PrintPrecious may be the precious darling of the Hollywood elite now, thanks in no small part to backing from media moguls Tyler Perry and Oprah Winfrey, but not everyone is thrilled. Within the black community, a war is brewing between those who are satisfied with the present state of African-American cinema and those who denounce its current track. Many say that films like Precious, directed by Lee Daniels and written by Columbia adjunct professor Geoffrey Fletcher, and Perry’s Madea movies are important and real expressions of modern black culture. Others denounce them as affirmations of racial stereotypes that have been adopted and accepted by African-Americans and that have thus been accepted into the predominantly white, mainstream society.
In the late 1980s and 1990s, African-American-directed cinema surged onto the mainstream film scene with the works of John Singleton, Mario Van Peebles, CC ’78, and most notably, Spike Lee. Do the Right Thing, directed by Lee, and Boyz n the Hood, directed by Singleton, were critically lauded, each receiving two Academy Award nominations. Along with films like New Jack City, directed by Van Peebles, these films depict the African-American urban experience from a distinctly “African-American perspective.”
Currently, however, the approach to black cinema has changed significantly. While Tyler Perry’s films are specifically targeted toward the black community—women, in particular—other films written or directed by African Americans are targeted toward a wide array of audiences. While The Book of Eli, The Secret Life of Bees, and Fantastic Four are films directed by African-Americans, their target audiences are not dictated by race.
Nevertheless, this remains to be an age of firsts and seconds for African Americans, not to mention for women and other underrepresented groups, in the film industry. Singleton and Daniels are the only African-American directors to ever be nominated for an Academy Award for best director.
Gina Atwater, a filmmaker studying in the School of the Arts, identifies the systematic barriers for black directors. “It’s a very similar situation to why there have been so few women directors nominated for Oscars” Atwater says. “It’s because the opportunity for a woman or a filmmaker of color to direct a film of serious quality is virtually nonexistent,” she continues. “The situation is that women and minority filmmakers are not being trusted to helm the kind of projects that get the Academy’s attention, and that’s because … the industry is squeamish and only wants to trust people who have succeeded before.”
Perhaps the limited number of African-American filmmakers is due to the tabloid war among black filmmakers and critics over what constitutes an accurate depiction of black identity.
To say that Armond White, who earned his Master of Fine Arts at Columbia, is a controversial film critic would be an understatement. In his critique of Precious in the New York Press, he writes that “not since The Birth of a Nation has a mainstream movie demeaned the idea of black American life.” Stating that the film depicts a “sociological horror show” filled with “brazenly racist clichés,” he goes on to claim that Perry and Winfrey only endorse the film for their personal agendas—i.e. selling their brands.
While Spike Lee has also fallen prey to White’s critiques, Lee similarly decries the representation of the black community in Perry’s films and television programs. On the television program Our World with Black Enterprise, Lee comments on Perry’s works, calling them “coonery and buffoonery.” He condemns not only Perry’s works but also the black community’s approval of such works over the works of Singleton and Van Peebles. “A lot of this is on us. … You vote with your pocketbook, with your wallet,” Lee continues. “For me, the imagery [in Perry’s works] is troubling.”
As an African-American moviegoer, Mary Byers, a first-year in SEAS, understands where Lee is coming from—albeit from a less vitriolic standpoint. “When talking about Tyler Perry’s movies, I think they’re really clichéd, filled with a lot of stereotypes. Perhaps, yes, some people do have that crazy grandmother, like Madea, but it’s still not an accurate representation of the whole African-American community,” Byers says.
Nevertheless, Jean-Mary defends Perry’s works as a legitimate part of black cinema.
“[Perry’s films] are a parody of black culture, a parody of the attitudes of African-American families on children, culture, life, etc. They’re about laughing at yourself,” she says.
“To me, Precious was pure art. It wasn’t made for the establishment of black culture, but for the art and meaning of the piece. It isn’t necessarily or primarily a race issue.”
Perry’s success lies in targeting a previously unaddressed audience as well as the reality of the continuing struggle for black filmmakers. “It is still … extremely difficult to get funding for an African-American project,” Atwater says. “Tyler Perry was told that the portion of the black community he was targeting (churchgoers) ‘don’t go to movies.’ He had to prove the investors wrong. I would love to say that his success makes it easier on everyone else, but it doesn’t. Everyone must individually prove the naysayers wrong.”
Despite the fervent opinions regarding current black films, there is an underlying issue at the core of black identity politics. Both Perry—as his character Madea—and White have accused members of the black community of acting “bourgie.” To be “bourgie,” to be like the bourgeois class-conscious, educated, and pretentious in matters of taste. While White has denounced films like The Great Debaters and The Pursuit of Happyness of having a sense of “bourgie”-ness, he has extolled films like Cadillac Records, Meet Dave, and even Norbit as “excellent recent films with black themes.”
To some, the idea of acting “bourgie” is disturbingly similar to another derogatory claim common in black communities: “acting white.”
Jean-Mary finds this claim illogical. “Everyone has a culture, but I completely disagree with the stigma placed on educated African-Americans who ‘talk white.’ It’s ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. If you happen to improperly conjugate your verbs, then you’re black. Statements like that bring the whole African-American community down,” Jean-Mary says.
Byers echoes similar thoughts, identifying what is missing in films made by African Americans as well as those that are not. “I feel like there aren’t enough intelligent black people shown on camera,” Byers says.
For Atwater, the representation of the black community in cinema remains largely stereotypical. “Look at the upcoming Death at a Funeral, which was originally a British film, and is being remade with a majority black-American cast. The only changes being made to the film is that the characters are now black stereotypes who go around saying ‘Damn!’ to everything. That’s sad. But once again, it’s what Hollywood has convinced itself ‘people want to see.’”