What if a single cocktail party could encapsulate the essence of a cultural revolution? That’s the question at the heart of Once Upon a Time in Harlem, a documentary that’s finally seeing the light of day—over 50 years after its inception. Personally, I find this delay both tragic and profoundly symbolic. It’s tragic because it reflects the systemic neglect of Black narratives in cinema, but it’s symbolic because it underscores the resilience of those very narratives. William Greaves, the visionary behind this project, understood something critical: unless Black people control their own stories, those stories will always be distorted. And here we are, decades later, still grappling with that truth.
A Party That Transcends Time
The documentary centers on a 1972 gathering at Duke Ellington’s townhouse, where surviving luminaries of the Harlem Renaissance convened. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Greaves approached the filming. He didn’t impose a rigid structure; instead, he let the conversations flow naturally. The result? A raw, unfiltered glimpse into the minds of artists, writers, and thinkers who reshaped Black American culture. One thing that immediately stands out is the film’s looseness—its refusal to conform to traditional documentary tropes. It’s not about neatly packaged narratives; it’s about the messiness of memory, debate, and identity.
The Language of Identity
A detail that I find especially interesting is the debate over terminology. In one scene, the guests argue whether to abandon the term ‘Negro’ in favor of ‘Afro-American.’ If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just a semantic debate—it’s a struggle for self-definition. What this really suggests is that the fight for language is inseparable from the fight for identity. And here’s the kicker: this conversation feels eerily relevant today. We’re still grappling with labels like ‘Black,’ ‘African American,’ and ‘people of color.’ Greaves’ film isn’t just a historical artifact; it’s a mirror to our own unresolved questions.
The Weight of History, the Urgency of Now
David Greaves, who helped bring his father’s vision to life, points out something striking: the footage of Haile Selassie’s 1936 appeal to the League of Nations. What many people don’t realize is how this moment resonates with contemporary geopolitics. Selassie’s plea for international support after Italy’s invasion of Ethiopia echoes Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s appeals during Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. The parallels are uncanny, but they also highlight a grim reality: the global community’s selective empathy. Selassie was ignored; Zelenskyy was not. This raises a deeper question: whose suffering gets recognized, and why?
Racial Violence: Not as Distant as We Think
One of the most bracing moments in the film is the footage accompanying the anti-lynching poem The Lynching. David Greaves notes that the young white girl watching with ‘fiendish glee’ would have been roughly the same age as his father. Her grandchild would be the same age as his daughter. All three generations vote. This isn’t ancient history—it’s living memory. From my perspective, this is a stark reminder that America’s racial wounds are far from healed. The film doesn’t just document the past; it forces us to confront how little has changed.
A Battle for Memory
The timing of the film’s release couldn’t be more poignant. In the U.S., Black history is under attack—literally. Politicians are erasing Black narratives from school curricula, dismantling race-focused programming, and even removing signage from historical sites. In my opinion, this is more than political theater; it’s a deliberate attempt to rewrite history. What this film does, however, is reclaim that history. It shows us giants—intellectuals, artists, and activists—whose stories were nearly lost to time. It’s a powerful act of resistance.
A Legacy Resurrected
What makes Once Upon a Time in Harlem truly remarkable is its journey to completion. William Greaves never finished it; his widow Louise worked on it until her death in 2023; and finally, David and Liani Greaves brought it across the finish line. In the process, David discovered a deeper understanding of his father. He found notes on eastern philosophy that shed light on William’s thoughts on pain, suffering, and consciousness. ‘He was a much heavier dude than I had realized,’ David said, laughing. This, to me, is the beauty of the film—it’s not just about the Harlem Renaissance; it’s about the Greaves family’s own journey of discovery.
Why This Matters
In a world where Black stories are still marginalized, Once Upon a Time in Harlem is more than a documentary—it’s a manifesto. It reminds us that history isn’t static; it’s a living, breathing entity that demands our attention. Personally, I think this film should be required viewing for anyone who claims to care about racial justice. It’s not just a chronicle of the past; it’s a call to action for the present. As David Greaves puts it, the film should cement his father’s legacy as a chronicler of African American history. But more than that, it should challenge us to ask: whose stories are we still ignoring? And what will it take to finally listen?
