RIOTUS

“Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.”
–George Orwell

I love a good tall tale. No matter where you’re from, what the language, dialect or accent, if you can tell a good story, the audience will make itself available. Now, the good people of Natchez, Mississippi, they’re a town of storytellers who go all out. They get dolled up in hoop skirts and updos, riding pants and cravats, they dust off great-grandma’s bone china and serve their mammy’s special brewed sweet tea. They open their doors, invite you in, and weave yarns about the grand old South. But, as the old folks say, there’s three sides to every story—your side, their side and the truth. And let’s just say that Suzannah Herbert‘s feature documentary, Natchez, exposes the town’s great distance from the collective truth.

An undeniably gorgeous film, the doc opens on stately antebellum mansions in all of their glory, reveling in the homeowners’ dazzling veneer of true blue blood southern hospitality and welcoming viewers in. The same as they would a visitor to one of their Garden Society tours, Natchez, being a tourist town, isn’t just inviting guests in for tea because they enjoy a good gathering, this is their livelihood. Putting on a good show is key to keeping the money flowing. In past years, visitors rushed into the picturesque town to bask in this romanticized version of the old south where genteel ladies were revered and the gentlemen protected their honor. Today, not so much. As a result, tourism dollars are drying up. And this is where Natchez, MS meets Natchez, the movie.

Natchez is masterful work. It’s all about the layers. You think you know something and then another layer is peeled back and more is revealed—slowly and methodically. Let’s take the first 20 minutes or so where the fully idealized version of Natchez is revealed. Charming homeowners open their homes for grand tours of proud estates on the oldest settlement on the Mississippi River. For me as a Black woman, this beauty clashed with the knowledge that Mississippi was the last place an enslaved ancestor would have ever wanted to be, and the soft stories of ‘servants’ and ‘builders’ twisted in a tight knot in my stomach. But then we’re introduced to Rev and suddenly the story takes a turn.

Rev’s Tours take us through these same streets of Natchez but revealing the opposite side of the story—one that does not embrace the ‘Lost Cause’ narrative¹ that the town has so easily adopted. And now the reckoning begins! We learn about the slave markets², the march from the Mississippi³, and how this southern “paradise” was built on the blood and sweat of stolen people.

With the introduction of each new personality, there’s something new to be learned about the community. The film’s unhurried pacing allows us to sit with them and the discomfort of growth and change, especially in contrast to those among them who want to maintain the status quo. We meet Deborah Cosey, the only Black woman in the Garden Society and she speaks of the enslaved people who lived in their homes. How that goes over with the other homeowners, well, bless their hearts (it ain’t great)! Suddenly, a state I’ve never cared to visit (even though one of my best friends of 30 years resides there), is now at the top of my list for domestic trips. Between Rev and Tracey and the Natchez National Park Rangers, I’m down for the road trip. In the meanwhile, I’m down for this doc, which is now touring the country. And you should see it too. Tell a friend, tell a neighbor, now is the time for the telling of truths.

1. *The Lost Cause narrative began with Robert E. Lee’s declaration that the Confederacy did not lose, they were simply overrun by the North. Romanticised stories were told by wives and daughters who wanted markers and honors for the graves of their dead Confederates. This Lost Cause was further proliferated by the next generation of children of these wives and daughters (The Daughters of the Confederate Revolution) who claimed the cause of the Civil War was States’ Rights, and not slavery. They felt as though they were robbed of their birthright as gentille Southern ladies to be waited on hand and foot by servants. ↩︎
2. In 1832, the fear of a cholera epidemic caused municipal officials to force human traffickers outside the Natchez city limits. Traders set up business at the Forks of the Road, the second busiest slave trading market in the Deep South. ↩︎
3. Tens of thousands of enslaved men, women and children were transported from Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky, and the Carolinas to the market at Natchez. The slave market operated from 1833 until the arrival of Federal troops on July 13, 1863. ↩︎