The Spook Who Sat by the Door

Reviewed by Pat O’Connell 

 

Pat O’Connell currently works as an Analyst for the Department of Treasury. He is the author of a book called Knight Hawk, and several magazine articles. He has served as the president of the Maryland Writers Association from 2000 to 2003.

“Get that damn movie out of the theaters and have all copies destroyed!  This movie will cause a race war.”  Richard M. Nixon (perhaps).

Okay, maybe Nixon didn’t say this, but who else had the authority to direct the FBI to make sure this film was removed from all theaters? And why was a copy of this movie impossible to get prior to its release as a DVD in 2004?

“The Spook Who Sat by the Door” is a 1973 film based on the 1969 novel of the same name by Sam Greenlee.  Dan Freeman, the film’s protagonist, is an intelligent and well-educated black man recruited by the CIA as its first black officer. The agency teaches Freeman guerilla warfare techniques, how to use weapons, how to make bombs, and how to disrupt communities and cause social havoc.

But instead of using Freeman as an agent, the CIA puts him in charge of the photocopy room as “Reproduction Section Chief.”  After five years as a glorified copy boy, Freeman resigns to start a career as a social worker in Chicago.  But unbeknownst to the CIA, Freeman uses his CIA training and turns it against the agency¾and also against the white-controlled society of the ʼ60s and ʼ70s¾by recruiting frustrated angry black youths and training them to become freedom fighters. 

If you were around in 1973, think back to the times: the previous decade included the assassination of black leaders Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., a massive urban uprising in Watts, California, and the launch of the Black Panther Party. Black Power was a rallying cry and racial integration was a fledgling concept in many parts of the country.

Although this movie is not particularly well made, it has a powerful message and is hard to judge.  It is passionate and racially charged—promoting violence to solve problems of social inequality.   

On one hand, I can see why the movie was banned. Perhaps allowing it to be viewed would have ignited race riots along the lines of Watts, a six-day melee in 1965 that resulted in 34 deaths and 1,032 injuries. On the other hand, the movie is worth seeing because of its perspective on oppression, social inequity, violence, and freedom.

The film feels dated—with references to “negroes” and “whitey” and characters in fitted jackets, wide lapels, big hair, and the long sideburns of the 1970s—fashions popularized in the hit movie “Shaft” released two years earlier. The vintage nature of “The Spook” lessens its threatening edge; at times, it even seems quaint. (By the way, its soundtrack was composed by the great jazz/funk artist Herbie Hancock. And the film’s director, Ivan Dixon, starred in the 1960’s sitcom Hogan’s Heroes as staff sergeant Kinch, the communications specialist.)

But I digress—and I don’t want to trivialize the serious issues the film highlights. Trying to solve social problems through violence and ethnic cleansing is still going strong in the world today.  

So, what do you think?  Is our nation ready to watch and discuss this movie?

Of Hearts and Hope: Three Perspectives on American Youth

By Vicki Meade

Young Hearts and Minds, a program of three short documentaries which was shown at the Annapolis Film Festival, is all about hope. 

The actual subject matter involves blind teenagers, funerals for the homeless, and potential high-school dropouts. But the real-life stories—not always pretty, sometimes heart-wrenching—left me feeling great about our young people.

“The Potter’s Field” by Edward Heavrin and Nick Weis (42 minutes) chronicles high school students in Louisville, Kentucky, who volunteer to give burial services for homeless and indigent members of their community. As a point of contrast, the film also describes how two of the nation's largest cities, Chicago and New York, dispose of their deceased poor.

Early on we see pine caskets stacked in a U-Haul, men in overalls transferring boxes into a mass grave—no mourners anywhere.  A teacher gets the idea to recruit students as volunteers—boys in blazers and ties, girls in plaid skirts and white sneakers—who serve as pall bearers, say quiet prayers, and sing “Amazing Grace” for people they’ve never met. “How could I live a life and end up having no one?” one boy wonders. “It’s a scary thought.”

The film includes interviews with a homeless ex-sergeant who did tours in Iraq—and now, his speech halting, teeth broken, shoes falling apart, he paces the streets and worries about his future—the personification of unknown people the students help bury. We soak up images of wind-swept cemeteries and yawning dirt holes—and witness tenderness, such as the businessman who finds a homeless man living in his basement and houses him until he dies, and the staffer at Hart Island, where New York’s Potter’s Field is located, who tears up over a letter written long ago by an inmate who helped bury the indigent.

In “Teach Me to Sea” by Mara Bresnahan (39 minutes), a blind teenager says, “There’s something exciting about not knowing what’s coming,”a statement that encapsulates the film’s spirit. Here are two dozen students at the Perkins School for the Blind near Boston planning a senior trip to Cozumel, Mexico—a cruise packed with things they’ve dreamt about, from karaoke and discos to splashing in the sea.

We get to know Ashley, born with shortened limbs and no eyes; Eliza, a healthy child who rode horses, excelled at soccer, and played guitar until a mysterious “brain attack” left her blind and forgetful; Travis, who gradually lost his vision starting at age 6 months. Their fears are the same as anyone’s taking a cruise for the first time—sea sickness, sharks, what if the ship hits some rocks? But they bubble with joy, acting like teenagers everywhere.

We see them petting a baby shark, riding in a pedicab, kayaking, swimming, playing bingo, singing, dancing, laughing. “People with disabilities can party!” one student exclaims.  I imagine these kids made the cruise more fun for everyone on that boat. Fast-forward to prom, then graduation—with Ashley, whose legs are malformed and half the normal length, as valedictorian. “You couldn’t create such an unusual combination of people if you tried,” she says proudly of her classmates. She’s heading to college to study counseling—and when her mom says, “Ashley will do great things,” I believe her.

“Doing It for Me,” by Precious Lambert and Leah Edwards (25 minutes), explores the dropout crisis in Washington, D.C., from a young person’s point of view. Egged on by one girlfriend, two others work toward high school graduation—and as I watched, I was swept back to my year as a writer with the D.C. Public Schools—with a student body that is 70% African American and overwhelmingly low income (three quarters qualify for free lunch).  Once, a guidance counselor at a grade school in the poorest corner of the city told me his biggest challenge was kids with no hope. “Some can’t envision a future,” he said. “They can’t imagine being anything when they grow up.”

These girls fight inertia and decide to continue their education—each in different ways, such as Job Corps—but all resulting in a diploma. And their excitement about ambitions they plan to pursue—college, nursing—is sharpened by having come so close to missing out.  

Annapolis-based freelancer Vicki Meade has 25 years’ experience in communications for health care, business, and technology. She has written for many magazines and websites and is an adjunct instructor of writing at the University of Maryland Baltimore County.