Bad Civil War Art

Bouie makes a good point–there are really not good Civil War movies.

But “Gettysburg” isn’t unique here. One of the most striking facts about our cinematic depictions of the Civil War is that, with a handful of exceptions, they are either sympathetic to the Confederate position or outright supportive of the Confederacy. It is a testament to the crushing triumph of Lost Cause propaganda that neither “The Birth of a Nation” nor “Gone With the Wind” are isolated instances of Confederate sympathy but emblematic of Hollywood’s perspective on the heroes and villains of the conflict. (And that’s before we get into the Western trope of the noble ex-Confederate looking for a new life in the frontier.)

Other than Steven Spielberg’s “Lincoln,” which is a political drama more than anything else, we haven’t had a big Civil War picture in a long time and we probably won’t; the subject is too niche in an era where Hollywood is loath to take a risk on anything isn’t based on an existing popular property. But if anyone is thinking about writing a Civil War film, I would hope that he or she would write one with an unabashedly pro-Union perspective — a film that foregrounds slavery and takes a skeptical view of Confederate mythmaking.

The war that began as a fight to restore the Union and ended as a crusade against human bondage stands as one of the finest moments in our nation’s history. It deserves a Hollywood epic that tries, as much as possible, to tell the truth.

Is it really any better in fiction? Probably the only major piece of literature that came out of the Civil War experience was Crane’s The Red Badge of Courage, which is a totally apolitical piece. What have the other great Civil War books been? I know some people really liked Cold Mountain 20 years ago or whatever, but c’mon. There are a number of great novels about slavery and its complexities, but the war itself? I am probably forgetting something here, I grant you, but whether we are talking about film or fiction, it’s not great. Moreover, while Ken Burns’ The Civil War has its high points, it’s use of the vile Shelby Foote as the key talking head means that it is fatally compromised.

In the end, this subject was too touchy at the time for many artists to touch, as the explosion of postbellum American fiction really tried to avoid it, outside of someone like Albion Tourgée, furious at his experiences in the South. And then the history of film meant Jim Crow for the first six decades and a deeply contested memory in the decades since. It’s hard to make a huge blockbuster film on a subject that divides the nation, not because it can’t be done, but because the studios are headed by cowards.

So here we are. Maybe someday.