“Ghosts of Mississippi” Showcases The Fight Against Racial Injustice
With my dad, “movie nights” as a kid was a big deal. Between him, my two sisters and I, we rotated weeks where each of us had to pick a movie to watch. Popcorn was made. Drinks were bought. It was as big of an event as the Oscars. Of course, everyone had their preference of genre. My sisters enjoyed comedies; my dad and I were drama fans. I tended toward movies with a historical backdrop — either a period piece or one of film’s greatest.
One week I chose a film with a horror sounding title: Ghosts of Mississippi.
As usual with my choices, my sisters disapproved. My dad read the back of the DVD, which explained the film was about Medgar Evers.
“Who is that?” one of my sisters asked.
“Lets watch and found out,” he said with a grin. My sisters approved. (Thanks, Dad).
With all our fixings, the four of us watched, and, by the end, my dad and I were transfixed on this film’s story. From the start, the film reached out and grabbed us. It shook us. It informed us about a heartbreaking historical event, the consequences of said event and the power of good against evil. It opened my eyes to some sort of greater good, whatever you may want to call it, that was at work in our lives every day.
Ghosts of Mississippi depicts the horrid cruelty of an injustice, yet mixing in a story about people who do whatever it takes to fight that wrong. I’ll say it now: it is a damn good movie.
The film stars Alec Baldwin, James Woods and Whoopi Goldberg. It tells the tale of Bobby DeLaughter (Baldwin), an assistant District Attorney, who comes across a way to re-try Byron De La Beckwith (Woods) — a former member of the Ku Klux Klan. In the early 1960s, he was tried twice before for assassinating Civil Rights leader Medgar Evers. As DeLaughter and his team build a case, they deal with Mississippi’s dark racial past, not enough evidence and Evers’ reluctant widow Myrlie Evers(Goldberg). The film was also directed by Rob Reiner (A Few Good Men and Stand by Me).
The film opens with one of the most emotional title card sequences I have ever seen. A mix of footage and images showing the United States’ history of segregation is seen, as the song “I Wish I Knew How To Be Free” sung by the amazing Dionne Farris boldly plays. It is the perfect tune in the perfect arrangement for this opening. But, then you see Jessie Ownes and Jackie Robinson conquering the world of segregation. There’s footage of African-Americans fighting in World War II, churchgoers signing and the many protests of the 50s and 60s. The montage signifies the horrific nature African-Americans were treated early in this country’s history. Yet, the montage signifies a progression and hope toward a unity — though it might not be the easiest road to take.
From this montage, the theme of the film is set: the fight against the injustice of the African-American experience in the United States, especially in the South where Mississippi played a huge part in that injustice. The film opens with Evers’ death — gunned down from behind as he pulls into his home. We see Beckwith, holding the rifle and shooting Evers. We know he escapes from any legal action, as a result of two hung juries.
Then, we speed to 1989. This is a far different world than the early 1960s. Progress in society has occurred, but the past always comes back in one way or another. In Mississippi, there is a unwillingness to discuss the state’s brutal history. The status quo does not dare be shifted. The movie does an incredibly job of taking you to this time in our history — one that is quite recent — and to a community where its history books skips a few chapters. However, Evers’ wife still believes there is enough to convict Beckwith. When her lawyer and she meets with DeLaughter and the DA, they both realize that the evidence is gone.
“In 1964, you had a mountain of evidence!” her lawyer exclaims.
Handing her a small folder, the DA (played by Craig T. Nelson) says, “Well, the mountain has crumbled.”
This is a perfect example showcasing Mississippi’s — and the country’s — way of dealing with this history: “Well, maybe, you’re right. However, the proof’s gone.” It is an astonishing place to be: injustice follows up with more injustice. DeLaughter sees her pleas and decides to dig deep.
Baldwin and Goldberg are terrific. Baldwin is at his dramatic best, as he pieces together the little evidence he has. While everyone else is stuck in 1963, his mind is on the future. He wants to right a wrong he, personally, has no obligation to do. (His job says otherwise, of course). Goldberg plays smart, grounded widow. She has been down this road before: “We’ll help”, but help never comes. Watching the two grow in trusting each other and become a strong team for Medgar Evers and what he stood for is an absolute treat — especially from two great performers.
The real star is James Woods as Beckwith. The man is so egotistical and full of himself, it is disgusting to watch. Yet, that is why we, as viewer, are fascinated. This man is so repulsive, we sit and wonder how can anyone get this low. But that is how some people, sadly, are and we come to terms with that horror. Beckwith has no reason to be afraid. He has been found not guilty multiple times for this crime. Woods plays this notion of sly, yet the ugliest side of humanity incredibly well. He was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for this role.
The great clash of these three characters is a treat to watch: Woods and the status quo vs DeLaughter and Evers as a progressive mindset for the country’s future. The plot is very “run of the mill” court drama, but the dynamic of these three characters and their meaning toward a bigger picture is what elevates this film beyond the other courtroom dramas. Watching how DeLaughter and his team piece together a case is fun, but meaningful because we are so invested in these characters and the ideas they represent.
This film is incredibly important. In a world where injustice against communities occur daily, this is a reminder that there are those willing to sacrifice a lot for possible racial unity and because some people are just being human. We are here to survive and grow as a race, and people like Beckwith do the exact opposite.
Thankfully, Bobby DeLaughter stepped in to right a very horrible wrong. And, thankfully, Ghosts of Mississippi is there to tell his tale. Rent it. Buy it. Borrow it. Do whatever it takes to see this film.
When DeLaughter and Myrlie Evers first meet, DeLaughter shuts down hope of re-trying Beckwith. Evers comes to terms and heads for the elevator, but DeLaughter stops her. He tells her maybe it is time to move on from this case.
She responds, “Let it go? I can understand why you think that. For years, I said the same thing to Medgar. ‘Let it go. Let’s get out of Mississippi. Do you know what he said to me? ‘I don’t know whether I’m going to heaven or to hell, but I’m going from Jackson.’”
That quote — the willingness to do whatever it takes to take on evil head on — has stuck with me ever since.
