All language subtitles for MasterClass LeVar Burton Teaches the Power of Storytelling - 04 Case Study Roots

[EASY LISTENING MUSIC]

LEVAR BURTON: When I auditioned
for the role of Kunta Kinte,

I knew from my very first
exposure to the text

that I could play
this character.

I felt like I knew this kid.

And I really believe
that my preparation

was being Black in America.

I could absolutely relate
to the joys and the sorrow

of that kid's existence.

Emotionally, there were times
that were really difficult.

I will never forget
that Alex brought

me a galley's copy of "Roots"
right before we started

shooting the scenes
that took place

during the Middle Passage, the
scenes in the hold of the ship.

And I sort of devoured
that section of the book.

And we shot for three
days in that set.

I remember the beginning,
and I remember the third day.

But the middle, day two,
I'm pretty hazy about.

Now I interpreted
that experience

as being one where I checked
out the personality of LeVar,

was relieved momentarily
by the ancestors

coming in and
protecting my psyche,

the pain of recreating--

[EXHALES] --that
kind of experience.

That kind of ordeal was
such that, in the telling

of the story, I required
assistance from a--

I will say it-- a
supernatural force.

It's the only way
I can explain it.

Because I just don't remember.

I see the footage, and
I know I was there.

But I have no recollection
of the moments spent

in this body in the
pursuit of those aspects

of the storytelling.

Now maybe I'm
grasping at straws,

but it's the only way I know
how to put it into context

that makes sense for me.

And I was very much aware
of the presence of others

when we were shooting
various aspects of that.

Another time, when I had that
sense that I was not alone

in the moment, was
the end of hour 4,

when Kunta was being
whipped and trying to--

they were trying to whip him
into submission to accept

this new name of Toby.

[SCREAMING]

James.

[PANTING]

He got a name?

He is Toby.

[PANTING]

I want to hear you say it.

Your name is Toby.

You're going to learn
to say your name.

Let me hear you say it.

What's your name?

[PANTING] Kunta.

Kunta Kinte.

I know I wasn't
alone in that moment.

Because at the beginning,
when I read that scene,

I was very excited.

I-- you know, I was young.

I was 19, and I was really eager
to do all of my own stunts.

And I thought,
okay, this is going

to be a really fun
and interesting scene.

When it came time
to shoot that scene,

and I stood on top
of that apple box--

the sort of crates that I was
standing on-- and with my back

to this man with the whip in
his hand, all of a sudden,

I was terrified that
the tip of the whip

is moving at 120 miles an hour.

And his job was to wrap the
whip around my body, which

as it turns out, he
was very proficient at.

But I did not have any sort
of level of trust in this man

that he was as good
as they said he was.

So I was jumping before
the lash ever got to me.

And so we had to
make a new plan.

And they brought him back
a couple of days later,

scheduled the scene to
be shot in the afternoon,

and I spent the entire
morning with this man,

with him showing me
just how much control

he had over that weapon.

And in that communication,
I developed the trust

I needed to turn my back on
him and let him do what he did,

so that I could do effectively
what I was supposed

to do in the story.

Trust is an essential factor
for the successful communication

that needs to happen
between human beings,

especially in an
instance of storytelling.

We have to be able
to trust one another.

We have to trust
the source, and we

have to trust that the
receptacle, the receiving end,

is also there intact,
alive, and paying attention.

[MELANCHOLIC MUSIC]

[GASPING]

Shh.

[MELANCHOLIC MUSIC]

Don't you care what
the White man call you.

Make you say Toby.

What you care?

You know who you be.

Kunta.

It's who you always be.

LEVAR BURTON: What's remarkable,
to me, about that scene

is the part of that scene
that was unscripted.

When they cut Kunta down,
and Fiddler comes to minister

to his wounds, it
was not written

in the script that Fiddler
says, "Don't you worry,

Kunta Kinte, about what
that White man call you.

There's going to
be another day."

That was not scripted.

That was Lou Gossett
being in the moment

and responding from this place
of humanity that lived inside

of himself responding to the
needs of a young boy battered

and broken by the whip.

And he was trying to restore
his spirit by reinforcing,

"You know who you are.

What they call you
does not matter.

Because you know
your name is Kunta."

That's the power
of storytelling,

of being alive and
present in the moment

and open to the unknown
to what happens next.

[EASY LISTENING MUSIC]

"Roots" was a
watershed moment in--

certainly in entertainment
history and television history.

It was a shared experience.

It was back in the day
when there were only three

channels and PBS, really.

We didn't have the
plethora of choices

that we currently enjoy
for our entertainment

in absorbing stories
through popular culture.

I think one of the things
that really stands out

for me about "Roots"
and its impact

is that the story of
slavery in America

had never been told from the
point of view of the Africans

before.

This was a new take on
a tale that everyone

thought they knew.

America, up until
"Roots" had been

able to tell itself
the story that slavery

was this necessary
economic engine that

enabled America to rise to the
world power that it became--

what we never took
into account before was

the suffering inflicted,
was the horrors enacted,

was the injustice that was so
much a part of that system.

People will say all
the time in response

when I talk about the
horrors of slavery, yes,

but Africans had slaves, too.

Well, you can "what about" me
till you are blue in the face,

but you will never
convince me that there

was a system of
slavery anywhere else,

except for the Western
hemisphere that was based

on the color of one's skin.

That the color of one's skin,
that arbitrary uncontrollable

factor in one's life, subjugated
them to a life of enslavement.

And that there was
no humanity being

recognized by the
enslavers of the enslaved.

So "Roots was an
epiphany for America.

Because we were finally exposed
to the aspect of the story

that was about the suffering
of the human cost of slavery.

We'd never thought
about it before.

We were-- as a nation,
we were content to exist

in this sort of idyllic fantasy
about the Antebellum South,

and how noble and bold
and honorable it was.

Now, I'm not saying it
wasn't any of those things,

but it's important
to acknowledge

the context in which you're
able to discern those things

as a part of that period.

Right?

If you want to think
of the Confederacy

as this noble
institution, be my guest.

But you cannot do it in my
presence without the inclusion

of the rest of the story.

I'll fight you tooth
and nail on that.

So "Roots" was really,
I think, it was

an essential moment in America.

And I think that there
is a through line that

goes from the end of the Civil
War, Reconstruction, the Great

Migration of populations of
Black people from the South

to the North and the West,
of which my family is a part.

The Civil Rights Movement in
the '60s, "Roots" in the '70s,

and Barack Obama gets elected.

You remove one of those--

I see them as links in a chain.

Remove one of those links, and
the whole thing falls apart.

So "Roots," I see as
an important moment

in the history of America.

Because it was an
opportunity for us

to learn about our
own story in a way

we had ignored previously.