It’s important to recognize the subtle differences in these characterizations because they can make a big difference in how a display is perceived.
Now, let’s address some of the criticisms that have been leveled against Song of the South and acknowledge that while some of them are valid, none of them justify writing this movie off completely.
When I sat down to watch the movie, I was full of nostalgia and anticipation. To my surprise, the movie turned out to be everything I remembered from my childhood and nothing like the negative expectations that had been instilled in me over the years.
I recently bought a copy of Walt Disney’s banned masterpiece Song of the South (1946) on eBay, and the film lived up to my memories and expectations.
I distinctly remember being a completely content and amused six-year-old. At age 57, it happened again last week. What I expected was nowhere to be found due to the ridiculous hype surrounding the film. Are there racial concerns in Song of the South? Yes, but not in a way that makes Disney’s Orwellian erasure acceptable.
Br’er Rabbit, Br’er Fox, Br’er Bear, Br’er Fox, Br’er Rabbit, Br’er Fox, Br’er Bear in a 1956 Song of the South poster, top: James Baskett.
Overall, Song of the South (like its inspiration) aims to close the racial divide in America in racially progressive ways that were unheard of in 1946.
Despite this, Disney has included Song of the South since 1986 – the last year it was released in theaters – due to petty and grossly inaccurate complaints. Additionally, the film was never made available on home video in the United States. not even on Betamax or Laserdisc.
I assure you there is no moral justification for this.
In Song of the South, Bobby Driscoll plays seven-year-old Johnny, who is informed that he will be spending time at his grandmother’s farm in Georgia. But the reality is that his parents have problems. Dad is leaving. As a result, Johnny loses his sense of security and his father.
Johnny knew about Uncle Remus (James Baskett) and his storytelling abilities before he arrived, and meeting the legend did not disappoint.
Uncle Remus uses Parable, a Negro folktale starring Br’er Rabbit (voiced by Johnny Lee in two parts and Baskett in one) to help Johnny solve his many problems. Br’er Fox, Br’er Rabbit’s antagonist, is voiced by Baskett once more, as is Fox’s sidekick Br’er Bear, played by Nick Stewart.
There are a total of three cartoon parables. The first serves as a reminder to Johnny (and us) that you can’t escape your problems. The other, the tarbaby, instructs Johnny to avoid creating his own problems. The third instruction for Johnny is to think with his head rather than his hands (especially when outnumbered).
Song of the South is a fantastic movie that teaches many valuable lessons about life, especially forgiveness and honesty, but there are also many movies these days that deal with much more serious issues of race. The sequences starring Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961), the “Abraham” scene in Holiday Inn (1942), and the Algernon character played by Willie Best in High Sierra (1941) come to mind. All you have to do is shake your head and wait.
However, being a mature, logical adult, I don’t find stereotypes amusing, even those from my own history. My guidelines are simple: if the representation is honest and comes from a decent place, I have no objection to someone of one race playing someone of another. For example, Fred Astaire, a well-known actor, and a white man, honors and commemorates the black pioneer in this way out of pure love.
This is unacceptable.
In The Good Earth (1937), Paul Muni portrayed the Chinese in an excellent way that is far from offensive. Leftist condescension is best exemplified by Katharine Hepburn’s Chinese character in Dragon’s Seed (1944). In High Sierra, Willie Best scares me, but in Ghost Breakers (1940) he takes Bob Hope’s thunder. Small differences in Best’s characteristics have a huge impact.
Let’s take a look at the criticisms of Song of the South, some of which are legitimate, but none of which support this pitiful blacklist.
The picture depicts a cheerful slave farm in the South.
The post-Civil War setting of the story is very evident in the film. Uncle Remus can leave the plantation whenever he likes, it’s announced within 10 minutes. They are not slaves, these black characters. They are both shareholders and employees. Uncle Remus leaves the plantation in broad daylight at the end of the movie (this is not a spoiler).
The characters are stereotypically black. Real.
Black characters speak in an accented “sniff” dialect and are subservient to white characters. Some of the white characters, especially the two boys who harass Johnny, also fit this description. Both characters could have come straight from Lil’ Abner or Ma and Pa Kettle, two beloved films from the same era that, like Song of the South, portrayed white Southerners in a positive light.
Uncle Tom is Remus’ uncle. True, true, true…
Yes, Uncle Remus is obedient to the white characters, but he also 1) treats everyone with dignity and 2) works for them. However, he is not some cunning, thieving Tom. Furthermore, wasn’t this slavery a horrible fact of the Reconstruction era? The same individuals who (falsely) accuse the film of portraying the bad reality of content slaves seem to oppose the factual reality of the horrible social order that emerged in the Democrat-controlled South after the Civil War.
However, the film gives Remus a clear mind and a will of his own within this world.
The term “tarbabies” is an ethnic slur throughout the film. Totally untrue.
I was still hoping that Br’er Fox would disguise the tabby as an over-the-top negro, like in the minstrel play. None of that exists. The use of tar is not racially motivated. No racial traits are attributed to tarbabies. Using the “tarbaby” metaphor may be considered “racially insensitive” in the modern world, but Song of the South has nothing to do with that.
Uncle Remus is a “magical black man” – partially true. Some of this is called into question by the fact that Baskett stars in the film. In addition, Uncle Remus is an authoritative figure and the parent of the white youth he helps; it is not below him. Uncle Remus is more than kind enough for me to finish it. In addition to the complex feelings that come with being falsely accused, she feels and expresses anger, disappointment, and rejection. It is not just a symbol; it’s the whole character.
What you don’t see is just as important. No one uses the word “boy”. No one is addressed as “Masa”. Uncle Remus is treated decently and respected by the whites, even if they don’t agree with him (more on that below). In fact, none of the black characters are treated in a disrespectful or degrading manner. In contrast, the three main black characters, Uncle Remus, Aunt Tempe (played by the amazing Hattie McDaniel), and Toby (Glenn Leedy), all have a warm relationship with their white employers who never stoop to snobbery and treat them like objects.
What Song of the South wants to convey and its theme is more important than the things mentioned above. Anyone who bases their moral judgment on a story on its substance alone is an idiot. The Bible, which is full of examples of human depravity, would rank among the most immoral works ever created if the content were the deciding factor. The content is just the route used to get to the moral (or theme). The end goal is what counts, and that’s where Song of the South takes us.
A black man plays the lead role of Uncle Remus in the 1946 film. In addition, he serves as a father figure to the white youth and serves as the narrative’s moral compass.
How many mainstream movies did they have before Sidney Poitier?
Another thing is this… In Song of the South, Uncle Remus is right and all the white people are wrong.
In two tragic moments, Johnny’s mother Sally (Ruth Warwick) orders Uncle Remus to stay away from her son. As I just said, both moments are handled brilliantly. No one is vilified, although, of course, she has the final say over her child and Uncle Remus accepts that. However, this is not the most important factor.
Importantly, Sally is a white lady who accuses a black man of being wrong for a crime he did not commit. Even later, when she “caught” Uncle Remus disobeying her, she never used a racial slur against him. The audience understands that they are wrong and we feel for Uncle Remus.
It is also important to see how Toby, Johnny’s black teammate, is treated equally. With young Bobby Driscoll sitting next to them, it wasn’t easy, but they are friends and Leedy steals every moment.
The fact that Br’er Rabbit is a bright, witty, and fiercely independent “black” creature who teaches the white child life lessons is equally significant. Br’er Rabbit, Br’er Fox, and Br’er Bear really do speak in exaggerated black accents, even though skinny people (like the Apu freaks) complain that they don’t! But how is that different from any comic book cartoon character of any color? Yosemite Sam, Bugs Bunny, Elmer Fudd, and Foghorn Leghorn… Seriously, they’re all grown up.
Additionally, none of the three guys voicing these “black” roles are white actors; they are all black. This should be significant in 1946.
In this film, a black man assists a white child in coming of age, and racial harmony is achieved through mutual respect.
The real scandal surrounding Song of the South is that the legendary James Baskett, who was the first black actor to win an Oscar, received a well-deserved honorary Oscar for his classic portrayal of Uncle Remus, and that now, Disney’s woke Nazis have removed the show from existence. In addition, Baskett remains the only recipient of the only honorary Oscar in history. Even sadder was that Baskett’s last appearance was in Song of the South. He died a few months after winning the Oscar.
And now no one must witness James Baskett’s victory.
Allie Wrubel and Ray Gilbert, co-writers of the catchy “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah,” which won an Oscar for best song, are the other two Song of the South Oscar winners who have disappeared.
Unfortunately, the situation is getting worse. The characters “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah”, “James Baskett” and “Br’er Rabbit” were all completely removed from Disney theme parks in the wake of the McCarthyite 2020 Antifa/Black Lives Matter Riots.
In fact, we are moving backward.
Song of the South is charming, endearing, and brimming with compassion and empathy that lingers for days. In fact, the worst criticism that can be leveled at the film is that it is old.
There is no justification for blacklisting any kind of work, but removing James Baskett’s deserved place in cinematic history is far more offensive and racially degrading than anything in Song of the South.
Song of the South is a film that, despite its faults and valid criticisms, carries a profound message of racial reconciliation, respect, and the potential for growth. It stars a black man in a prominent role who challenges stereotypes and offers a moral compass to a white kid. Erasing and blacklisting this film does a disservice to its historical significance and the performances of its talented cast, especially James Baskett. We must strive for a more nuanced and inclusive understanding of race and representation in art. It is important to recognize that societal perspectives and sensibilities have evolved over time, and it is essential to approach artworks with a critical lens while appreciating their historical context.