Boomer parents, whose selective memories belie their own youthful history of sneaking
into movies like Faster Pussycat! Kill! Kill! now cry out as one for benign, traditional
children's films without all the violence, sexual innuendo, and profanity they now
find so troubling. Well, crank the Windstar and drag the young 'uns away from Duke
Nukem 3D: The Education of Little Tree is just what you've been looking for. Based
on the bestselling novel by Forrest Carter, Little Tree's story occurs in the Tennessee
mountains during the early years of the Depression. Little Tree (Ashton) is a half-Cherokee
orphan who's been adopted by his grandparents (Cardinal and Cromwell). The elderly
couple - he's a Scotch-Irish moonshiner and she's a full-blooded Cherokee - teach
him how to make his way in a white-dominated society without sacrificing his Native
American heritage. This bi-ethnic household represents something of an ideal for
cultural integration, but the story unflinchingly portrays the suspicion, misunderstanding,
and outright hatred the youngster must face in the outside world. Schools give him
a "white" name. Townspeople are selective at best in their social acceptance.
And stories of atrocities such as the Trail of Tears, told by a Cherokee neighbor
(Greene) reveal the truth that his racial identity is as much a burden as a gift.
Yet Little Tree is not just an obligatory shot of white collective guilt to be endured
in the name of multicultural conciliation. The interaction between Little Tree and
his grandparents is hearty, humorous and quite affecting. Both Cromwell (Babe, L.A.
Confidential) and Ashton seem blessed with about 20 percent more vital force than
most of us, and the delight the boy shows in learning woodland lore and the family
trade (even moonshining seems wholesome in this context) is "family values"
in its purest form, sans Christian Right connotations. Wrapped in a package of lush,
luminous beauty courtesy of Anastos Michos' masterful cinematography, and blessed
with a fine yin-yang balance of sentiment and realism, this is a solid, engaging
piece of filmmaking craft by director Friedenberg, who's best known for adapting
Norman Maclean's A River Runs Through It for the screen. One note of possible - and
certainly ironic - interest: Forrest Carter was the pen name for Asa Carter, a prominent
white supremacist who wrote speeches for George Wallace in the early Sixties. Some
reports have it that Carter's racist views moderated over time. Others ascribe the
more enlightened tone of his later work to financial expediency or the odd affection
even the most intractable bigots sometimes reserve for Injuns. (Perhaps they make
exceptions for minorities that run cheap casinos and refrain from making gangsta
rap music.) In any event, it seems only fair to grant Carter the same courtesy we
have other politically extreme artists (John Milius and Ezra Pound, to name two random
examples) and judge his work by its laudable overt content, not his unsavory personal
ideology.
3.0 stars
--Russell Smith
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