Director Jeb Stuart’s “Blood Done Sign My Name” takes a frequently painstaking walk down America’s racial memory lane. It revolves around a fact-based account of the murder of Henry “Dickie” Marrow, a Black Vietnam-era veteran who was beaten and shot to death in 1970s North Carolina over allegations that he made flirtatious comments to a White woman.

The depiction of the central event in the story is gruesome — necessarily so — as cameras provide an up-close perspective of the killing. You’re made to feel every blow to the head, as they’re delivered with fists, feet and the butt of a rifle, and are convincingly pulled into every moment of the resulting anger, sadness and confusion.

During the first hour, we are introduced to Ben Chavis (Nate Parker), the son of a well-to-do Black family who has returned home to teach and reopen his father’s restaurant as a hangout for Blacks who are not welcome in White-owned establishments; later, he employs his sharp wit to confront an unjust legal system. We also meet Rev. Vernon Tyson (Rick Schroder), a preacher seeking to advance the process of integration.

The buildup to Marrow’s death is slow, but once it occurs, many forces begin to collide. A.C. Sandford, the actor who portrays him, is only onscreen for about 10 minutes; but his presence is powerful. As the story unfolds, his brief appearance does not diminish the fact that Marrow’s death was the launching pad upon which Blacks in then-racially segregated Oxford, North Carolina rose up against an oppressive environment.

However, it is made just as clear that Marrow’s importance was equally symbolic, in the opening of a new front in the civil rights movement. It is best expressed by Golden Frinks (Afemo Omilami), an organizer who arrives from the north to fan the flames of the resentment felt by local Blacks and prepare them for the battle ahead. “You think Dickie Marrow’s murder is the worst civil rights lynching ever? It doesn’t even come close to the things that I’ve seen,” he says. “What’s special about his death is it gives us an opportunity to make things better.”

And they did. After Marrow’s perpetrators were let off the hook — acquitted by an all-White jury, even after one of the assailants confessed to his involvement — oppressed Blacks took to the streets. They lashed out at White-owned businesses, looting and setting the town’s main source of income — tobacco factories — ablaze.

The cinematography in the depiction of civil unrest is pitch-perfect. Even in the absence of “Avatar”-like 3D effects, audiences are made to feel in the moment as bricks are hurled, bodies are thrown against gates and fires rip through the factories.

In the midst of violence, there are also moments of peace. Frinks and Chavis (who was Marrow’s cousin) led a non-violent march from Oxford to Raleigh. Atop an empty casket sat Marrow’s wife and two children — a powerful, indelible image. What began as a crowd of approximately 20-30 turned into thousands along the 50-mile route. They were intimidated along the way by racists who steered cars toward them while unloading guns in the air, but these moments are informative to those unaware that such incidents occurred well beyond the 1960s.

Parker gives a fine performance, evenly depicting the temperament his character is intended to possess. He is calm and quiet when needed, because Chavis was always thoughtfully strategizing on what it would take to end African-Americans’ plight. And when it was time to fight, he fought — not just with his physical might, but also his mind.