EW to Tyler Perry: Do You Care About Black People?

Earlier this week Entertainment Weekly posted an article online that sought to answer the question: Is Madea bad for Black America? In my experience with Entertainment Weekly, it's not too often that they engage social politics, especially as it relates to race, so I think it's refreshing to see the publication exercising a bit of social consciousness. And the article isn't half bad either. I won't pretend like EW breaks any new ground in their dissection of Tyler Perry's films and their subsequent success, but the article does manage to offer one interesting point of thought:

"Tyler Perry understands that much of his audience is African-American women — the most ignored group in Hollywood — so he's doing movies that speak to them. You could see these films as parables or fables. There's a black prince figure who shows up for black women who've been frustrated, unhappy, or abused. That's the real reason critics don't like Perry's movies: They're made for churchgoing, working-class black women."

Most people that know me know that I have a love/hate relationship with Tyler Perry. I've seen Family Reunion and Why Did I Get Married? (Janet!) in theaters, saved The Family that Preys for rental, and watched Diary of a Mad Black Woman on TBS, or something. So yeah, I've put money in the man's pockets. But, without even approaching the argument that Perry's films depict the Black community from a heavily-stereotyped perspective that no white directer could ever get away with, my biggest issue with all of Perry's film had previously been their predictably and overall staleness. You can only witness so many drug-addicted prostitutes find Jesus before you start wanting more from life. However, reading the above quote from EW's article made me realize that Perry's approach to female characterization is much more problematic.

Now, I'm not a "churchgoing, working-class black women," but if I was, I'd like to think I'd be pissed off after watching a Perry film. I remember finishing Why Did I Get Married? and thinking, damn, he just threw all of these women under a bus.

I can't think of a single female character in that film that ever has a fighting chance at coming out of that ski cabin with a slice of self-respect, not even Jill Scott. If Perry's film's are for working-class women, then why would those same women feed into a storyline that belittles their ambition? From Sharon Leal's character, who secretly has her tubes tied without telling her husband so that she might excel in the workplace, to Janet Jackson's, who forgets to properly secure her infant son into his car seat while rushing home from work, Perry makes it clear that these women can't balance a career with the demands of domesticity. Yes, Tasha Smith's character runs a successful hair salon, but she also emasculates her significant other in the process. The only woman not directly at fault for the trouble in her marriage is Jill Scott's character, who is conveniently unemployed.

And if Perry's message is aimed toward churchgoing women, then what about the fact that Scott's character can't even manage to function for a few months after leaving her husband. Instead of seeking comfort in her faith, and herself, she immediately remarries, and any sense of confidence that she gains by the end of the film is in direct relation to the amount of love she is shown by her new husband.

The only woman with any real agency in Perry's films is Madea, and she's played by a man.

The gender politics in Why Did I Get Married? are handled irresponsibly, and ultimately just cast modern women in a unflattering light, as if any sort of personal or professional advancement must come at the expense of a happy home. The notion that a woman can't pursue her individual goals without falling short as a wife and mother is so dated at this point, that Perry should be taken to immediate task for just being plain lazy.

And if Married isn't enough, check any of his other films. Sanaa Lathan plays a self-centered career woman in The Family that Preys, and her storyline even comes with the assumption that she would not have made it nearly as far in the workplace without engaging in a long-term affair with her boss. I'm sure the same churchgoing audience that was left gasping when Blair Underwood's character slapped his fiance in Family Reunion, was cheering when Lathan's character was backhanded over a serving counter by her husband in Preys. Even his casual approach toward domestic violence would seem to suggest that Perry doesn't have the best interest of his female characters in mind at all, but instead would rather go for shock value in pursuit of a stronger box office performance.

The fact that Perry is on his way toward surpassing John Singleton and the Hughes brothers as one of the most financially successful contemporary Black filmmakers is disheartening, to say the least. Films like Higher Learning may not have been perfect, but they were far more socially ambitious and responsible; and you know, good.

I get so tired of hearing people say that one shouldn't knock the man's hustle, when in reality, his hustle is only perpetuating the marginalization of Black Hollywood. You can't tell me Angela Basset had any business starring in Meet the Browns. Our Black actresses are taking these roles because they don't have any other options, which would be fine if Perry actually presented them with material that matched their talent. But it doesn't matter how many #1 films Perry produces, he still won't be able to carry his actresses to mainstream, Halle Berry fame; not because they don't deserve it, but because he's not opening any new doors in his quest for millions. The players in Perry's world are circumstantial. Gabrielle Union is interchangeable with Kimberly Elise as far as mainstream audiences are concerned, and Tarij P. Henson received a career boost from Benjamin Button, with Preys acting as more of a side-hustle. It's hard to respect a hustle that leaves its supporting players in the dust, and while it may not be entirely Perry's fault that his actresses aren't achieving mainstream sustainability, I don't think he's too concerned with giving them the films to get them there either.

Tyler Perry is in a unique position to sell Black films to diverse audiences, but what good is that increased exposure to the Black experience if it's presented through such a predictable and limited lens?

Notorious Lazy in Depiction of Lil' Kim

I finally had the chance to see Notorious this weekend, and while it's difficult for biopics to be surprising, I still found myself enjoying the film overall. The interesting thing about retelling someone's life, be in book or on film, is the fact that no matter how well you handle the material you'll always be hampered by a third-person handicap that inevitably makes the final product more of an interpretation and less of a reality. In that regard, I would argue that Notorious was lazy in its interpretation, as it offered plenty of material and very little depth. You don't leave Notorious with any new insight into Biggie than you would glean from a Wikipedia article, and that's a bit disappointing. But, that's not what this post is about.

Aside from Biggie's life on the street, and his eventual rap career, a majority of the story told in Notorious centers around his relationships with various women: from his mother and daughter, to Faith Evans and Lil' Kim. While Biggie is certainly depicted as the womanizer he has since been characterized as, via third-person commentary (Kim, Faith, Charli), we also see a side of him that harbored the utmost respect for his mother, and a desire for his daughter to avoid becoming the sort of woman that he was used to taking advantage of. In that regard, there is some diversity in Biggie's treatment of women throughout the film. But what stood out to me most wasn't Biggie's attitude toward women, but how the women in his life responded to that attitude: namely Lil' Kim.

In the weeks preceding the release of Notorious, Kim told various news sources how disappointed she was by her depiction in the film, saying “The film studio and producers involved were more concerned about painting me as a ‘character’ to create a more interesting story line instead of a person with talent, self-respect and who was able to achieve her own career success through hard work."

Based on viewing the film, there's a lot of merit to Kim's argument.

Before viewing the film, a number of people told me how excited they were to go see "Lil' Kim" act like a hoe. This didn't surprise me, as she's spent the better part of her career cultivating that same image for herself. While I'll certainly agree that there's nothing wrong with a woman openly engaging her sexuality, Lil' Kim does so with the explicit intent of engaging men and turning heads, which she would seem to do in an effort to garner commercial attention. That's not progressive, it's tacky. For that reason, I won't comment on the whole of Lil' Kim, but I will approach her depiction in Notorious.

I'll preface this by saying, I don't know Lil' Kim. My entire impression of her is shaped by public domain, and the Kim I'm commenting on in this blog is as seen on film.

That being said, I certainly don't think it's fair to characterize Lil' Kim as a hoe based on what we see in Notorious. Yes, Kim has sex with Biggie fairly soon after meeting him, and yes she spends more time in the movie taking her clothes off, or putting them back on than she does actually speaking, but all of that is subjective. Sexuality is not about appropriating one's behavior to suit social expectations, and in that regard Lil' Kim has as much right to fuck Biggie within five minutes of knowing him, as the next girl has to wait until marriage. Sexual exploits does not a hoe make, but rather loss of self-worth and respect. With that being said, the film doesn't take the time to consider Kim's worth from her perspective at all, so calling her a hoe based on what we're given is far from apt, and really just lazy.

Instead, I would argue that Kim is a sentimental character. She comes to Biggie looking for protection, and without her even asking, he promises it to her. We're led to believe that upon meeting Biggie, Kim is at a place in her life where she needs someone to lean on, and I don't feel like it's appropriate to fault her for falling for the dream he was selling. It doesn't seem like Kim is looking for a come up, or to take advantage of Biggie in any way. We're given the impression that she comes looking for affection; and when he makes it so readily available, why wouldn't she believe that it's genuine?

More than that, the film also suggests that Biggie more or less dropped Kim instantly for Faith, and that sudden lost of interest, paired with their continued sexual relationship makes it understandable that Kim would have some animosity toward Evans, and find it difficult to walk away from Biggie. Kim never justifies the title of home-wrecker in the film, as the tension Between her, Faith, and Biggie is more a product of his selfish behavior.

That's Lil' Kim as presented by the plot, but it's important to acknowledge what goes on between the lines, and perhaps that's what best supports Lil' Kim's argument about her negative depiction in the film.

It's a problem that we see Kim's breasts in the movie nearly an hour before we actually hear her name. If one were to view the movie without any prior knowledge of Biggie, and his life and legacy, it would be easy to assume that Kim was just some random girl from the hood for the first half of the film. It's more of a problem that the whole of Kim's identity is shaped in the single moment that sees Biggie telling her to trade in hardcore lyrics for explicit sex appeal, which changes her entire character angle in a single moment. Of all the women in Biggie's life, Kim is never given any agency, nor sense of self, so that in the end her character is flat and pitiful, and doesn't function as anything more than sexual gratification, both in plot and for the audience. Many will be quick to assert that this is an accurate portrayal, but it'd be remiss to suggest that even the most hapless of hoes doesn't have some sort of depth or personality.

I would argue that Kim's portrayal in the film is less of an insult to her, and more of a comment on how apt our society is to generalize individuals for the sake of comfort. I don't believe Notorious' filmmakers knew how to approach Lil' Kim's presence in Biggie's life, and instead of rising to a challenge, they fell back on public perception and speculation. And while I would argue that it was irresponsible for them to do so, audience anticipation and response to Kim's character suggest that they were only giving the fans what they wanted; which, to say the least, is really saddening.

I don't too much care for Lil' Kim, but I like to think that I respect women enough to acknowledge that her portrayal in Notorious isn't an insult to hoes, but instead a marginalization of feminine sexuality that ultimately harms the entire sex.

I Wasn't Blogging When This Picture Was Relevant, So Technically I'm Not Late...Just Vintage?

I don't know shit about photography, but I can recognize a good picture when I see it.

Back in 1999, leading into 2000, when Angelina was just the hot chick who dated her brother, I loved her. Her whole brooding, occasionally Gothic chic look, paired with her notorious Daddy issues worked for me, which probably says something about my own issues, but that's neither here nor there. In 2009 however, increasingly-domesticated and randomly good-willed, save-the-world-one-baby-at-a-time Angelina just annoys me, for a myriad of reasons. It's not just that she's boring, but also that she's so publicly good-hearted. Anyone can assist in curing international famine, but only Angelina has to do so by becoming the goodwill ambassador for an entire nation. Boo you, and your incredibly sexy demeanor.

In all of my loss of interest in Jolie, I had forgotten why she's considered such a sex symbol. Obviously men are all on it, but even a surprising amount of straight women will openly admit to their willingness to hop right in the sack with Jolie too. While I think she's frightening in a prang mantis, eat your head off after you've mated sort of way, this picture reminds me that despite her ever escalating annoyingness (my blog, my word), Jolie does posses the sort of classic beauty that qualifies her as much more than simply sexy.

I've seen Jolie wear much less and still not look nearly as appealing as she does in this quarter length shot. The cleavage is hard to ignore, but her eyes are what hold your attention. And, as much as I would love to argue that Jolie's lips are overrated, this picture won't let me. Parted just enough to escape a pout, but too little to qualify as a smile, her mouth is nearly a work of art in itself, and I'm sure she's fully aware of that. Jolie looks every bit the movie star on this cover, offering the sort of relaxed glamor that most contemporary actresses can't pull off nearly as well.

Still Team Jen all day.

Will Smith’s Seven Pounds Sucks

While on Oprah to promote Seven Pounds, Will Smith said that he's decided to make sure that everything he does in his life since turning 40 is done with purpose. Clearly he signed on for Seven Pounds while he was still 39.

Will Smith has become so pretentious in his success. There's no way he read the script for Seven Pounds and thought that the film was at all necessary to complete. Despite it's more than two-hour runtime, the film manages to accomplish absolutely nothing of relevance. Sure, the sentiment is nice, but the logic is non-existent, and in the end Seven Pounds only seeks to further satisfy Smith's desperate Oscar ambitions.

Don't get me wrong, Smith is an exceptional actor. He's shown an almost remarkable amount of growth since his Fresh Prince days, and has become one of the most dependable leading men of contemporary cinema. But sadly for Smith, dependable has become nearly synonymous with predictable, as the actor increasingly relies on the same roles in the same films to sustain his level of box office success. Seven Pounds is The Pursuit of Happyness. The logistics may differ, but the aim is still the same, and so is Smith's onscreen presence.

Seven Pounds isn't a bad film, it's just not the film as advertised. It's not even the film that it thinks it is. While trailers and interviews will have you believe that Seven Pounds is a life-changing (or affirming) tour de force, in reality it's just a predictable waste of time. Perhaps it would be easier to take the film as is, disregarding all of the hype and pretense, if it didn't take itself as seriously as it does. The plot creeps along tediously as if it's satisfying you with every second, offering brief bits of foreshadowing via flashbacks (a la I Am Legend), before abruptly climaxing all over the place, and inevitably only getting itself off. In that regard, it's like paying to watch someone masturbate…for hours.

As for anyone looking to see Will Smith "change his life in 7 seconds," trust me, it's hardly worth wasting your own for two hours. If you're paying attention from the beginning, the film's twist ending is obvious within the first 30 minutes, and even if you haven't figured it out by the time it happens, you'll retroactively realize you were giving the film too much credit, and the ending is as predictable as you told yourself it couldn't be.

Rosario Dawson turns in a very strong performance, and further demonstrates why she's one of the most underrated actresses of the moment. She's too good for this film. Hell, even the dog that accompanies her ailing character is too good for this mess. Dawson's career has barely recovered from the last time she co-starred with Smith in Men in Black II, and I'm not sure she'll survive round two.

I knew I should have saved $7.50 for Benjamin Button.

Columbus Short Standout Amongst Cast of Cadillac Records

I saw Cadillac Records this weekend, and while I won't take the time to review the film, I do want to comment on how outstanding Columbus Short was in his portrayal of harmonica legend Little Walter. Though I've seen Short onscreen twice before, in Stomp the Yard and last year's This Christmas, I hadn't really taken notice of his talent. So, imagine my surprise when the former choreographer and back-up dancer managed to parlay his supporting role into what should surely be a star-making performance for the up-and-coming actor.

Most audiences won't go to see Cadillac Records with Columbus Short in mind, as his previous films have done little to showcase his actual talent. However, Short refuses to take a backseat in Cadilliac Records, as he carries his supporting role right to the front of the generally well-cast vehicle. Even younger audiences who probably won't be very familiar with Little Walter's legacy will find Short's portrayal of the alcoholic and often volatile bluesman impressive. Short's performance is dark and incendiary in all of the right places, and just as funny and light-hearted when it needs to be. As Little Walter transitions from a street-smart teen suffering from the lack of a stable family, to a substance abusing star desperate to hold on to his waning fame, Short handles the material with the character-acting instinct and intuition of a veteran, easily stealing nearly every scene in which he's featured. And while many are anticipating Oscar buzz to surround one of Cadillac Records' bigger stars; I wouldn't be surprised if Short delivers another Dreamgirls upset.

Elsewhere in the film, Gabrielle Union delivers a wonderfully demure portrayal of a truly desperate housewife, while Beyonce turns in a better than expected performance as haunted living-legend Etta James. Though Knowles is still stiff and unconvincing in her approach toward everyday material, she was surprisingly impressive in scenes that called for her to exercise a little more dramatic skill.

I'll give credit where it's due.

Oh, and Mos Def as Chuck Berry was golden!