The Black Power Mixtape 1967–1975, a flawed but fascinating new documentary, uses a Swedish lens to examine the period of American history when black anger was channeled into a more confrontational mode of civil rights activism. The images are taken entirely from archival footage, most of it shot by a variety of Swedish film crews during the time span indicated in the title, and have been augmented with newly recorded voiceovers by participants in the events of that tumultuous era (Angela Davis, Harry Belafonte) and their cultural inheritors (Questlove, Erykah Badu). The unusual perspective yields many illuminating moments, but the material could have been assembled into something more coherent.
The film’s greatest advantage is the fresh outlook it provides on issues — racism, militant protest, drugs — that carry tremendous baggage for Americans of all colors. The subjects, from well-known public figures to people interviewed on the street, speak with greater frankness to the Swedes than they might have to American filmmakers. An imprisoned Angela Davis, her passion and eloquence undimmed by her obvious exhaustion, talks at length about her early life. Eldridge Cleaver hosts a tour of his exilic headquarters in Algiers. Sage old Lewis H. Michaux holds court in his Harlem bookshop. And Stokely Carmichael is shown giving a couple of fervent speeches, then relaxing behind the scenes with friends and interviewing his mother, coaxing her step by step into admitting that his family’s economic difficulties were a result of racial discrimination. It is here that the film begins to double back on itself, as Talib Kweli discusses the impact of seeing the private Carmichael. The moment is illuminating but disorienting, a bit like a snippet of a DVD audio commentary finding its way on to a film’s primary soundtrack. There are similar moments later, like when the editor of TV Guide attempts to justify his criticism of Swedish TV for distorting America’s problems.
Reportedly, the footage had not been seen in more than 30 years, if at all, until director Göran Hugo Olsson discovered it in the archives of a Swedish television station. Instead of parceling out the material through a series of themed episodes, Olsson has attempted a comprehensive, overly ambitious single feature. His “mixtape” conceit fails to register and is a poor substitute for a coherent structure. Although the film is arranged chronologically, it lacks flow, at times losing the thread of the Black Power movement altogether. That’s not to say these digressions aren’t worthwhile — for example, one long interview features a Harlem girl speaking, with heartbreaking candor, about turning to prostitution to support her heroin addiction. But such moments might have fit more smoothly into the structure of a TV series, which would have divided the material into shorter, more tightly focused segments while providing the opportunity to use more of it overall (Olsson claims he had to leave out a lot of great stuff). We’re left craving more in-depth explorations of the many facets of this rich story: the development of the Black Panthers, the flooding of America’s ghettos with narcotics, the prison riot at Attica. Jumbled together, with little followup of any given topic, these stories lack the context that would make their relationships apparent, resulting in an experience that offers too much to absorb in one viewing.
But perhaps a different format wasn’t logistically possible. As it stands, The Black Power Mixtape is a treasure trove of remarkable material, direct from a volatile period in American history. It provides much to consider regarding the Black Power movement and how its successes and failures have shaped the racial realities of life in America today.
