different from one another. Also, Griffith himself split the film in two for theaters, with a brief intermission in between. The first part concerns two families in the antebellum United States, one from the North and one from the South. Each is led by a patriarch named Stoneman and Cameron, respectively, and both families are quite large as well. However, the film focuses mostly on the daughter of Austin Stoneman, Elsie, along with Ben, Margaret, and Flora Cameron. Once the Civil War begins, however, a divide is driven between the two families, with Stoneman aligning himself with the Union cause, and Cameron with that of the Confederacy.

Although the movie is significantly grounded in history, the plot is mostly symbolic, meant to represent the transformation of the United States by war, as well as the sympathies of the director. For example, Stoneman is appropriately named, and he is shown to be a cold father, preferring instead to expand on his powers as a Congressman. Cameron, on the other hand, is very much a family man who is depicted as spending all of his time with his wife and daughters while his sons fight in the war. In addition, when the Cameron household is attacked, they are saved by Confederate soldiers. Even Ben gains some recognition in the war for his heroism, earning the moniker, "the Little Colonel."

Symbolic or not, the saga of these two families is really quite fascinating, and despite the massive cast of characters that populate this film, their intersecting lives are easy to follow. The scale and tone of this film reminds me of Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace, which is not a comparison I make lightly. Griffith effortlessly maneuvers between massive scenes on the battlefield and intimate family moments at the Cameron residence as those left behind fret about their loved ones.

Of course, given this movie's age, not everything in it has stood the test of time. I am watching the movie through Netflix, and the print available there is in dire need of a clean transfer. Griffith also spends a bit too much time on the battle scenes, which is understandable considering the relative monstrosity of his budget at the time—you'd want to linger on your most expensive scenes, too. There is also the matter of the silent aspect of the film, but that is simply an issue of personal taste. If you didn't like silent films before this movie, you certainly won't have your mind changed afterward. However, the score that accompanies the film holds up surprisingly well, despite its insistent presence.

Since I haven't gotten to the second part of the film yet, I cannot speak to the controversy surrounding it. I look forward to it, though, as the end of the first part leaves you on a thrilling cliffhanger. The only thing I will say about it is that my choice in poster hints to the historical tragedy that closes the first part. But thus far, I am extremely pleased with my initial viewing of Griffith's seminal movie. I am just happy that I am being entertained just as much as I am educated while sitting through it.