Natchez [Tribeca Festival Review]
Natchez, Mississippi is a town with a lot of history, not all of it good. There are beautiful old antebellum houses that continually draw tourists. But those mansions were built by slaves, who were forced to live in far less glamourous residences. Suzannah Herbert’s documentary Natchez examines the fractured attitude of the town’s citizens, some of whom want to romanticize this legacy and others who prefer putting it in a more educational context. The film had its world premiere in the Documentary Competition section of the 2025 Tribeca Festival.
We meet multiple residents, including an antebellum tour guide who cheerfully glosses over slavery, a divorcee who feels a sense of glamour from wearing hoopskirts and strolling through town, the first Black member of the historically all-white Pilgrimage Garden Club, and “Rev,” a Black tour guide who makes every effort to provide the true history of Natchez. Herbert moves back and forth between these and other people, showing the conflicting perspectives, as well as the resentment that often exists between the two sides. One of the most shocking figures is Gene, the owner of a muffler shop who vocally (and obnoxiously) rails against revitalizing Forks of the Road, the second largest slave market in U.S. history, which happens to be right across the street from his business.
Unsurprisingly, race plays a major part. Those in favor of presenting a Gone with the Wind version of history are white conservatives; those who want to acknowledge the part slavery played in Natchez’s establishment are either Black or liberal whites. Herbert astutely captures how ingrained racial tensions are in town. Slavery may be over, yet its effects continue to linger.
The documentary is relevant and enlightening, given the type of fiery arguments that have been playing out in our society regarding issues like Civil War monuments and flying the Confederate flag. From the inside, you get to see how entrenched many townspeople are in the version of history they grew up with. Change is threatening because Natchez is fundamentally who they are; their entire identities are built around it. Acknowledging the contributions of slaves means accepting they descended from slave owners, that the gorgeous mansions they’re so proud of were built through cruelty and inhumanity.
Herbert avoids excessive editorializing. She lets the residents speak for themselves. The conclusions, however, are quite clear. This is not a problem that will resolve itself anytime soon. Natchez is smart, provocative, and even occasionally funny as it depicts a town at war with itself and, by extension, with the culture at large.
© 2025 Mike McGranaghan