MOVIE REVIEW : Illuminating ‘Diary’ of Determined Lives

The arrival of Jonathan Stack’s “Harlem Diary: Nine Voices of Resilience,” in the immediate aftermath of the Million Man March, couldn’t be timelier, for it sends the same basic message of taking responsibility for one’s own life even in the face of overwhelming adversity.

In their stirring, illuminating documentary, producer-director Stack, co-director Spencer Style and writer/co-producer Terry Williams introduce us to nine distinctive, thoroughly engaging African Americans, ranging from 12 to 26, who tell us their stories for both Stack’s camera and through their own. The result is a well-structured, well-paced film that flows with grace and spontaneity and has been masterfully edited by Susanne Szabo Rostock. Aiding greatly to the film’s varying moods is John Hicks’ evocative score.

All nine speak of a determination to make something of their lives. You fear not only that all of them may not succeed but, because of the neighborhood violence that endangers everyone who lives there, you also fear for those well on their way to their goals. What “Harlem Diary” makes so very clear is that the lives of each of these individuals is valuable, that each has a potential for accomplishment for themselves and their communities. Significantly, fathers are virtually absent from their lives: One gets out of prison shortly after his son, another is a white man who lives in Virginia.

The film’s scene-stealer is unquestionably its youngest participant, Amir Williams-Foster, a 12-year-old near-lifelong actor starring in the soap opera “All My Children.” Amir is as brilliant as he is handsome, breathtakingly articulate and, as a filmmaker and a photographer, he speaks of “narrative” and “structure” and the need to see beyond the surface of his photos. We for sure will hear more from him.

Christina Head, a 17-year-old beauty raised by her staunch grandmother, takes us with her as she visits her Greek father for her half-sister’s wedding in Virginia Beach, Va. Half-black, half-white, Christina was taught to think of herself first as a person rather than as a member of either race, but she arrives at her father’s home with an understandable apprehension as to how she will be accepted. Her fears prove unfounded, yet afterward, she’s glad to be back home.

Akida Bailey, 21, finds success in a mid-town Manhattan brokerage firm but has trouble getting a cab, despite his business suit and briefcase. Gradually, his unhappiness grows, and he risks quitting his good job to pursue some kind of position in Harlem that would allow him to work with children.

Many but not all of the rest of the film’s young people are as centered as these three, and it’s hard to be optimistic about some of them, no matter how strong and true their insights into themselves and society, given the crushing circumstances of their lives.

These nine people are so adroit at speaking for themselves that the occasional on-screen narration by Williams, a sociologist, often seems academic and redundant. In most instances, we’d like to know more about the young people’s families--where did all those fathers go, how does it happen that one mother has nine children, ranging from 17 to a baby, without a man in sight? What are the families’ sources of income?

“Harlem Diary” is nonetheless a fine, moving accomplishment filled with truths about all people, young and old, and not just African Americans.

* Unrated. Times guidelines: The film is forthright about the realities of urban life, but its subjects express such determination that it is inspiring and therefore suitable for all ages .

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‘Harlem Diary: Nine Voices of Resilience’

A Gabriel Films release of a Discovery Channel production. Producer-director Jonathan Stack. Co-director Spencer Style. Writer/co-producer Terry Williams. Cinematographers Maryse Alberti, Samuel Henriques. Editor Susanne Szabo Rostock. Music John Hicks. Running time: 1 hour, 36 minutes.

* At the Magic Johnson Theaters, Crenshaw Plaza, Baldwin Hills, (213) 290-5900, and the Sunset 5, 8000 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, (213) 848-3500.