Stepin Fetchit to Denzel Washington (Part I)

One film I really wish was on that list is Sayles' Lone Star. Race may not be the central issue of the film (as it is in most of their choices), but that's part of the point: Sayles considers it as part of a complex interaction of history, class, language, gender and sexuality, and politics. It's a film that got me thinking differently about race in America, about the way we define and discuss the black experience, and how integrated our views become at all levels of society. Lone Star may not have had the same impact as many of the films discussed, but hey, neither has the Corliss-included Eve's Bayou.

Lots of good choices, though. I'm glad Corliss picked the much-maligned Bamboozled, which is a far from perfect film (and the affected lead performance is like nails on a chalkboard), but its best moments are exhilarating in spite of the film's occasional incoherence. The sequence where Lee watches the audience's reactions to the first performance of "Mantan" is probably my favorite sequence in any of his films: the camera watches as members of the audience struggle to know "how" they're supposed to react, which is not too different than being an audience member watching a Lee film.

It's also a bit disconcerting that the feature is entitled "The 25 Most Important Films on Race" instead of "The 25 Most Important Films on Race (where "race" is narrowly defined as "black America")". I understand that the feature is in celebration of Black History month, and Corliss clarifies in the course of the article, but call it what it is, Time! We already have a problem with leaving out the experience of Asian, Latino, Native, and other Americans in our film representations and our discussions of racism: it's a little grating to hear it perpetuated, even if not intentional.

Brad: I agree with you: I think "Lone Star" is a great film, and it embodies this idea that you have to examine the reality of the past in order to understand the present, and move ahead. That image of two people sitting in front of the blank drive-in screen at the end is magnificent.

I wondered about "Race" in the Time headline, too. Reminded me of something Odienator had written in his original piece about "Black History Mumf" that, as Homer Simpson has said, is "funny because it's true":

I went to a predominantly Black and Hispanic school, yet we only got to hear about Black History during the shortest month. Hispanics didn’t exist at all, according to the curriculum. To the Board of Education, they could have come out of Cracker Jack boxes. The closest the Puerto Ricans ever got to learning anything about their culture at my grammar school was when they had an assembly and showed "West Side Story."

I agree with both Brad and JE. One of the greatest films about racism in America, "The Searchers," is not on the list.

While I kind of agreed with Glieberman when I first read his review about Denzel in "Gangster", I also now disagree. I think Denzel did show his inner thug with his Oscar win. But is it really necessary for a Black actor to play a bad guy like a thug? I think his "dour nobility" suited the role nicely (which is a great description for that Denzel face when he listens to people intently - I call it the droopy interested face.)

As for "Bamboozled". I saw it recently and loved it up til the end. It seems like even Spike Lee can't end a movie without every black character pulling out a gun to shoot someone. All the satire and he ends a bright film about facing and breaking taboos as if a white executive had control over it. Too bad.

I've always been fascinated by the bizarre decision to cast Richard Pryor as Superman's (sort of) foil in Superman 3. Pryor steals money by figuring out how to shuttle all the half-pennies in his company's payroll system into a separate account. This could easily have been one of those stereotyped "successful blacks" from Neil Simon 70s shows that today seem somewhat condescending though it's unfair to judge from 30 years ahead of time. But Pryor's character never feels like he's a product of feel-good liberalism. He's not really a computer genius; he just kind of finagles his way into the scam, picking up bits and pieces of knowledge along the way. And he occupies an uncommitted territory between hero and villain, between active and passive, mostly identifiable as "Get Me the Hell Out of Here, I Don't Belong in this Movie in the First Place" territory.

It's one of the strangest roles I can think of in a popcorn Hollywood flick (unlike the first two films, Superman 3 is almost universally wretched, save for the Evil Superman flicking peanuts scene)and now I've talked myself into watching it again.

Late in his life Lincoln Perry (Stepin Fetchit) received an NAACP Image Award as well as being inducted into the Black Filmmakers Hall of Fame. It wasn't easy but most black filmmakers and civil rights activists finally came to the conclusion that he had made important contributions to the screen with his terrific acting and comedic timing (which aren't supposed to be praised because of the stereotypes they perpetuated) and that he made it a lot easier for other black actors to follow without playing the part. Nevertheless, by the sixties, even after a conversion to Islam and a close friendship with Muhammed Ali, many civil rights activists still did not want to be seen with him.

The classic era, or golden age, is a difficult one to deal with in terms of race. I have done several pieces on race and racism in the movies of the era and each time (whether it's on Fredi Washington, racism during the Prod Code era, or a survey of Race films in the 20s and 30s) the posts have been met with a resounding silence. Much fewer views than my average post, little to no commenting. I don't know if it's because people don't care or if they feel uncomfortable commenting on the subject.

I think what Odienator is doing is great and it is certainly more fitting to celebrate the later triumphs than the earlier concessions to stereotype but I would like to see a few more nods in the direction of Fredi Washington, Eddie Anderson, Rex Ingram, Ethel Waters and others who trailblazed (in the thirties) for so many to follow and I think with the high profile Odienator has with his affiliation with The House Next Door he's the perfect blogger for the job.

It wasn't easy operating in the stereotype dominated racist environment of Hollywood in the thirties and forties but those I mentioned above (Washington, Anderson, Ingram, Waters) did so with admirable success (and it was a lot harder for them than it ever was for Eddie Murphy, hell even for Sidney Poitier).

I am a bit annoyed at the selection of "I am Legend." While I found the movie fun and entertaining, choosing a movie simply to make a larger point about Will Smith's mass market appeal undermines the list. If you want to make a list of movies with the greatest impact on the topic of race, then do it. However, if you want to show that Americans will watch a black actor, that's another topic. It reminds me of the person who says: "I'm not racist...I know a black guy, and we're friends."

I do, however, think extrapolating Will Smith's appeal to make a broader point about our willingness to accept Obama was interesting.

I have to wonder: why do we in general expect poor Mr. Washington to have enough range to not only play villains but play them well? I am wondering if this might be a dilemma for successful black actors: On the one hand he feels obligated to "represent his people well" in mainstream media and not perpetuate the stereotype that black roles on screen are predominently scary criminals. On the other hand, he is egged on by critics to "take more risks" and "expand his range." Did Mr. Poitier feel the same pressure to take diverse roles and venture into non-noble characters? Perhaps the dilemma reflects the change of time and social expectations (not necessarily bad).

A lot of actors have a niche and feel more comfortable to play similar types of characters. Few have urged Tom Hanks to "diversify" into villainous roles. There are other black character actors who are more comfortable with adapting to different roles (eg, Don Cheadle), but, like white character actors, they are just not very prominent and popular with the masses.

That said, I do hope Mr. Washington will have more collaboration with Spike Lee. He seems to be the most comfortable, relaxed, and alive in Lee's movies, which are far from mere political statements. Actually I really enjoy Spike Lee's humor, humanity, and keen observations, plus his tendency to stay modest and tell modest stories about modest people rather than trying to make epics after the success of Malchom X. That's what I would like to see more of in "ethnic" movies -- individual, intimate, insightful.

Latino American filmmakers are probably in a more difficult situation to tell their stories than black filmmakers. The diversity in Latino culture is huge across the various ethnicities. It is difficult for Mexican viewers respond to Cuban movies more easily than Anglo viewers. And the social and political climate today, fueled by a sudden surge of illegal immigration debate, is enough to scare any studio boss away from Latino-themed movies, in my opinion.

To Christopher, for a second there, I thought you were Michael Bolton from Office Space.

My guess is that Stepin Fetchit (Lincoln Perry) does still get a bad rap, though I haven't read the recent bio on him. But I think it's interesting to compare his performances in John Ford's films Judge Priest (1934) and The Sun Shines Bright (1953), the latter a partial remake of the former. Fetchit plays the same role in both: Jeff, the Judge's comical man-servant in antebellum Kentucky. Fetchit's shuffling mannerisms and mush-mouthed delivery became the prevailing Hollywood "Negro" stereotype in the '30s, and his performance style didn't change much from the first film to the second. But somehow, in The Sun Shines Bright, he manages to show unmistakable signs that Jeff is deliberately downplaying a formidable intelligence -- a true transitional character that points forward, not backward. One gets the impression that he and Ford are trying to do something positive within the confines of the time in which they worked, while staying true to the reality of the society and era they're depicting. They're really fascinating films that paint a much more complex picture of American racial issues than something like Crash.

I can't think of a movie that has shown me more about how race actually functions in America than HOOP DREAMS.

I've always found the Stepin Fetchit argument confounding. I can certainly understand how hard it is for African-Americans to watch the cartoony stereotypes of those days and I can also understand the actors' need to work, but then there's another issue when it comes to people in lily white Middle America. Did the stereotypes have a worse effect on them than seeing no black people at all? I grew up in a town with lots of black people but almost never saw them until junior high but at least I had sports. Willie Horton was my favorite Tiger and because he had always been there, I truly don't remember noticing that he was black even though I clearly remember staring when I saw black people on the street. Same goes for Buckwheat. He was always there and I took him for granted. Even in retrospect I think The Little Rascals was pretty important with three major black characters. Farina plays to a lot of the stereotypes but was also the smartest of his group and clearly meant to be as sympathetic as any. Buckwheat might have been hard to understand but compared to Porky he was William F. Buckley and was rarely the butt of the jokes for any reason other than that he was younger. I'm not trying to rationalize that things weren't really so bad, I just think that when going back as far as Stepin Fetchit it's important to remember the alternative was nothing at all. I've never seen him except in brief film clips so I couldn't say whether he managed to subvert his "place" but he was there. In 1953, seventeen years after Jesse Owens, "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" portrayed the U.S. Olympic Team as all white. Probably no one complained.

Oh, I just wanted to comment on Rex Ingram because I recently caught the Cary Grant/Jean Arthur/ Ronald Colman film "Talk of the Town" which I was not familiar with. I thought it was great and was really surprised to see the way Rex Ingram was portrayed (and played). Yes, he was a servant--Colman's valet--but he was treated with as much respect as any gentleman's gentleman I've seen and was not just "wise" but intelligent, thoughtful and well-spoken. He and Colman discussed romance as equals. There was one bizarre scene in which the camera held on him for a looong time as he wept when Colman shaved off his beard. I don't know what that was about but otherwise...I just didn't know there were any parts like that available in 1942.

To Christopher, for a second there, I thought you were Michael Bolton from Office Space.

As long as he wasn't Michael Bolton of "How can we be lovers if we can't be friends" fame...

Jun: Excellent point about the diversity of Latino cultures and films, which applies just as much to Black (not just African-American, not just West African or East African, not just Caribbean, not just Brazilian...) and Asian (which is used as a catch-all term to cover Chinese/Taiwanese, Korean, Japanese, Filipino...). We hear about "Asian cinema" as if it's some kind of homogenous thing, and it's not. Different cultures, different languages... Here in Seattle, especially, some of us get really tired of "Asian" being used as a PC term by people who just don't know, or don't care, about the differences. There's something dismissive about it to me: "Asian" can sometimes take on the tone of, "They all look alike to me." If people don't want to make the distinction between Japanese and Korean, and between Japanese-American and Korean-American, then we're all in deep trouble. (Just try mistaking a Korean immigrant for Japanese and, given their histories, and you may find out how deeply that distinction is felt.) And if you know somebody is of Chinese ancestry, it's not insulting to acknowledge it! I wonder if "Asian," and the unspoken assumptions behind the word, is becoming what the word "Negro" was at one time -- a way to avoid unintentional slights, but also a way to keep race at a safe distance.

Jeez, where did all that come from? When is Asian History Month?

I was born in Ankara, which is in Anatolia, which is in Asia. Does that make me Asian? As far as I'm concerned, it does. Yet I am also Caucasian. Go figure.

I especially love those forms that make the distinction between white, and Asian (or, sometimes, African - because you can't be white and be born in Africa).

Jim, I've talked with friends before who were offended by the term Asian. Unfortunately I don't have any Asian friends to talk to on a regular basis but I have talked with some acquaintances about it. My view is that the term Asian is just like the term White, Black, or Latino. It doesn't matter if your ancestory is Irish, French, British, Polish, German etc. you're considered white. It doesn't matter whether your ancestory is Cuban, Mexican, Dominican, Spanish, etc. you're considered Latino. Same about you mentioning that it doesn't matter if you're Japanese, Chinese, Korean, etc. you're considered Asian. If White, Black, and Latino are all acceptable then Asian has to be as well. If not then none of them are.

I think Asian is to Oriental what African-American is to Negro, or what Native-American is to Indian. Slightly more precise than the first term, but still lacking in accuracy. The question is, though, how do you get more accurate than that about someone you don't know? Granted, there is a fairly noticeable difference between say Japanese and Hmong, but can you spot the difference between, say, Kenyan and Nigerian at a glance?

Of course all of this gets even more murky because these hard categories belie the expanding racial miscegenation taking place (in real-life, if not on-screen).

Back to the topic at hand, it's funny to me that Corliss writes 'Nobody loves Tyler Perry except his audience (and Oprah), as if Oprah isn't the bulls-eye on his target.

Also, to your question of whether the comedians are descendant of Stepin Fetchit; I think Pryor owes as much to Sammy Davis Jr as anyone, his kitchen-sink style goes right through to Pryor, Murphy and the rest.

Ali: And there in Instanbul you are in the rather unique position of being able to zip across the Bosphorous, back and forth between Asia and Europe in moments, whenever you like!

Jason: That's it exactly. Some differences are pretty obvious, and some aren't. (At least, not to everybody.) But why should we pretend there aren't any? I'm saying that if you DO know the difference, there's nothing wrong with saying it. "Asian" is not inherently more PC than "Japanese."

Speaking for myself alone and not other Asians, the issue is NOT about what name to call "you lot of people," but rather, like Mr. Emerson has pointed out, how to tell stories that are about or involve people of a certain ethnicity. In other words, how to tell the story of characters who happen to be "not white."

In my opinion, good stories involving or centering around minority characters take the same approach as good stories involving white characters -- the only difference is in the viewer's mind who is used to seeing white characters dominate in movies and TV. (Note that minority viewers are used to seeing "white," mainstream stories too.)

To me the only rule is to tell authentic and specific human stories. If a character is IN PART influenced by his or her ethnicity, acknowledge it and give it as much emphasis as the element realistically deserves but no more. In real life, being of (in part or wholy) Chinese origin or African origin is no different from of Jewish or Italian or Irish origin. It's a part of you but by no means all of you. Something is woven into a specific person's specific identity, but none of it can be generalized. It is the infinitely variable combination of what makes a person unique that define everyone. The principle of good storytelling always has been "The more specific, the more universal."

Being Asian myself, nothing annoys me more than being generalized, lumped into a shapeless pile of "those people," even if I get labeled by positive and praiseworthy assumptions (eg, "You people are smart" or "You must be good at math."). In comparison, I am far less concerned about whether I'm called Asian or Oriental.

I have never heard of the notion that "Asian" is a derogatory term. If a person resents being called "Asian," why not ask him or her why? Why not sit down and have a chat about how he or she identifies herself? A lot of second or third generation Asian Americans strongly identify with their American identity and do not consider themselves to be practically connected with Asian ancestry. It's like some black people don't consider themselves "African" Americans.

Well-intentioned movies, including such made by minorities, sometimes make the mistake of trying too hard to show the collective traits or culture of a particular ethnic group and lose out on individualism. I really like Spike Lee and Carl Franklin's approach to tackling the racial subject of being black in America. "One False Movie" is one of my all-time favorite movies. Justin Lin's "Better Luck Tomorrow" is a good example about Asian American youths.

With what's going on nowadays, the identity and heritage of people with mix-race become a hot topic as well. Isn't it getting more and more difficult to keep track of all the stereotypes of different groups of people? I say that's great. If it so complicated to remember which ethnicity is supposed to be like, we can all just throw the cultural generalizations out the window and assume nothing when you meet a person for the first time. :D

Thanks, Jun. I'd include Carl Franklin's "One False Move" and "Devil in a Blue Dress" on my list of favorite (and "most important") movies about Race in America. (BTW, that's Franklin's son Marcus playing "Woody Guthrie" in "I'm Not There"!)

I don't think "Asian" is used consciously as a derogatory term in and of itself. (Except, perhaps, in those "DWA" bumper-stickers: "Driving While Asian.") But it can be used, as you say, in ways that contribute to the feeling of "being generalized, lumped into a shapeless pile of 'those people,' even if I get labeled by positive and praiseworthy assumptions."

Oddly, there are still some people who, meaning no harm, don't see how praise can be just as bigoted as condemnation when it's based solely on somebody's race. I'm not talking about the social benefits of affirmative action, but about a kind of tokenism and condescension -- often satirized by Stephen Colbert when he talks about "my black friend Alan," who is worthy of talking about on "The Colbert Report" only because Colbert can show him off to demonstrate that he's not-racist by association. When he offers his own when he delivers his hilarious "colorblind" mantra: "I don't see race," he's saying just the opposite: To claim not to "see" race is to make as many bigoted assumptions about somebody as to base assumptions on racial stereotypes. People of my parents' generation often said the same thing (echoed by Archie Bunker: "I don't care if they're green, purple or polka-dotted!"). They meant to say they weren't "prejudiced," but sometimes they wound up unwittingly revealing other race-based preconceptions they didn't even realize they felt.

I'm not sure if I am as offended by the term 'Asian' used to describe somebody's race as other people on this comment board are. Even if they've been in America for generations. After all, we use the term 'white' without a second thought and make no reference to their heritage in terms of German, Russian, Irish, etc. in descent. I don't see too much difference if I'm right in thinking that 'white' means either European or European in descent.

I have black friends who don't want to be called African-American because they are Jamaican. They do not associate themselves with African origins, and they aren't US citizens, so the term doesn't fit. "Jamaican" is more of a nationality. So they would just as soon be called "black."

JE: Interesting point, Andrew. Kind of like what I was saying about the indiscriminate use of the term "Asian" in the comments for Part I of this series. (Then there's that joke -- or maybe it really happened -- about the white beauty contestant who referred to the great African-American, Nelson Mandela...)

Oprah's 4 interviews with Jill Bolte Taylor were the first that Oprah did after Eckhart Tolle and they take everything Tolle talks about to another level. Oprah's copy of Jill's book, MY STROKE OF INSIGHT, was dog-eared and all marked up and kept reading from it the way she read from A New Earth and recommended it highly.

Oprah's recommendation was enough for me. I read My Stroke of Insight and I loved it too. This story is as inspiring as The Last Lecture or Tuesdays with Morrie - and even better, it has a Happy Ending!

I bought the book on Amazon because they have it for 40% off retail and they also had an amazing interview with Dr Taylor that I haven't seen anywhere else - Here is the Amazon link: http://www.amazon.com/My-Stroke-Insight-Scientists-Personal/dp/0670020745/ref=pd_bbs_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1211471755&sr=1-2

I read "My Stroke of Insight" in one sitting - I couldn't put it down. I laughed. I cried. It was a fantastic book (I heard it's a NYTimes Bestseller and I can see why!), but I also think it will be the start of a new, transformative Movement! No one wants to have a stroke as Jill Bolte Taylor did, but her experience can teach us all how to live better lives. Her TED.com speech was one of the most incredibly moving, stimulating, wonderful videos I've ever seen. Her Oprah Soul Series interviews were fascinating. They should make a movie of her life so everyone sees it. This is the Real Deal and gives me hope for humanity.

The best portrayal of a strong black man on film was Lawrence Cook, who pplayed the title Character, of The Spook Who Sat by the Door, an excellent film about the first black CIA agent who, upon leaving the agency moves back to Chicago to start up a cell of Revolutionaries from among the city's toughest gangs. They in turn go to other urban centers and recruit other black members into this great cell of freedom fighters, who eventually go to war with the US government. This is what real black men look like. One of my favorite lines from the movie is when his character, Dan says to pretty Willie, "This ain't about hate. It's about loving freedom."