Hallelujah Film 1929 dir. King Vidor

This is a gem, for tonight’s viewing with blog by Rob Burns. Enjoy.

The first all Black cast in a Hollywood sound drama musical

Hallelujah was King Vidor’s first sound film, and combined sound recorded on location and sound recorded post-production in Hollywood. It was the first all Black cast drama-musical and of such importance it  is conserved in the USA National Film Registery by the Library of Congress as being of ‘Cultural, Historical or aesthetically significant’. King Vidor was nominated for a Best Director Oscar for the film.

King Vidor brings you in his startling vision of the soul of the coloured race.

Hallelujah (1929) was shot in Tennessee and Arkansas, far from the prying eyes of studio executives and the interference of newly venerated sound engineers. Thus, Vidor was relatively free to experiment with what was essentially a new medium. (Judging by the limitations of the next several films Vidor made back home at M-G-M, it is most likely that much of the adventuresome quality of Hallelujah would have been lost if it was made under the nose of Irving Thalberg.)

To watch Hallelujah either go to Heritage House Arts & Civic Centre West and watch on Facebook and if you prefer go to:

Free Great Movies. There’s about 10 minutes of requests to donate. Then the presenter gives a 15 minute talk about King Vidor. It’s helpful as the film certainly contains racial stereotypes and has to be watched with that in mind. The film starts at about 26 minutes.

Visually, it is as striking as any of Vidor’s silent films. Since many sequences were shot silent with sound added afterward, the director was able to retain the fluidity of camera movement so evident in The Crowd. Vidor’s lovely soft-focus images of life in the cotton fields, his spectacular staging of a mass baptism, and the brilliant Expressionism of the church meeting and the climactic chase through the swamp are unparalleled in the early sound film. His imaginative use of sound, ranging from off-screen voices to moving musical numbers, is equally unique. It could be argued that Hallelujah is, in its way, as important to the development of talkies as The Birth of a Nation was to the silent film fifteen years earlier. Unfortunately, the parallel between the two films doesn’t stop there.

Vidor, an unabashed Texan, carried much of the baggage of a Southern upbringing. On one level, Hallelujah clearly reinforces the stereotypes of Blacks as childishly simple, lecherously promiscuous, fanatically superstitious, and shiftless. This was, of course, not unusual in American films; even the great Paul Robeson had to shuffle a bit in James Whale’s Showboat (1936). Chick, the mulatto temptress (or “yellow hussy,” as Zeke’s mother calls her) reappears as the Lena Horne character in Vincente Minnelli’s “sophisticated” Cabin in the Sky (1943). Certainly, Vidor could never be accused of the overt racial venom exhibited by Griffith in The Birth of a Nation. Yet the benefit of the doubt one might give to Hallelujah is partially negated by his So Red the Rose (1935).

The director himself links the two films by opening So Red the Rose with cotton-field footage of the Johnson family from Hallelujah. Daniel Haynes (Zeke) reappears as a loyal slave who puts down a slave rebellion following the Emancipation Proclamation. He converts the Blacks back into the happy singers they were before they became “uppity” and began to think of themselves as men rather than chattel.

Is there, then, a defense for Hallelujah beyond its aesthetic importance? I think there is, and I think it lies in Vidor’s personality as we know it from his films. (Full disclosure: I found Vidor modest and utterly charming in the few hours I was privileged to spend with him in 1972.) Certainly, for a white man to make such a film now would require a great deal of chutzpah. For King Vidor, however, in 1929, there may be grounds for understanding, if not approval.

He did grow up in the South and did, indeed, have preconceptions about Blacks. These he tried to render lovingly in dramatic form in what he sincerely deemed to be an honest and affectionate film. Given his naivet&eacute, his lack of malice, and his trust in his own fairness—and given his almost mystical fervor—Hallelujah can and should be accepted as the remarkable achievement it is. Perhaps we can best gauge Vidor’s purity of intent through the words of Zeke’s song:

“I can’t go wrong, I must go right/I’ll find my way ‘cause a guiding light/will be shining at the end of the road.”


REALISTIC! EARTHY!…it pictures in dialogue and heart-stirring song the reckless love and the gripping drama of the Southern Negro…come to the dusky cabarets….the revivals and the baptisms.

In a juke joint, sharecropper Zeke falls for a beautiful dancer, Chick, but she’s only setting him up for a rigged craps game. He loses $100, the money he got for the sale of his family’s entire cotton crop. His brother Spunk is mortally wounded in the shoot-out which follows. Zeke goes away but returns as Brother Zekiel the preacher. His forceful preaching draws the faithful in large numbers. Even Chick wants to be saved. Zekiel has asked the pretty Missy Rose to marry him, but Chick can still cast a spell over the preacher…

Daniel L. HaynesZeke
Nina Mae McKinneyChick
William FountaineHot Shot
Harry GrayParson
Fanny Belle DeKnightMammy
Everett McGarritySpunk
Victoria SpiveyMissy Rose
Milton Dickerson
Robert Couch
Walter TaitJohnson Kid
Dixie Jubilee Singers

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