Ken Burns' Unforgivable Blackness

I saw the first part of Ken Burns' new documentary Unforgivable Blackness last night. It's the story of Jack Johnson, the first black heavyweight boxing champion. I am no boxing fan and had never heard of Jack Johnson before this, but the film was totally fascinating, further cementing Burns' reputation for documentary film making. More than just the story of a man and boxer, it is a portrait of race relations in the United States circa first decade of the 20th century, and is a reminder of just how far we've come.

The story, at least that of the first part of the film, is fairly straightforward. Jack Johnson was the son of two former slaves raised in the Jim Crow south. As Bert Sugar pointed out, boxing is one of those avenues always available to those on the lowest rungs of the socio-economic ladder. Johnson, being gifted with strength and athleticism, gravitated toward boxing which at times could mean partaking in the "battle royal", where six or so black men would be blindfolded and put in a ring to pummel each other for the amusement of drunken white men. Beyond his raw strength, Johnson develops a technique to his fighting, in contrast to the brawling style popular among both white and black fighters of the day. He continues winning fights and larger purses all across the country, but is continually denied a shot at the title because he is black. In the perverse logic of white supremacy, the best white fighter would always be superior to the best black fighter, so the white champion would never give the black contender a shot because there was too much risk of losing.

Eventually, a white champion, Tommy Burns, puts a high price on a fight which is met by an Australian promoter and Johnson gets his shot, and totally destroys Burns. The fight was being filmed for distribution, and the police stopped the filming just before the final knockout so the spectacle of a black man knocking out a white fighter would not be shown. This sets off outrage in the white community, giving rise to a series of increasingly desperate "great white hopes," none of whom are a match for Johnson. Eventually, a respected former champion is dragged out of retirement as the true "great white hope" to challenge Johnson, but he too is no match.

Burns does a good job infusing humor into the story. For example, in recounting the bout with Burns, he includes Tommy's brag that he would "beat that n&*#^* or my name ain't Tommy Burns." The irony is that his name wasn't Tommy Burns; that was just a stage name. Then there's the story of Johnson fighting the middleweight champion, who was white and a friend of Johnson's. The promise was that the smaller fighter wouldn't try to win, and the fight goes on entertainingly and in a friendly manner, but at one point he unleashed a hard right to Johnson, knocking him down for a moment. Well, even I know better than to tick off a heavyweight champion, and with the next punch Johnson knocks the guy senseless.

Race is a constant issue in the film, and Burns does a good job showing it from all angles. Johnson was savaged by whites, because he was a threat to their view of the world. To modern eyes, what was printed in respectable newspapers is quite shocking, from cartoons featuring monkeys taking over to racial slurs in headlines. But the black community also criticized him, because he was attracted to white women, and they were attracted to him.

But it is in the climax of the first part of the film that race is at its most bizarre. Imagine this scenario. A former champion boxer, undefeated in the ring but retired to a farm for six years where he has gained over 100 pounds, is dragged out of retirement to face the reigning champion who has destroyed all comers. Even a non-fan like myself would recognize the chances of the retired guy winning are pretty darned small. Yet that is the scenario at the end. Jim Jeffries was the "great white hope", the undefeated champion at the turn of the century, whom even Johnson would later call the greatest champion. But he had been retired to his farm for six years before being dragged out to fight Johnson. Any rational observer would have picked Johnson by a mile, yet Jeffries was a 10:4 favorite. The blindness of people whose fundamental beliefs are being challenged is truly amazing. In the end, it wasn't even a contest.

The voice acting in the film is superb, with Samuel L. Jackson voicing Johnson with a presence and attitude that only Jackson can bring. Overall the film is another remarkable achievement by Ken Burns, and is highly recommended to all viewers, even those who care nothing about boxing.