The Great Debaters

“The Great Debaters” concludes with a debate match between the small all-black Texas Wiley College and Harvard­—shot in Sanders Theater. In the sequence, a debater from Wiley calmly but daringly calls on the mostly white audience to do something about racial violence and injustice in the South.

Yet the movie itself, which takes place in 1935, is not nearly as courageous as the historical characters whose story it tells.

The plot originates in the real-life story of Wiley College, whose debate team rose to top levels under the guidance of the soon-to-be-named poet laureate of Liberia, Melvin Tolson (Denzel Washington). Three students (Jurnee Smollett, Denzel Whitaker, Nate Parker), each gifted in their own way, work through the national college debate circuit, culminating with a fateful competition against the dear old Crimson.

In many ways, the film is a sure thing. In addition to acting, Washington also directs, and the picture is produced by Oprah’s Harpo Productions. Oprah and company decided to release the movie on Christmas Day, a season markedly less frivolous but no less considerable than that of the summer blockbuster. And for all the high expectations, the flick delivers. In fact, it not only makes for an entertaining two hours, it’s actually intelligent.

Sure, the eponymous debates are pretty specious—you could make a drinking game out of the contradictions in the Harvard debate team’s speeches alone—but I suspect this is a calculated trade-off. After all, we’re talking about a film here, not a philosophy paper. Even a dyed-in-the-wool culture snob such as yours truly has to permit a bit of slack in exchange for a watchable movie.

In the final analysis, the film’s myriad of merits derive from its high brow repartee, its majestic visual representation of an African-American South as intellectual as it is sensuous, its unapologetic portrayal of gruesome racial violence, and its mise-en-scène of rhetoric.

So the movie is a success then. Right?

Well, yes, but no. It’s a success on its own terms.

The whole time, I couldn’t help but feel that something was off. Considering the film is a debate movie, I was hoping to be jerked in one direction and then the other as each debate worked itself out. I felt no such agitation. I wanted to feel some of the insecurity that organizers, leaders, and everyday African-Americans experienced in the face of systematic violence and uncertainty. Maybe even feel a little uncomfortable as a white person. But I felt a little too comfortable.

Have you ever seen “Hoosiers?” What about “The Mighty Ducks?” Even “Happy Gilmore?” All of these movies follow a formula. Fate sends the little guy several improbable talents and, though they may face hardships along the way, they ultimately prevail. Without revealing too much, let’s just say the movie hardly wanders from this format.

The predictability of the plot isn’t the film’s only shortcoming. In one scene, the film more aggressively addresses the audience: at a debate in Oklahoma City, the reactions of the observers divide along color lines, in a way that should provide a funhouse mirror reflection of the movie-watching audience.

If the film were shot more bravely, it would make us question our own situation piercingly, ontologically. It doesn’t; there are too many visual cues that tell us, “This is just a movie, this is just like any other movie.” We are suspended in the painless world of continuity editing—nothing dare disturb us from our slumber. How can the Hollywood orthodoxy of eyeline matches and the hackneyed methods of portraying space, continuous diagetic sound, and re-establishing shots (in short, everything that makes a movie feel slick and unreal) ever shake an adult audience as deeply as the subject matter calls for?

When Washington’s character boldly writes the word “Revolution” on the chalk board the first day of class, the theater screen feels especially opaque. Vladimir Mayakovsky once asserted that there is no revolutionary art without revolutionary form. And the film doesn’t present any revolution to its viewers

This isn’t to say “The Great Debaters” isn’t good. I would even recommend it highly. Just be warned that it neutralizes all the volatility of the real historical situation, and what precipitates out is a commercial product, exchangeable for any other commercial product. Spike Lee it ain’t.