Can't We All Just Brer Along?

I finally got a chance to see Song of the South, the much-maligned, much-debated, rarely-seen in the US film that has generated so much rumor and hysteria that it borders on urban legend.

The arguments against this Oscar-winning 1946 film are rooted in the “understanding” that it portrays blacks negatively, as slaves overly-gracious to their white overlords. This movie, by the simple fact that it takes place after the Civil War (Reconstruction, for you history know-it-all’s) has become a sensitized issue all unto itself--and mostly by people who've never seen the movie.


The film hasn’t been shown in it’s entirety since its re-release in 1986 (a release that broke the box office record at the time for an animated feature, if you care to follow those sorts of things), the only scenes ever shown on television are of Brer Rabbit and Uncle Remus singing “Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah”.

Thanks to the wonderful world of pirated DVD’s, I was able to actually watch this film that, although released to audiences in Europe on dvd, has yet to be seen again in the US.

I realize I am judging this film from the standpoint of a white male, but I've recently watched this film and my reaction was, "Wow, this is not as bad as everyone has made it out to be."

What I mean is that, based on the stigma surrounding this film, the tension created by the mere mention of its title or lead character, I was expecting Uncle Remus to run around like some Amos ‘n Andy reject, pop-eyed and yelling 'Massah, massah!', talking about spooks and witches and curses, much like Jim in Huckleberry Finn. After finishing the movie, the one glaring fact in my mind was that Uncle Remus is the most charming of all the characters.

At the opening of the film in Atlanta, Georgia, the NAACP picketed the film, drawing much attention to their disapproval of the portraits painted in the picture. The blacks singing as they work on the farm, the campfire dancing sequence. I can see how these would be seen as a step backwards, but the NAACP could have done a much greater service picketing Gone With The Wind or any Little Rascals short featuring Farina.

The important thing to remember about this film is that the wonderfully baritone James Baskett is playing Uncle Remus and not Uncle Tom.

Beginning in 1881, the character of Uncle Remus was a way to get down in print local folklore, tales of morality told with animals as the main characters, the same style fables that have been told for hundreds of years.

In the film, Uncle Remus is the one adult the children (poor, rich, white, black, boy, girl) know they can count on, the one who has a clear distinction between right and wrong, good and bad. The distasteful characters in the movie are all white (ex: the little white trash boys that want to drown a puppy for fun. Seriously.) and at no point does anyone talk down to Uncle Remus or treat him as an inferior.


In fact, everyone in the movie treats Uncle Remus like he’s the only adult within 100 miles with the exception of Sadie, portrayed by Hattie McDaniel (first black actress to win an Oscar for GWTW). When the boy Johnny is on his deathbed, the one person he wants to see is Uncle Remus, the only person with whom he made any real connection and, in return, has had an impact on his life.

If Disney was so concerned about the political tumult that might come from embracing Song of the South, then why build an entire ride around it?

Splash Mountain captures the characters and stories (minus the Tarbaby, thankfully) of this film and the stories of Uncle Remus, yet asking for the re-release of the film sounds like you’re asking them to release every porno Traci Lords made before she was 18. To hold onto the Oscars the film received, to use the award-winning song in every way possible, but then to shrug in an embarrassed confusion when someone asks what movie those all come from is silly. By ignoring the existence of Uncle Remus in regards to the world of Disney is to shame him.

I say, embrace the memory of Uncle Remus the way Johnny does at the end of the film. Realize the effect he has on those seeking wisdom and a connection, the father figure he was for those who had none. Remember him as the look-on-the-positive-side-of-life Uncle Remus, with the warm laughter and the calming voice, the man who lets you know everything will be okay, the man who himself was someone’s Laughing Place.

Would this movie be made, today?

It’s hard to say. If it was, though, and Morgan Freeman was in the role of Uncle Remus, I have to wonder if the character would really be played that differently?