With a title like “God Save Texas, “ a new three-part docuseries inspired by an acclaimed piece of nonfiction carrying the same name and authored by Lawrence Wright, one might think this particular program will unquestionably take a harsh look at the Lone Star State, focusing solely on its flaws and a bleak viewpoint as it looks to the future. There’s no doubt that Texas has, time and again, been mired in a barrage of controversial moments throughout the past 178 years of its existence as the 28th United state, but under the direction of Texas natives Richard Linklater (“Boyhood, “ “School of Rock”), Alex Stapleton (“Reggie, “ “Pride”) and Iliana Sosa (“What We Leave Behind”), here three specific Texan sticking points are touched upon extensively, each handled well individually but when joined together paint a fascinating picture of how far Texas has come and how far it has yet to go.
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Linklater’s up first; having made a name for himself thanks primarily to films set in and around Austin with modern classics “Slacker” and “Dazed and Confused, “ the filmmaking veteran has found a way to translate his slice-of-life directorial style into a similar fashion via his near 90-minute segment “Hometown Prison, “ as he teams up with Wright to revisit his teenage years spent in the town of Huntsville and reminisce on days gone by while driving the well-worn streets of his youth, eventually making stops at a former family home and beloved restaurants where the film finds him frequently engaging in conversation with faces from his past. These moments serve as a clear gateway into the main topic, an in-depth look at the local prison system and, specifically, the wide-reaching effects of the decades-old death penalty; as one of 27 states that still makes use of such an act, Linklater and Wright are able to thoroughly examine all viewpoints, with repeated check-ins on an anti-penalty protest and the family at the center, as well as an examination of how such a punishment affects far more people than the recipient alone. Linklater’s realization that the prison has been home to a number of his former classmates for various lengths of time, some of whom appear on-camera to discuss their respective experiences, makes for a fascinating recurring topic, along with interviews with students in town and how they’ve adjusted to life in close proximity to prison walls and protest groups; for them, it’s as familiar as the postman. 
Some of the more eye-opening moments encompass those who’ve been involved in the lethal injection process or been witness; to hear them talk about the moments before, during, and after in vivid detail makes for an oft-difficult watch, but nonetheless compelling, as the camera goes inside the room where a life ends, the narration paints a picture instantly drawing in the audience, while onscreen readings of correspondence with those who’ve spoken to death row inmates in the time leading up to their execution further heighten this sensation. Linklater even manages to make a relatively simple topic, such as the employees of a bus terminal charged with transporting recently released inmates, just as captivating as the subjects that surround it, and to hear prison guards as well as their families comment on the feeling that they themselves feel as if they’re the ones incarcerated couldn’t be any more eye-opening. There’s a heaviness to their words, as can be felt throughout the film, and the undeniable issues when it comes to race hangs above it all as if to tie it all together; yet, Linklater’s ability to connect everything feels effortless. It’s no-frills filmmaking at its finest, and stripped of the higher budgets and marquee names that dot the bulk of his decades-strong filmography, he is able to create one of his most powerful works to date.
As intense as Linklater’s contribution tends to lean, Alex Stapleton is able to easily match this level by delving into the prolific Houston oil industry with “The Price of Oil, “ employing a slightly heavier focus on race, history and just as many personal connections to the main topic, if not more. It’s a difficult thing to discuss; in a state seen as an energy center of the entire planet, shouldn’t all its residents find themselves on the receiving end of fiscal prosperity? By profiling her family, many of whom have failed to see such success and instead have endured a volley of health-related complications, the disparity between classes becomes all the more clear, and to hear from those who’ve spent their career in the industry with the hard-to-ignore sensation that irreparable damage may have already occurred within their respective immune systems does it round the bases towards home. This, by far, is the central issue Stapleton effectively conveys amidst these frequently emotion-laden conversations alongside her own discussions with Wright, but the ever-present matter of race continues to exist as a presence throughout.
Stapleton’s segment somehow feels more intimate, with the numerous scenes showing the director conversing with family members interspersed with relatable subjects as a look back at the construction of the first all-black planned community, Pleasantville, but the balance overall is just as even-keeled as Linklater, as well as effective. Few words exchanged throughout are easy to digest, but Stapleton’s knack for flow makes for a gripping experience, and much like Linklater, her own presence never feels elevated above those with whom she speaks and always carries the sensation that she’s simply here for a visit. Despite the film opening with a resident inquiring as to the nature of her documentary, this never feels as such.
With both directors having heavily utilized friends and family as fodder for genuine storytelling, Iliana Sosa’s concluding entry “La Frontera” carries the atmosphere of a cherished world she holds dear, that being the divide between El Paso and neighboring community Juárez, both of which share a common ethnicity but find themselves victims of separation thanks to the border wall. In speaking with Wright about her own family and reminiscing on her father having once worked on the other side of the wall in Mexico as she grew up, as well as through interviews with various family members equally impacted by this barrier in their own ways, does this feel spiritually similar to Stapleton’s familial tone while acting as a thorough examination of life on both sides of the border. It’s more than evident that the policies in place ostensibly designed to protect all affected citizens could use a sizeable amount of work, and as the episode progresses, we see how this section of the United States, once described as something of an Ellis Island, has been tarnished considerably.
Sosa’s journey isn’t limited to family; local journalists weigh in on the rhetoric that’s emerged from border-related discussions, and the unavoidable reality of how the spread of COVID-19 has further complicated matters takes center stage as well. A look back at the 2019 shooting that took place within an El Paso-based Walmart also receives analysis, a horrific tragedy that left 23 dead and 22 wounded. One moment in particular stands out: when “La Frontera” concludes its final act, are treated to scenes showing an annual event where families separated by the wall are permitted a scant handful of minutes to reunite over a ramshackle bridge spanning the Rio Grande river. Seeing children tearfully embrace their parents before just as emotionally having to bid farewell acts as one of the most moving images to have emerged from this debate, and it remains unclear when, or even if, all of this will find a way to a satisfying resolution.
On the surface, “God Save Texas” may seem like another exposé on a piece of our nation’s current state of affairs not unlike any PBS-crafted news program or semi-political doc, but within lies a fascinating look at three seemingly unrelated topics all joined at the hip by the state in which they’re housed and, indisputably more important, the people at the center. Every time someone opens their mouth to shed light on the matter at hand, the flow into the next scene finds itself teed up beautifully, feeling less like a sensationalist piece of hard-hitting journalism and more in line with the low-key efforts of Ken Burns. Three exceptional voices had the chance to tell these stories, each both similar and distinct, and when brought together, a piece of art emerges, no doubt destined for further examination in years to come. In its simplicity, it’s powerful. [A-]