If there were a definitive title for “Best Documentary Film Award Winner” in America, Ken Burns would likely be at the top of that list.
Over the last four decades, he has poured his efforts into depicting the country’s history and culture, with works ranging from “Baseball,” “Jazz,” and “National Parks: America’s Best Idea” to the groundbreaking “Civil War” from 1990. Although he has publicly remarked on various topics, he certainly presents this inclination with a hint of nuance.
Burns’ latest work coincides with the 250th anniversary of America, featuring a six-part series on PBS that delves into the nation’s beginnings.
Anticipation and Unease
“The American Revolution” has launched with fitting fanfare and an incredibly impressive lineup of narrators, including Tom Hanks, Morgan Freeman, Samuel L. Jackson, among others.
However, some conservatives express worries about how this celebration of America’s origins will resonate, especially when even mild appeals to patriotism can lead to harsh debates.
Burns appears to navigate this challenge by adopting a somewhat clinical and less romantic tone in his storytelling. His passion for the American endeavor is evident, yet he stops short of embracing the more mythic or nationalistic elements often associated with it.
Whose Revolution?
“This is the story of our creation,” notes historian Rick Atkinson, emphasizing the revolution’s importance. Yet many experts featured in the series focus less on glorification and more on a critical analysis of the past, calling out the romanticized narratives surrounding the founders.
Instead, the series invites viewers to consider the impacts of slavery, the appropriation of Native American lands, and the violence associated with the revolutionaries.
Although it covers the conflict from 1774 to 1783 meticulously, it also veers off to examine various themes: the contributions of women, the outlook of British Loyalists who sought refuge, the fervor of the Sons of Liberty, and the experiences of enslaved individuals yearning for freedom.
Living with Tension
The narrative is deeply rooted in classical liberal thought, reflecting Enlightenment ideals that suggest a fresh vision of humanity can emerge from self-determination and freedom, shedding the oppressive shadows of European aristocracy.
This perspective acknowledges the critiques of slavery and societal hierarchies but seeks to integrate their lessons rather than reject the entire American experiment. Instead of discarding it, the series suggests navigating through the complexities of history to extract lasting values.
Burns tends to avoid hot-button phrases, steering clear of overtly scoring political points. He frequently references “resistance” and wraps up with a nod to potential threats posed by “unprincipled agitators,” quoting Alexander Hamilton: “No one is above the law.”
Overall, the prevailing sentiment seems to be that the revolutionary values overshadow the flawed individuals who fought for them. For Burns, this period was more than just a conflict; it was a radical, ongoing exploration of human freedom that inspired aspirations around the globe. He ardently defends the lofty ideals associated with the conflict.
Idealism and Discomfort
The show’s title implies a revolutionary significance; it signifies a shift in thought rather than just a war. It posits that “to believe in America…is to have faith in possibility” and that understanding the revolution is key to grasping “why we are where we are.”
The twelve hours of content, though, do ask viewers to accept some contentious claims—like the idea that George Washington’s motivations were largely self-serving as a landowner, as well as that popular narratives often downplay the revolutionaries’ violent actions and that many founders were ultimately hypocritical.
This complexity illustrates the challenges of narrating a nation’s story without clear heroes or villains. Those advocating for American ideals often appear as a mix of differing, sometimes contradictory figures.
“The Revolution” aims to leave both this idealism and discomfort lingering in the audience’s mind, provoking thoughts on how morally compromised individuals can still enact change. One historian raises the poignant question: “How can you do something knowing it’s wrong? That’s a universal query.”
Ultimately, Burns’ latest project offers a bittersweet viewing experience—it’s not a typical sentimental look at American values for the 250th anniversary but rather an exploration that is thoughtful, classical, and liberal, intentionally avoiding any overt praise for those involved. It’s engaging and thought-provoking, providing a sense of sobering reality.
