Reviewed by Colin Jacobson (April 24, 2022)
Given the furor over “Critical Race Theory” (CRT) in the current political climate, this either seems like the best time or the worst time to look at a movie that gets into those topics. Whatever the case, 2021’s Who We Are promises “A Chronicle of Racism in America”.
Primarily Who stems from the perspective of attorney Jeffrey Robinson. Some of the project comes from his stage lecture, but we also follow Robinson as he visits various spots to cover different domains.
Along the way, Robinson speaks with others. He chats with “Flags Across the South” chairman Braxton Spivey, law student Darren Martin, sister of Terence Crutcjer Dr. Tiffany Crutcher, Old Slave Mart Museum operations manager Ista Clarke, Sights and Insights Tours owner Al Miller, Eric Garner’s mother Gwen Carr, Inside Out Tours managing director Stacey Toussaint, Elmore Bolling’s daughter Josephine Bolling McCall, Shelby County Commissioner Tami Sawyer, retired Alabama state senator Hank Sanders, attorney/civil rights activist Faya Ora Rose Toure, 1921 Tulsa Massacre survivor Lessie Benningfield Randle, Tulsa AME Church pastor Reverend Dr. Robert Turner, African Ancestral Society president Chief Egunwale F. Amusan, Robinson’s childhood friend Robert Orians, Robinson’s childhood coach Richard Orians, Larry Payne’s sister Carolyn Payne, Robinson’s family friend Kathie Fox, and Robinson’s brother Larry Robinson.
As I mentioned at the start, Are comes out when a certain contingent desperately wants to suppress any discussion of racial issues. They want to pretend the US never suffered from problems related to racism in the past, much less now.
To some degree, Are attempts to disprove those concepts, as it digs into the long and enduring history of racism in the US – anti-Black racism, that is. At no point does Are do much to investigate bigotry aimed at other races or cultures.
While I find that choice to act as a minor disappointment, I get it. As a Black man, Robinson connects to those experiences most naturally, so it makes sense that he concentrates on that domain.
Given the long history of anti-Black racism in the US, Robinson unfortunately enjoys a lot of subject matter he can discuss, and he does his best to get into a mix of important domains. However, Are pursues these topics in a manner that doesn’t always leave it as the most coherent of thematic narratives.
Are tends to skip about topics in a not especially clear manner at times. For instance, the film goes from thoughts about MLK to an interview subject’s defense of the Confederate flag to a take on current police abuses to notes about the treatment of slaves.
I couldn’t help but wish that Are approached the material in a more chronological manner. While some of Robinson’s leaps from era to era make sense in terms of themes, much of the time these jumps don’t really feel natural.
That said, Robinson does present a lot of powerful material, and he effectively rebukes the anti-CRT notions that imply no one needs to teach this content any more. In addition, Are doesn’t become a relentless downer, as Robinson does acknowledge the progress seen in the US.
After all, I’m plenty old enough to remember when the thought of a Black president sounded like fantasy, an event that might happen decades from now but not in my lifetime. Whatever racial sins continue to persist in the US, the leap from Blacks forced to sit at the backs of buses to a Black man as the leader of the free world in basically half a century seems pretty remarkable.
But as the political era that followed President Obama indicates, this step up came with a knee-jerk step back, and Are reminds us not to get too smug about our thoughts of a “post-racial society”. President Obama’s election was a remarkable moment of progress, but we continue to find too much evidence that rampant racism continues to exist in the US – and that many want to go back to the years in which whites dominated without challenge.
At times, Are makes these points well, but again, it tends to seem a bit scattershot. The movie lacks tonal and thematic consistency, so its leaps can become a distraction.
Are does coalesce better as it progresses, though, so its second half works better than the first. The documentary also fares best when it digs into personal stories more than just the basic recitation of facts.
Perhaps the film’s most moving moments come when Robinson discusses his Memphis childhood in the 1960s and the issues his family endured as they moved into a white neighborhood. Robinson effectively conveys the personal pain he suffered, and these elements give us the first-person emotional impact we need.
Rather than just focus on the negative, though, Robinson ensures a hopeful message when he reunites with a white childhood friend and that guy’s father. Both helped the Robinson family cope with the racism and ultimately thrive, so this get together offers a rich episode.
Robinson also uses this context to refute the ignorant arguments that because some Blacks can overcome the institutional disadvantages armed against them, all Blacks should be able to do so. Robinson points out all the elements of luck and all the various pieces that needed to come together just right for him to succeed.
Robinson makes it clear that if even one or two of these benefits collapsed, his life would’ve turned out very differently. This is where he makes it clear that “white privilege” doesn’t mean whites get success handed to them, but instead, that whites simply lack the basic factors pitted against them.
Ultimately, I can’t call Who We Are a great documentary, as it lacks the coherence it needs to achieve all of its goals. Nonetheless, it comes with more than enough information and power to make it a worthwhile program.
