anthem

Director’s Perspective

I first visited Clarksdale, Mississippi, in 2006 while working on a documentary series about unsolved cold cases—lynchings from the civil rights era that the FBI had failed to solve. Our series followed local journalists across the South, in places like Clarksdale, as they pursued justice on their own.

What we uncovered was more than unsolved crimes; we found deep veins of American culture—music, storytelling, family, and community. Nowhere was this more palpable than in the juke joints, where we lingered late into the night, immersed in a world of magic and ghosts, muses and memories. We met blues legends who carried the weight of history, who knew the stories of people publicly murdered or vanished without a trace. And there was something about the music itself—haunting, visceral, and deeply rooted in the soul of America. I knew I had to come back.

Years later, I met a young composer named Kris Bowers. We often spoke about American history and the musical traditions that define our nation. I had heard about a project Kris had worked on about the national anthem, and at the same time, I had been approached to direct two different films—both ultimately unmade—that explored the volatile intersection of patriotism and protest. We couldn’t ignore what was happening in the culture: the very symbols of the nation—the flag and the Star-Spangled Banner—were being questioned. Who did they belong to? Who did they represent? And what did that say about the state of our union?

Anthem took us from Clarksdale to Tulsa, from Oakland to Detroit, from Nashville to New Orleans. In each place, through music and conversation, we discovered something new—about the country, about each other, and about ourselves. Reimagining a national anthem for America was not a decision we took lightly, but we knew that music could serve as a bridge, allowing us to explore the past and present in a way that might capture the American story itself.

Pete Nicks
Director/Producer