I Want You Back

Ok.  So I quit Bill Clinton around the time of the South Carolina primary because he was talking crazy talk.  But just now after hearing his speech at the Democratic Convention, I might have to take him back or at least let him off the curb.  Since he stopped drinking that Hillary Kool-Aid, he’s not so bad.  :]  He did a good job for Barack and Joe.

Traitor

So after my rant the other day about wishing for more Hollywood films featuring more non-formulaic black experiences, I lucked up and was able to see an advance screening of “Traitor,” a new film starring one of my favorite actors Don Cheadle. [I have liked Cheadle since back in the day when he was on the David E. Kelly show "Picket Fences" and Cheadle's stock went way up when he played "Mouse" in "Devil in a Blue Dress."] I have one word for this film: EXCELLENT.  Cheadle plays a Sudanese-American Muslim caught between terrorist and anti-terrorist forces.  The movie is action-packed and Cheadle carries the film brilliantly from beginning to end.  In addition to being a thrill-ride, the movie forces you, no matter your religion, to think about faith, what it means to be faithful, and what God expects of us as human beings.  Fortunately, the film does not paint Muslims as monolithic.  This is not an exact quote, but one of the characters makes the comment that there are 1.5 billion Muslims in the world and only 20% are Arab, suggesting the fallacy of profiling and making assumptions about Muslims and Arabs or even making assumptions about what circumstances my create a terrorist.  Indeed, one of the main “antagonists” speaks of his schooling in Switzerland and how alien he feels speaking Arabic.  The only criticism of the film I have is that it paints a grim picture of suicide bombers lurking in every coffee shop, university, neighborhood, and farmhouse, just waiting to blow Americans all to hell.  But I guess that’s entertainment. [Right.] Anyway, Cheadle’s performance alone is sublime as you see him struggle with real turmoil within himself: Is he a traitor to his faith? To his brethren? To America? To his God?

Just as an aside, would you believe that this film was executive produced by Steve Martin?  Yep, that wild n’ crazy guy.

RUN.  Do not walk to see this movie.

Batting A Thousand

Wow! I finally reached 1,000 hits today and then some.  I recorded 149 hits today, my biggest day ever!  That’s about 3 times my previous best day.  Thanks for reading my blog and keep reading!  :]

My Struggle with Hollywood’s Quintessential Negro

This week I was able to attend a screening of the movie “The Express”  [http://www.theexpressmovie.com/] which is scheduled to be released in October 2008.  I had seen the preview of the movie before being invited to the screening, so I knew the movie was about Ernie Davis, the first African-American college football player to win the Heisman Trophy.  Based on the preview, I was lukewarm about seeing the movie and wrestled with my decision to attend the screening. After all, I’d seen this type of Hollywood movie before:

Superior/exceptional/special African-American living in a time of intense racisim (slavery/Jim Crow) overcomes great odds with the help of his/her white benefactor.

Glory Road**Remember the Titans**The Long Walk Home**Glory**Imitation of Life**Driving Ms. Daisy**The Hurricane**Men of Honor**Radio…

If I had to create a name for these types of films, whether or not based on real people or fictional characters, I might call them “The Quintessential Negro Story.”  You can probably substitute the word “Negro” with any other ethnic or marginalized group.  Even when these movies are good and based on real and courageous human beings, I am still wary of these films because, in Hollywood, it is almost as if there is no compelling black experience to dramatize outside of slavery and the Civil Rights era.  Movies that tend to show other facets of the experiences of black people tend to be comedic or clownish or thuggish [which are two whole other topics of discussion.]  The other problem I have with these quintessential negro films is the benevolent white-character counterpart who is in the film to have a revelation that racism is wrong and without whom the black character might not overcome the obstacles before him.  Such characterizations are paternalistic and condescending as if black people cannot achieve goals without help from white people.

Even with some of my disdain for these class of films, one of my favorite films in this “genre” is “A Dry White Season” which is set in South Africa during apartheid.  [****If you hate spoilers, don't read any further.****]  In that movie, Donald Sutherland is the benevolent white character who, through a personal friendship with a black man, finally sees the evil of apartheid, although he has been complacent and complicit in the system for most of his life.  What I like most about the film is that not only does Sutherland realize and acknowledge the horrible impact of apartheid on blacks in South Africa, but he makes real personal sacrifices to rectify his past complacency–he loses his wife, his daughter, and ultimately his life.  The movie was directed by Euhzan Palcy, a black woman from Martinique, and so you have to wonder if the story would have been as compelling in the hands of a Hollywood director.

So as a lover of film, I ache for more dramatic films featuring a wide-range of black experiences— Love Jones , Talk to Me, She’s Gotta Have It, The Color Purple, Eve’s Bayou —and about people of color in the world—Rabbit Proof Fence, City of God, Bend It Like Beckham, Last King of Scotland.  [A big shout out here to personal friends of mine making thoughtful independent black films Drayton Jamison (Big Ain't Bad) and Christine and Michael Swanson (All About Us).]

Now that I got all of that off my chest, back to “The Express.”  I went to the screening because I thought If I didn’t I might not have an opportunity to go to a screening of something I really wanted to see.  So I was prepared not to like the film.  But, unexpectedly, I did like it and was blubbering like a baby at the end.  Perhaps it was the compelling story of Ernie Davis as portrayed by actor Rob Brown (Finding Forester).  In Brown’s riveting performance, Mr. Davis comes across as a man who takes destiny into his own hands on and off the playing field.  To the filmakers’ credit, the benevolent white character–real life Syracuse football coach Ben Shwartzwalder as played by Dennis Quaid did not come off particularly paternalistic or patronizing during most of the film.  He was mostly portrayed as a man who cared about having the best football team made up of the best players.  I’m not going to go into any more detail or review the movie further because it will be several more months before it is released. 

 Just consider this an open letter to Hollywood that there is an audience for dramatic films about compelling black characters and experiences that need not be so patronizing or formulaic.

No Nude to Apply Update

So back in April, I posted about how much trouble I was having finding flesh-colored pantyhose as a woman of color in Atlanta.  Well, in protest I decided to go sans pantyhose for the summer.  It’s just too damn hot anyway.  Since browner skin is prone to dark spots I did something I thought I’d never do and bought some bronzing lotion to help even out the tone of my legs. It’s worked so-so.   Things have been going well until, of course, my mother weighed in on the situation yesterday.  She’s visually impaired, but can see kind of  sorta, particularly when she’s focusing on her only daughter’s fashion.  Anyway she asked me why I wasn’t wearing any pantyhose and I told her about my dilemma not being able to find my preferred choice at Target.  She was unimpressed and said once I get over sulking I should go online to the discount Hanes site and buy the “Pecan” hose I used to wear years ago.  She’s not wrong, but I want to be able to roll up to the store and buy what I want to buy.  Is it so wrong for  a WoC like me to be recognized as a valued consumer in the marketplace?   Waaaaaah!  I’m not done with my fit yet even if no one but me knows about it.

2 Words

CONFERENCE CALL.  These are the two words I have for Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick who was jailed today for violating the terms of his $75,000 bond by taking a trip to Canada without permission from the court.  Granted he went there on city business, but how he could be so careless with such scrutiny upon him is beyond me.  I think people in power sometimes forget they are not infallible.  The judge definitely knocked Kwame down a notch.  So remember kids, if you hold a public office and are under indictment for perjury and obstruction of justice, try picking up the phone before taking a jaunt across the border.

Fleeting Booby Vindicated

You may recall February 1, 2004 when all hell broke loose and 90 million people were exposed for 9/16 of a second to Janet Jackson’s right breast during the halftime show for Super Bowl XXXVIII.  “Wardrobe malfunction,” “Nipplegate”–whatever you wanted to call it, surely it was a sign of the Apocalypse.  [Yeah, right.]  Well the FCC fined CBS a half-million dollars for this incident.  On July 21, 2008, the Third Circuit Court of Appeals reversed the FCC’s decision and ruled that CBS was not liable and should not have been fined.

The FCC started regulating “indecency” over the airways circa 1975 when they came down on a radio station for playing a recording of the late George Carlin’s joke ”7 Filthy Words You Can Never Say” which contained numerous expletives.  Over the next 30 years, however, the FCC never penalized broadcasters for what it deemed to be “fleeting” indecency, particularly when it came to live broadcasts.  So an f-bomb here, a butt cheek there never really got anyone into trouble.  That was, however, until “Nipplegate.”  The Court of Appeals rightly called out the FCC for its hypocrisy [my word]  or its “arbitrary and capricious” ruling against CBS.

Still, one has to ask what was it about  Janet’s right breast being seen for barely a second that required all the hoopla and four years of litigation?  Total Nonsense!  I’m glad her fleeting booby has been vindicated.

Notes On My Marginalization Vol.1

The other day I bought the CD “19″ by this young British artist named Adele.  She basically has a blue-eyed soul sensibility to her music.  She kind of reminds me of Lu Lu from the 60’s who sang the song “To Sir with Love” in the Sidney Poitier movie of the same name.  Anyway, while I was listening to Adele, I had a flashback to when I was a tween in Atlanta.

    

 

Just by way of background, I was born in Colorado Springs, Colorado and lived there until I was nine, at which time I moved to Atlanta.  Needless to say, in that environment, my musical tastes were not purely, if at all,  R&B or the burgeoning genre of hip-hop.  I was fully entrenched in pop/top-40 and mainstream rock.  Casey Kasem was my homeboy. 

                                                                                    

                    Also, in Colorado, I was used to being one of two or three black children in a sea of white faces.  So moving to Atlanta which is majority African-American, was a bit of a culture shock and a big change, even though I was African-American.

And now, back to my flashback… 

I remember one of my favorite songs back in the day was “Borderline” by Madonna. On the school bus one day, I must have been singing or talking about Madonna because my Atlanta classmate looked me squarely in the eye and said, “You love that white girl, don’t you?”  Thinking about it now, I can’t be sure that my classmate was simply making an observation or criticizing me.  At that time, I was teased a lot for “talking white” or “proper,” so it was quite possible that the statement could have been totally  negative.  I have no recollection of what my response was.

Despite this episode which I must admit infused me with a bit of guilt for maybe not being “black enough” because of my Material Girl-loving ways, my musical tastes have remained pretty broad.    So my CD changer may rotate from Journey to Jill Scott to Elton John to Los Lonely Boys to Adele.   And  it’s all good.

Can A Black Rocker Get Some Love?

I can’t wait for this flick to be released on dvd: Electric Purgatory: The Fate of the Black Rocker.  It’s a documentary about African-American rock musicians and their struggle to make it in a genre of music in which typically only white musicians obtain mainstream success.  In high school and college, I made it a point to obtain every album Living Colour put out.  Aside from Jimi Hendrix, Living Colour is probably one of the few black rock acts to achieve some modicum of mainstream success.  I was fortunate to see them perform in 1993, but have not since.  Although they broke up for awhile they are touring again.  Unfortunately, most of their current shows are in Europe.  Can they get any love stateside?  Corey Glover has one of the best  voices ever.  Check out this this live performance on You Tube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fee1UDqGRs 

Here are some present and past blackrockers who I have listened to and think deserve more love: Robert Johnson, Bo Diddley, Fats Domino, Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Ike & Tina,  Bad Brains, Fishbone, Follow For Now, Res, Slash, Martin Luther, Ben Harper, Lenny Kravitz, Kenna, Cody Chestnutt, Darius Rucker, Gnarls Barkley, Daniela Cotton, N.E.R.D., Seal, Saul Williams, T.V. On The Radio.

Also some great resources are:

The Black Rock Coalition site at www.blackrockcoalition.org

The Bold as Love blog at http://www.boldaslove.us/ 

The article “Rock is the new black” at http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/music/2008/05/25/2008-05-25_rock_is_the_new_black.html

Rock on ’cause Elvis is dead, bitches.

Nappy-Headed Happiness

When I noticed my hair thinning three years ago, I decided to stop chemically relaxing my hair.  I recently told a friend of mine that I had to make a choice between going bald or getting off the junk.  For these three years, however, I’d been on the fence about what to do with my hair–braids, a weave, or what?  So I developed another bad habit and became addicted to my flat irons [plural], trying to achieve the same effects as a relaxer.  I knew I was doing as much if not more damage to my hair, but I could not help it. 

Well, this past weekend, I quit my flat irons, took the plunge, and really went natural.  And I LOVE it.  I found a salon called Urbanbella which specializes in cultivating the natural curls and kinks in the hair of women of color.  I had done so much damage that they had to put twists in my head and sit me under a dryer for an hour just to simulate some naps, but it was worth it.  I walked out with a wavy little ‘fro and I am so happy.  I plan to cultivate an even bigger badder bolder curly head full of hair. 

So get ready.