Ava DuVernay, left, director of the film “Selma,” and David Oyelowo, the actor who plays Martin Luther King Jr., created a fascinating portrait of King without using his most famous speeches. (Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP) 
 
 The arc of history is long, but it has finally bent toward a Martin Luther King movie. 
 
 For the first time in the 50 years since Martin Luther King Jr. led the civil rights movement, a feature film is being devoted to a pivotal chapter in the historic struggle, with King at its center. Over the years, several King movie projects have been started, stalled and stopped, either because a filmmaker got cold feet or King’s family — which controls the rights to his life story and speeches — didn’t agree to make them available. (They have since sold them to DreamWorks SKG with Steven Spielberg producing.) 
 
 “Selma,” a film starring British actor David Oyelowo as King, and directed by Ava DuVernay, is the first film to break that logjam. Both a sweeping epic and an intimate personal portrait, it possesses the scope and epic grandeur that befits its subject, the 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery, Ala., and King’s fight with president Lyndon B. Johnson to secure the Voting Rights Act. But, perhaps more crucially, it depicts King in a new way — not as a forbidding icon or flawless secular saint, but as a cannily strategic player who equalled Johnson move-for-move in a high-stakes bout of political gamesmanship. 
 
 What’s more, “Selma,” which opened in Washington on Thursday, makes the bold move of dispensing with King’s most familiar and famous speeches: Working with an original script by Paul Webb, DuVernay carefully paraphrased King’s oratory, so that the words Oyelowo speaks in the film have King’s cadence and meaning, even when they’re not literal. 
 
 The reason is simple: “We never even asked” for the rights to King’s speeches, said DuVernay during a recent visit to Washington. “Because we knew those rights are already gone, they’re with Spielberg, and secondly we found a way to do it where we didn’t have to ask for permission, because with those rights came a certain collaboration.” 
 
 The result is a fascinating portrait that both eerily captures King, but also feels just a tick off from impersonation. Oyelowo doesn’t physically resemble the civil rights leader, nor does his voice possess quite the ringing timbre most people associate with one of the greatest orators of the 20th century. But the filmmakers’ decision to eschew mimicry liberates “Selma” from being mere hagiographic waxwork, or a series of speeches and set pieces, and allows it to be an authentic drama with fully realized, grounded characters. King, especially, is presented as conflicted, whether the subject is his frequent infidelities or his controversial decision, during the second of three marches from Selma, to turn back instead of moving forward. 
 
 “I’m a conflicted, flawed, insecure, at times brilliant, at times nonplussed human being,” Oyelowo said of his characterization of King, “who is facing obstacles and trying to overcome them.” Oyelowo — who was attached to play King in “Selma” seven years ago before the project was shelved, and advocated for DuVernay to direct — believes that this version of King could only have come about with an African American director at the helm. “There was a study done around the police in a certain state in this country, and they admitted that there is an inherent fear of the black male,” Oyelowo said. “So subconsciously or consciously, to have black powerful men driving the narrative as protagonists is frightening for America. And frightening for Hollywood. Subconsciously there is an allergy to it.” 
 
 This is why, historically, films that have dealt with the civil rights movement have so often been told through the journey of a white character, whether a white FBI agent in “Mississippi Burning” or a well-meaning college girl in “The Help,” Oyelowo suggested. Conversely, he thinks, “Selma’s” nuanced portrayal of King “gives context to who we are as human beings, and hopefully it disintegrates those fears that are out there.” 
 
 Because “Selma” deals with such well-documented history, there will surely be quibbles with the compressions and liberties the filmmakers have taken in the name of economy (the film does a remarkable job of swiftly moving through complicated events in just over two hours). For example, Diane Nash and James Bevel, who originated the idea of marching from Selma and finally convinced King, are relegated to the background of a story in which King is by far the most prominent figure. 
 
 Still, the fact that Bevel (played by the musician Common) and Nash (Tessa Thompson) and their fellow activists are there at all represents a small victory: The original screenplay for “Selma” was centered almost entirely in the White House, and Johnson’s struggle with King over whether to address voting rights or the War on Poverty. “It was important to have them in the script, because they weren’t, previously,” DuVernay said, “just to have them named and have them present.” DuVernay added that she insisted on including a scene when they tell King that Selma’s the right place for the upcoming demonstrations. “It’s my tip of the hat to them,” the director said. 
 
 “This is the beauty of having Ava be the one to direct it,” Oyelowo added. “Perspective is so key — in terms of the women, in terms of the politics, in terms of who really brought about this change.” In “Selma’s” first incarnations, he said, “perspective was skewed, I’ll be brutally honest with you, in terms of what this film should be. And it was skewed in a way that has been done so many times before. . . . I’ve watched this thing morph into what it should be, and what other things haven't been and could have been, just by virtue of perspective.” 
 
 Oyelowo and DuVernay had received the ultimate imprimatur of that perspective just a few weeks ago, when Oprah Winfrey — who has a cameo role in “Selma” and is one of the film’s producers — played host at a screening of the film in Santa Barbara, for members of King’s family and several of the real-life activists who are portrayed in the film, including Nash, Rep. John Lewis and former U.N. ambassador Andrew Young. Not only did Martin Luther King III express his approval, DuVernay added, but someone approached her in the darkened screening room while the end credits were still rolling. “Ambassador Young walked up to me in my chair, put his hands around my face and said, ‘Well done,’ ” DuVernay recalled. “ ‘You did it.’ ” ||||| The new film Selma has sparked a bitter public debate, mostly concerning the film’s representation of President Lyndon Johnson’s stance on voting rights and how much artistic license is appropriate for a biopic centering on a major historical event. Less discussed, however, is the degree to which the MLK estate’s tough stance on copyright affected the historical accuracy of the film—and has affected many other films and books before it. What is lost when a biopic cannot take full advantage of its main character’s rhetorical brilliance? And what alternatives are available for filmmakers that want to produce history, not hagiography, about MLK? 
 
 Selma director Ava DuVernay may well have taken more license than artistically necessary in the confrontational scenes between Martin Luther King Jr. and President Johnson. But inaccuracies in other significant parts of the film were forced upon DuVernay by copyright law. The film’s numerous scenes of King delivering powerful speeches regarding civil rights all had to be paraphrased, because the MLK estate has already licensed the film rights in those speeches to DreamWorks and Warner Bros., for an MLK biopic Steven Spielberg is slated to produce. 
 
 The litigious MLK estate, controlled now by King’s descendants, has a long history of employing copyright to restrict the use of King’s speeches. The estate appears to have two objectives: maximize revenue and control King’s image. In the 1990s, the estate sued USAToday for publishing the full text of the “I Have a Dream” speech King delivered on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in August 1963, and the newspaper quickly settled by paying for a license and attorneys’ fees. The estate then sued CBS for including footage of the speech in a segment of its documentary series The 20th Century with Mike Wallace. In its defense in court, CBS argued that the speech had entered into the public domain because King had not complied with the notice and registration requirements of the Copyright Act of 1909. The trial court agreed with CBS, but an appellate court reversed and ruled in favor of the MLK estate on narrow technical grounds. (Specifically, although the speech was delivered to a live audience of several hundred thousand people and broadcast to millions more, the appellate court treated the delivery of the speech as only a limited publication of the underlying text that did not trigger the 1909 Act’s notice and registration requirements.) 
 
 The MLK estate also sued the producers of Eyes on the Prize, an Emmy-winning documentary series on the civil rights movement, for the use of unlicensed footage of King speeches. This litigation settled when the producers reportedly paid the estate $100,000. Because of this dispute (and similar issues with other rights-holders), the series was out of circulation from 1993 to 2006, when PBS finally renewed most of the rights and edited the remaining unlicensed footage. 
 
 During the summer of 2013, as the nation was celebrating the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington, the MLK estate restricted broadcasts of “I Have a Dream,” but it did not lock down the speech altogether: It authorized sales of DVDs of the speech, and it licensed AT&T to use segments of the speech in cell phone ads. Over the years, the MLK estate has also licensed King speeches to be used in ads by Alcatel, Apple, Chevrolet and Mercedes. And it received over $700,000 from the foundation erecting the MLK Memorial in Washington, D.C., for the right to use MLK’s speeches and likeness in the Memorial. 
 
 How is it that one estate can control the use of speeches so central to American history 50 years after their delivery and 47 years after King’s tragic assassination? 
 
 One reason is that King was a private citizen. Had King been a federal government official when he wrote his speeches, those writings would always have been in the public domain. But because King was the extraordinary national political figure who was not a federal employee, the copyrights belonged to him and passed to his estate upon his death. 
 
 Another issue is that the term of copyright protection has grown increasingly long. The first copyright act adopted by Congress in 1790 provided a term of protection of 14 years after first publication that could be renewed for an additional 14 years, for a total of 28 years. The initial purpose of the exclusive rights granted by the copyright law was to provide authors with an economic incentive to create works for the public good. At the same time, the duration of the author’s monopoly was limited so as to enable other authors to build on the first artist’s work. 
 
 Thanks to aggressive lobbying by publishers, the estates of authors and, more recently, the motion picture studios, Congress has repeatedly extended the copyright term. In 1831, Congress extended it to two 21-year periods after first publication for a total of 42 years; and in 1909, Congress extended the term to two 28-year periods for a total of 56 years. Then, in the 1976 Copyright Act, in an effort to harmonize U.S. law with the international law of the Berne Convention, Congress lengthened the copyright term to the life of the author plus 50 years. In 1998, Congress added 20 more years of protection, to the life of the author plus 70 years, citing the law of the European Union as an international precedent. 
 
 The extensions have always been retroactive, applying to works already in existence. Thus, King’s speeches and other writings will not enter the public domain until at least 70 years after his death: January 1, 2039. 
 
 In Congress’ rush to please copyright owners, it has lost sight of the balance the founders intended. A term of protection of “life plus 70” grossly exceeds the economic incentive any author needs to create a work while constraining the ability of new artists to build on the original. And term of life plus 70 is particularly unnecessary in the case of Martin Luther King; King did not need any economic incentive to write his eloquent speeches, let alone a term of life plus 70. ||||| The film Selma, a soaring biographical drama about Martin Luther King’s role in the 1965 civil-rights marches, opens nationwide this week. Critics and audiences are lavishing it with praise, but it could have been an even more meaningful film if its producers hadn’t been blocked by the King estate — represented by a for-profit company, King, Inc. — from using words from King’s speeches, including “I have a dream.” 
 
 Selma still works because filmmaker Ava DuVernay was able to construct phrases that conveyed King’s oratory without using his actual words. King, Inc., is controlled by King’s surviving children and holds the copyright to King’s speeches. It has so aggressively enforced its legal rights as to make it almost impossible to use those speeches without paying a hefty fee. Film rights to King’s speeches have been licensed to Steven Spielberg’s DreamWorks. DuVernay told the Washington Post, “We knew those rights are already gone, they’re with Spielberg.” 
 
 She also noted that she knew there were strings attached to the rights: “With those rights came a certain collaboration.” In other words, the King estate uses its control over the copyright to control how King is depicted. It’s perhaps no surprise that no major feature film about King has been produced before now. 
 
 Recent court cases suggest that DuVernay would have had a strong “fair use” defense for using some excerpts of King speeches. But she apparently decided it wasn’t worth the risk of litigation. As recently as 2013, that risk prevented many media outlets from using anything more than the briefest of snippets in commemorating the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington and the “I have a dream” speech. 
 
 The risk is real. When Clarence Jones, who was a personal attorney and speechwriter for King, was told by attorneys from King, Inc., that if he wanted to use the full speech in his book Behind the Dream: The Making of the Speech That Transformed a Nation, he would have to pay $20,000. 
 
 “If it wasn’t for me copyrighting that speech, the King children wouldn’t today own their biggest moneymaker,” Jones complained. He said his small publisher feared a lawsuit, so he as the author had to indemnify them from any costs of such a suit. He then dared King family lawyers to sue the man who helped write “I have a dream.” They chose not to. 
 
 But there are many other occasions when the legal threats have prevailed. In 1996, the King estate sued CBS for using portions of “I have a dream.” CBS settled the suit by making a donation to the family’s King Center. The family had earlier sued USA Today for reprinting the speech’s text and won another out-of-court settlement and an apology. The band Living Colour wanted to start its 1988 iconic song “Cult of Personality” with Martin Luther King saying, “Free at last! Free at last! / Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!” But guitarist Vernon Reed recalls that “we couldn’t get approval from the King foundation to use that.” They substituted a quote from Malcolm X. 
 
 “I think Martin Luther King must be spinning in his grave,” former King lieutenant Bill Rutherford told CBS in 2002 in complaining about the restrictions on King’s words. “He attempted his entire life to communicate ideas for free. To communicate, not to sell.” 
 
 No one is safe from the King, Inc., lawyers. Apple, Chevrolet, and Mercedes have been able to use King’s words in their commercials only after paying hefty licensing fees. A T-shirt company has been licensed to produce products that “celebrate Dr. King’s life and legacy through artistic, fashion-forward designs.” 
 
 But the group that was behind raising $100 million to build the King monument on the National Mall had to drop its name — the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Foundation — in 2013 because King, Inc., demanded it pay a licensing fee. “At one point as the memorial was ready to be dedicated, King, Inc., had all of Dr. King’s books removed from the bookstore on the site of the memorial. The King children wanted to control the bookstore and reap all profits from the selling of merchandise,” Roland Martin, a former CNN commentator who was active in building the memorial, has complained. “All of this despite the foundation paying MLK children through King, Inc., $2.7 million to use the likeness of King and his quotes on the memorial on the National Mall.” 
 
 Family lawyers hunt down scholars who would use King’s words. Eyes on the Prize, the PBS documentary on the civil-rights movement, was delayed until the producers made a $100,000 payment to the King family. Julian Bond, head of the NAACP, says the price of his civil-rights textbook went up by at least $10 a copy because he had to pay to include four King documents in it. “The family hasn’t done itself a lot of favors with its insistence that somehow they have to profit,” Bond said. 
 
 Hosea Williams, who in 1968 stood with Dr. King on the motel balcony where he was shot, told the Ottawa Citizen that the profiteering has sullied the King message of humility. “It wasn’t white racists, nor was it the white government that did it; the people who killed King’s dream are those closest to him, and that’s the nightmare,” he said. 
 
 Managers for the King estate insist they are on firm legal ground and that other prominent figures have copyrighted their works for themselves and their estates. “We cannot allow our brand to be abused,” says Isaac Newton Farris Jr., King’s nephew and an executive of the nonprofit King Center in Atlanta. 
 
 Understood, although I never thought of MLK Jr. as a “brand” before. As copyright lawyer Jonathan Band notes: “The Selma speeches occurred 50 years ago and, under a rational intellectual property regime, should be entering the public domain. This is something for Congress to consider in 2015 as it continues to review U.S. copyright policy; rather than simply focusing on enforcement, it should also restore a balance between protecting artists and protecting free expression.” 
 
 So even though King, Inc., is within its legal rights, one can’t help thinking that Dr. King himself would look askance at all this. He was a fundamentally modest man, who just before his death spoke of how he should be remembered: “Tell them not to mention that I have a Nobel Peace Prize. That isn’t important. . . . I want you to be able to say that day . . . that I tried to love and serve humanity.” 
 
 Indeed. Let us hope that the message of “I have a dream” isn’t devalued by some who have appropriated his memory into the more mercenary one of “We have a brand!” 
 
 Martin Luther King Jr. is a national hero whose legacy belongs to the American people. Sadly, the lawyers for some members of Dr. King’s family don’t see it that way. 
 
 — John Fund is national-affairs columnist for National Review Online.
– The new film Selma avoided quoting Martin Luther King's civil-rights speeches because his family owns the copyrights and has sued over them—and it's all perfectly legal, Politico reports. The MLK estate has successfully sued USA Today, CBS News, and the Emmy-winning documentary series Eyes on the Prize, keeping it out of circulation for years. The Kings also raked in $700,000 over the MLK Memorial in Washington, DC, and have licensed King's speeches for ads by Apple, Mercedes, Chevrolet, and Alcatel. "We never even asked" for the rights, Selma director Ava DuVernay tells the Washington Post. She knew DreamworksSKG owns them for a future Steven Spielberg film, and that "with those rights came a certain collaboration"—ie, estate influence over King's portrayal. Why is it legal? Because King was a private citizen, not a government official, so his speeches and writings were his and passed onto his estate. What's more, Congress has extended copyright protection to the author's life plus 70 years (matching international standards), so MLK's work will become public domain on Jan. 1, 2039. The family has mostly kept quiet about all this, USA Today reports, but one of King's sons, Dexter, has written that "people don't want us, as the heirs, the estate, to benefit ... or for my family to be in any way comfortable." Yet the estate does have limits: It initially demanded $20,000 from Clarence Jones, King's personal attorney and speechwriter, for including the "I Have a Dream" speech in a book—but Jones published anyway, and the estate backed off, the National Review reports.