'Nothing But a Man' is not your average 'black' movie

Fifty years ago a remarkable independent film called Nothing But a Man was released in only a few theaters. It didn't really do much business but it made a strong impression on those who saw it, including Malcolm X, who reportedly considered it his favorite film.

The movie stands out because at the time it was made the country was living through the peak of the Civil Rights Movement and yet the Hollywood movies of the era barely made an effort to reflect the real lives of African-Americans.

We were either non-existent, buffoons used for comic relief, or we were the subject of overwrought if albeit well-intentioned liberal screeds.

Nothing But a Man is a film very much in the same vein as Fruitvale Station. It's acting is subtle and realistic, the story is largely quiet and smaller scaled, and yet it has the same emotional heft of far more "epic" films.

The fact that it was written and directed by a white man is impressive considering how authentic the movie, looks sounds and feels.

The movie doesn't feature a flawless Sidney Poitier-like saint, instead we get the understated Ivan Dixon, who plays Duff Anderson, a blue collar man who is just a little too proud to endure the indignities his black peers absorb from white men. His stubborn insistence on being treated with respect costs him jobs and puts him in potential danger.

Nothing But a Man

The film also captures a romance between Duff and the shy but sensual Josie, played by singer Abbey Lincoln, a school teacher with stern, religious parents who don't approve of Duff on sight. Their relationship is sketched out beautifully in some sparse but evocative scenes set to, on occasion, a Motown beat.

The couple marry and seem happy but the threat of racial violence is omnipresent in their lives. They are based in the South and occasionally the specter of moving North is raised, although Duff implies that he's lived there before and that it's not much better for black folks.

The movie does an incredible job of dramatizing, without ever going over the top, the tension that blacks must have felt during the most basic interactions with some white people. A perceived attitude or shift in tone could bring a harsh condemnation or even the threat of violence.

In these brief scenes a compelling drama becomes sublime. You get a real sense of how impossible life was for an African-American at that time. And yet the movie doesn't become a solemn bore. It's bleak but ultimately full of humanity.

Nothing But a Man was re-released and reassessed in the early '90s by the art film crowd but has still yet to find a wide audience. I was actually surprised to see it didn't make Spike Lee's list of essential films, since his best work has a similar honesty and nuanced portrayal of black life.

Like so many lost classics it's ripe for rediscovery, not just as some sort of black history month curio, but as a vibrant example of what independent cinema does best.