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Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Same Script, Different Cast
[Trigger warning for racism; classism; sexual violence.]
A caveat: I have not seen "The Help." I do not plan to see "The Help," yet I feel pretty confident that I have "The Help" all figured out. If you don't know about this film, please see this post. I'm going to ground my thoughts about "The Help" in two other documents I will link: Valerie Boyd's review entitled, "'The Help,' a feel-good movie for white people" and "An Open Statement to the Fans of 'The Help'" from the Association of Black Women Historians (ABWH). A brief description from Boyd:
I. The Help's representation of [black domestic workers] is a disappointing resurrection of Mammy… [p]ortrayed as asexual, loyal, and contented caretakers of whites…—ABWH
Early on in "The Help," we hear the maids complain that they've spent decades raising little white girls who grow up to become racists, just like their mothers. But this doesn't stop Aibileen from unambiguously loving the little white girl she's paid to care for. —Boyd
When you put white women at the center of a story allegedly about black women, then the relationships between those two groups of women is filtered through the lens and desires of white women, many of whom want to believe themselves "good" to black people. That goodness will result in the unconditional love, trust and loyalty of the black people closest to them. They can remember the relationships fondly and get teary-eyed when they think of "the black woman who raised me and taught me everything." They fancy themselves as their black nanny's "other children" and privilege makes them demand the attention and affection such children would be showed.
From a post I wrote some time ago:
Indeed, with regard to the white children for whom they cared, black women often felt levels of "ambiguity and complexity" with which our "cowardly nation" is uncomfortable. Yes, my grandmother had a type of love for the children for whom she cared, but I knew it was not the same love she had for us. I think August Boatwright in the film adaptation of "The Secret Life of Bees" (another film about relationships between black and white women during the Civil Rights Era that centers a white girl) voiced this ambiguity and complexity much better. When her newest white charge, Lily, asks August if she loved Lily's mother, for whom August had also cared, August is unable to give an immediate, glowing response. Instead, she explains how the situation was complicated and the fragility of a love that grows in such problematic circumstances.
Bernestine Singley, whose mother worked for a white family, was a bit more blunt when the daughter of that family claimed that Singley's mother loved her:
Furthermore, African American domestic workers often suffered sexual harassment as well as physical and verbal abuse in the homes of white employers. —ABWH
From films like "The Help," we can't know what life for black domestic workers is/was really like because, despite claims to the contrary, it's not black domestic workers talking! The ABWH letter gives some good sources at the end, and I routinely assign readings about situations like the "Bronx Slave Market" in which black women had to sell their labor for pennies during the Depression. The nature of domestic labor is grueling, yet somehow that is always danced over in films like this.
As is the reality of dealing with poorly-paid work. In her autobiographical account, "I Am a Domestic," Naomi Ward describes white employers' efforts to pay the least money and extract the most work as "a matter of inconsiderateness, downright selfishness." "We usually work twelve to fourteen hours a day, seven days a week," she continues, "Our wages are pitifully small." Sometimes, there were no wages, as another former domestic worker explains: "I cleaned house and cooked. That's all I ever did around white folks, clean house and cook. They didn't pay any money. No money, period. No money, period."**
Additionally, the job came with few to no recognizable benefits. The federal government purposely left work like domestic labor out of the (pathetic) safety net of social security, a gift to southerners who wanted to keep domestic and agricultural workers under their thumbs. After a lifetime of share-cropping and nanny-ing, my grandmother, upon becoming unable to work, found that she was not eligible for any work-based benefit/pension program. Instead, she received benefits from the "old age" "welfare" program, disappearing her work and feeding the stereotype of black women as non-working and in search of a handout. (I want to make clear that I am a supporter of social services programs, believe women do valuable work that is un- or poorly-remunerated and ignored/devalued. So, my issue is not that she benefited from a "welfare" program but how participation in such programs has been used as a weapon against black women in a country that tends to value, above all else, men's paid work.)
The control of black people's income also paid a psychological wage to white southerners:
And what of abuse by white men? " 'The Help's' focus on women leaves white men blameless for any of Mississippi's ills," writes Boyd:
Why the silence? Well, aside from the fact that this is supposed to be a "feel good movie," when you idolize black women as asexual mammies in a culture where rape and sexual harassment are often portrayed as compliments/acknowledgements of physical beauty (who would want to rape a fat, brown-skinned woman?!), then the constant threat of sexual abuse under which many of them labored and still labor vanishes. But black women themselves have long written about and protested this form of abuse. My own grandmother told me to be careful of white boys who would try to make me "sneak around" with them and an older southern man who was a fellow grad student told me that he and other southern men believed it was "good luck" to sleep with a black woman. Here, in the words of black women, are acknowledgements of how pervasive the problem was (is):
"I remember very well the first and last work place from which I was dismissed. I lost my place because I refused to let the madam's husband kiss me... I believe nearly all white men take, and expect to take, undue liberties with their colored female servants."*
"The color of her face alone is sufficient invitation to the southern white man… [f]ew colored girls reach the age of sixteen without receiving advances from them."*
"I learned very early about abuse from white men. It was terrible at one time and there wasn't anybody to tell."**
These stories abound in works like Stephanie Shaw's What a Woman Ought to Be and Do, Paula Giddings's When and Where I Enter, Deborah Gray-White's Too Heavy a Load and other books where black women are truly at the center of the story. Black women's concern over sexual abuse is serious and readily evident, but "The Help," according to the ABWH, "makes light of black women's fears and vulnerabilities turning them into moments of comic relief."
III. The popularity of this most recent iteration [of the mammy] is troubling because it reveals a contemporary nostalgia for the days when a black woman could only hope to clean the White House rather than reside in it.—ABWH
This mention of the White House is not casual (Boyd opens her review with an Obama-era reference, as well). I'm currently working on a manuscript that examines portrayals of black women and issues of our "desirability," success, and femininity in media. To sum it up, we, apparently, are not desirable or feminine and our success is a threat to the world at large. Many black women are trying to figure out why so much is vested in this re-birthed image of us (because it's not new). One conclusion is that it is a counter to the image of Michelle Obama. By all appearances successful, self-confident, happily married and a devoted mother, she's too much for our mammy/sapphire/jezebel-loving society to take. And so, the nostalgia the ABWH mentions comes into play. It's a way to keep us "in our place."
It happens every day on a smaller scale to black women. I remember someone congratulating me in high school on achieving a 4.0 and saying that maybe my parents would take it easy on me for one-six weeks chore-wise. The white girl standing with us, who always had a snide comment on my academic success, quickly turned the conversation into one about how she hated her chores and how she so hoped the black lady who worked for them, whom she absolutely adored, would clean her room.
Even now, one of my black female colleagues and I talk about how some of our students "miss mammy" and it shows in how they approach us, both plus-sized, brown-skinned black women with faces described as "kind." I do not need to know about the black woman who was just like your grandmother, nor will I over-sympathize with this way-too-detailed life story you feel compelled to come to my office and (over)share.
IV. [T]he film is woefully silent on the rich and vibrant history of black Civil Rights activists in Mississippi. Granted, the assassination of Medgar Evers, the first Mississippi based field secretary of the NAACP, gets some attention. However, Evers' assassination sends Jackson's black community frantically scurrying into the streets in utter chaos and disorganized confusion—a far cry from the courage demonstrated by the black men and women who continued his fight.—ABWH
Embedded in this is perhaps the clearest evidence of the cowardliness of our nation. First, we cannot dwell too long on racism, in this case as exemplified in the Jim Crow Era and by its very clear effects. "Scenes like that would have been too heavy for the film's persistently sunny message," suggests Boyd. I'd go further to suggest that scenes like that are too heavy for our country's persistently sunny message of equal opportunity and dreams undeferred.
Second, when we do have discussions on the Jim Crow Era, we have to centralize white people who want to be on what most now see as the "right" side of history. They weren't just allies, they did stuff and saved us! And so, you get stories like "The Help" premised on the notion that "the black maids would trust Skeeter with their stories, and that she would have the ability, despite her privileged upbringing, to give them voice." Or like "The Long Walk Home," (another film about relationships between black and white women during the Civil Rights Era that centers… well, you get it) in which you walk away with the feeling that, yeah black people took risks during the Montgomery Bus Boycott, but the person who had the most to lose, who was bravest, was the white woman employer who initially intervened only because she wanted to keep her "help."
These stories perpetuate racism because they imply that is right and rightful that white people take the lead and speak for us. (On another note, how old is this storyline? Skeeter's appropriation of black women's stories and voices, coupled with the fact that "Skeeter, who is simply taking dictation, gets the credit, the byline and the paycheck" reminded me so much of "Imitation of Life," when Bea helps herself to Delilah's pancake recipe, makes millions from it, keeps most for herself and Delilah is… grateful?!) The moral of these stories is, where would we have been without the guidance and fearlessness of white people?
I know this moral. That's why I have no plans to see "The Help."
_______________________
*From Gerda Lerner, Black Women in White America.
**From Anne Valk and Leslie Brown, Living with Jim Crow.
_______________________
A caveat: I have not seen "The Help." I do not plan to see "The Help," yet I feel pretty confident that I have "The Help" all figured out. If you don't know about this film, please see this post. I'm going to ground my thoughts about "The Help" in two other documents I will link: Valerie Boyd's review entitled, "'The Help,' a feel-good movie for white people" and "An Open Statement to the Fans of 'The Help'" from the Association of Black Women Historians (ABWH). A brief description from Boyd:
"The Help" — the film adaptation of the best-selling novel by Atlanta author Kathryn Stockett — is a feel-good movie for a cowardly [wrt to the ways we deal (or don't deal) with issues of race] nation.And there you have it, the problem at the heart of works like "The Help" that blossoms into myriad other problems—the centering of white women in a story that is supposed to be about women of color, the positioning of white women as saviors who give WoC voice. As my colleagues in the ABWH note,
Despite its title, the film is not so much about the help — the black maids who kept many white Southern homes running before the civil rights movement gave them broader opportunities — as it is about the white women who employed and sometimes terrorized them.
Despite efforts to market the book and the film as a progressive story of triumph over racial injustice, The Help distorts, ignores, and trivializes the experiences of black domestic workers.I want to meld these critiques of "The Help" with my own, which is rooted in who I am: My name is elle, and I am a granddaughter of "The Help." And while I can never begin (and would never want) to imagine myself as the voice of black domestic workers, I can at least share some of their own words with you and tell you some places you can find more of their words and thoughts.
I. The Help's representation of [black domestic workers] is a disappointing resurrection of Mammy… [p]ortrayed as asexual, loyal, and contented caretakers of whites…—ABWH
Early on in "The Help," we hear the maids complain that they've spent decades raising little white girls who grow up to become racists, just like their mothers. But this doesn't stop Aibileen from unambiguously loving the little white girl she's paid to care for. —Boyd
When you put white women at the center of a story allegedly about black women, then the relationships between those two groups of women is filtered through the lens and desires of white women, many of whom want to believe themselves "good" to black people. That goodness will result in the unconditional love, trust and loyalty of the black people closest to them. They can remember the relationships fondly and get teary-eyed when they think of "the black woman who raised me and taught me everything." They fancy themselves as their black nanny's "other children" and privilege makes them demand the attention and affection such children would be showed.
From a post I wrote some time ago:
I hated, hated, hated that my grandmother and her sister were domestics.But, as the granddaughter of the help, I learned that the woman my grandmother's employers and their children saw was not my "real" grandmother. Forced to follow the rules of racial etiquette, to grin and bear it, she had a whole other persona around white people. It could be dangerous, after all, to be one's real self, so black women learned "what to say, how to say it, and sometimes, not to say anything, don't show any emotion at all, because even just your expression could cause you a lot of trouble."** They wore the mask that Paul Laurence Dunbar and so many other black authors have written about. It is at once protective and pleasant, reflective of the fact that black women knew "their white people" in ways white people could never be bothered to know them. These were not equal relationships in which love and respect were allowed to flourish.
Not because I was ashamed, but because of the way white people treated them and us.
Like… coming to their funerals and sitting on the front row with the immediate family because they had notions of their own importance. "Nanny raised us!" one of my aunt's "white children" exclaimed, then stood there regally as the family cooed and comforted her.
Indeed, with regard to the white children for whom they cared, black women often felt levels of "ambiguity and complexity" with which our "cowardly nation" is uncomfortable. Yes, my grandmother had a type of love for the children for whom she cared, but I knew it was not the same love she had for us. I think August Boatwright in the film adaptation of "The Secret Life of Bees" (another film about relationships between black and white women during the Civil Rights Era that centers a white girl) voiced this ambiguity and complexity much better. When her newest white charge, Lily, asks August if she loved Lily's mother, for whom August had also cared, August is unable to give an immediate, glowing response. Instead, she explains how the situation was complicated and the fragility of a love that grows in such problematic circumstances.
Bernestine Singley, whose mother worked for a white family, was a bit more blunt when the daughter of that family claimed that Singley's mother loved her:
I'm thinking the maid might've been several steps removed from thoughts of love so busy was she slinging suds, pushing a mop, vacuuming the drapes, ironing and starching load after load of laundry. Plus, I know what Mama told us when she, my sister, and I reported on our day over dinner each night and not once did Mama's love for the [white child for whom she cared] find its way into that conversation: She cleaned up behind, but she did not love those white children.II. The caricature of Mammy allowed mainstream America to ignore the systemic racism that bound black women to back-breaking, low paying jobs where employers routinely exploited them.
From films like "The Help," we can't know what life for black domestic workers is/was really like because, despite claims to the contrary, it's not black domestic workers talking! The ABWH letter gives some good sources at the end, and I routinely assign readings about situations like the "Bronx Slave Market" in which black women had to sell their labor for pennies during the Depression. The nature of domestic labor is grueling, yet somehow that is always danced over in films like this.
As is the reality of dealing with poorly-paid work. In her autobiographical account, "I Am a Domestic," Naomi Ward describes white employers' efforts to pay the least money and extract the most work as "a matter of inconsiderateness, downright selfishness." "We usually work twelve to fourteen hours a day, seven days a week," she continues, "Our wages are pitifully small." Sometimes, there were no wages, as another former domestic worker explains: "I cleaned house and cooked. That's all I ever did around white folks, clean house and cook. They didn't pay any money. No money, period. No money, period."**
Additionally, the job came with few to no recognizable benefits. The federal government purposely left work like domestic labor out of the (pathetic) safety net of social security, a gift to southerners who wanted to keep domestic and agricultural workers under their thumbs. After a lifetime of share-cropping and nanny-ing, my grandmother, upon becoming unable to work, found that she was not eligible for any work-based benefit/pension program. Instead, she received benefits from the "old age" "welfare" program, disappearing her work and feeding the stereotype of black women as non-working and in search of a handout. (I want to make clear that I am a supporter of social services programs, believe women do valuable work that is un- or poorly-remunerated and ignored/devalued. So, my issue is not that she benefited from a "welfare" program but how participation in such programs has been used as a weapon against black women in a country that tends to value, above all else, men's paid work.)
The control of black people's income also paid a psychological wage to white southerners:
[Their white employers gave] my grandmother and aunt money, long after they'd retired, not because they didn't pay taxes for domestic help or because they objected to the fact that our government excluded domestic work from social insurance or because they appreciated the sacrifices my grandmother and her sister made. No, that money was proof that, just as their slaveholding ancestors argued, they took care of their negroes even after retirement!The various forms of verbal and emotional abuse suffered are also glossed over to emphasize how black and white women formed unshakeable bonds. By contrast, Naomi Ward described the conflicted nature of her relationships with white women and being treated as if she were "completely lacking in human dignity and respect." In Coming of Age in Mississippi, Anne Moody says of her contentious relationship with her employer, Mrs. Burke, "Mrs. Burke had made me feel like rotten garbage. Many times she had tried to instill fear within me and subdue me…" Here, I wrote a bit about the participation, by white women, in the subjugation of women of color domestic workers.
And what of abuse by white men? " 'The Help's' focus on women leaves white men blameless for any of Mississippi's ills," writes Boyd:
White male bigots have been terrorizing black people in the South for generations. But the movie relegates Jackson's white men to the background, never linking any of its affable husbands to such menacing and well-documented behavior. We never see a white male character donning a Klansman's robe, for example, or making unwanted sexual advances (or worse) toward a black maid.This a serious exclusion according to the ABWH, "Portraying the most dangerous racists in 1960s Mississippi as a group of attractive, well dressed, society women, while ignoring the reign of terror perpetuated by the Ku Klux Klan and the White Citizens Council, limits racial injustice to individual acts of meanness."
Why the silence? Well, aside from the fact that this is supposed to be a "feel good movie," when you idolize black women as asexual mammies in a culture where rape and sexual harassment are often portrayed as compliments/acknowledgements of physical beauty (who would want to rape a fat, brown-skinned woman?!), then the constant threat of sexual abuse under which many of them labored and still labor vanishes. But black women themselves have long written about and protested this form of abuse. My own grandmother told me to be careful of white boys who would try to make me "sneak around" with them and an older southern man who was a fellow grad student told me that he and other southern men believed it was "good luck" to sleep with a black woman. Here, in the words of black women, are acknowledgements of how pervasive the problem was (is):
"I remember very well the first and last work place from which I was dismissed. I lost my place because I refused to let the madam's husband kiss me... I believe nearly all white men take, and expect to take, undue liberties with their colored female servants."*
"The color of her face alone is sufficient invitation to the southern white man… [f]ew colored girls reach the age of sixteen without receiving advances from them."*
"I learned very early about abuse from white men. It was terrible at one time and there wasn't anybody to tell."**
These stories abound in works like Stephanie Shaw's What a Woman Ought to Be and Do, Paula Giddings's When and Where I Enter, Deborah Gray-White's Too Heavy a Load and other books where black women are truly at the center of the story. Black women's concern over sexual abuse is serious and readily evident, but "The Help," according to the ABWH, "makes light of black women's fears and vulnerabilities turning them into moments of comic relief."
III. The popularity of this most recent iteration [of the mammy] is troubling because it reveals a contemporary nostalgia for the days when a black woman could only hope to clean the White House rather than reside in it.—ABWH
This mention of the White House is not casual (Boyd opens her review with an Obama-era reference, as well). I'm currently working on a manuscript that examines portrayals of black women and issues of our "desirability," success, and femininity in media. To sum it up, we, apparently, are not desirable or feminine and our success is a threat to the world at large. Many black women are trying to figure out why so much is vested in this re-birthed image of us (because it's not new). One conclusion is that it is a counter to the image of Michelle Obama. By all appearances successful, self-confident, happily married and a devoted mother, she's too much for our mammy/sapphire/jezebel-loving society to take. And so, the nostalgia the ABWH mentions comes into play. It's a way to keep us "in our place."
It happens every day on a smaller scale to black women. I remember someone congratulating me in high school on achieving a 4.0 and saying that maybe my parents would take it easy on me for one-six weeks chore-wise. The white girl standing with us, who always had a snide comment on my academic success, quickly turned the conversation into one about how she hated her chores and how she so hoped the black lady who worked for them, whom she absolutely adored, would clean her room.
Even now, one of my black female colleagues and I talk about how some of our students "miss mammy" and it shows in how they approach us, both plus-sized, brown-skinned black women with faces described as "kind." I do not need to know about the black woman who was just like your grandmother, nor will I over-sympathize with this way-too-detailed life story you feel compelled to come to my office and (over)share.
IV. [T]he film is woefully silent on the rich and vibrant history of black Civil Rights activists in Mississippi. Granted, the assassination of Medgar Evers, the first Mississippi based field secretary of the NAACP, gets some attention. However, Evers' assassination sends Jackson's black community frantically scurrying into the streets in utter chaos and disorganized confusion—a far cry from the courage demonstrated by the black men and women who continued his fight.—ABWH
Embedded in this is perhaps the clearest evidence of the cowardliness of our nation. First, we cannot dwell too long on racism, in this case as exemplified in the Jim Crow Era and by its very clear effects. "Scenes like that would have been too heavy for the film's persistently sunny message," suggests Boyd. I'd go further to suggest that scenes like that are too heavy for our country's persistently sunny message of equal opportunity and dreams undeferred.
Second, when we do have discussions on the Jim Crow Era, we have to centralize white people who want to be on what most now see as the "right" side of history. They weren't just allies, they did stuff and saved us! And so, you get stories like "The Help" premised on the notion that "the black maids would trust Skeeter with their stories, and that she would have the ability, despite her privileged upbringing, to give them voice." Or like "The Long Walk Home," (another film about relationships between black and white women during the Civil Rights Era that centers… well, you get it) in which you walk away with the feeling that, yeah black people took risks during the Montgomery Bus Boycott, but the person who had the most to lose, who was bravest, was the white woman employer who initially intervened only because she wanted to keep her "help."
These stories perpetuate racism because they imply that is right and rightful that white people take the lead and speak for us. (On another note, how old is this storyline? Skeeter's appropriation of black women's stories and voices, coupled with the fact that "Skeeter, who is simply taking dictation, gets the credit, the byline and the paycheck" reminded me so much of "Imitation of Life," when Bea helps herself to Delilah's pancake recipe, makes millions from it, keeps most for herself and Delilah is… grateful?!) The moral of these stories is, where would we have been without the guidance and fearlessness of white people?
I know this moral. That's why I have no plans to see "The Help."
_______________________
*From Gerda Lerner, Black Women in White America.
**From Anne Valk and Leslie Brown, Living with Jim Crow.
_______________________
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Yet Another Note on Tyler Perry...
... because a friend posted this link on my fb page.
What I said to another friend on twitter:
When I think about it, for Perry and some churches, it's an almost-perfect set-up. If you disagree with the messages, it's because you're deeply entrenched in sin, your views are tainted by "worldly" philosophies like feminism (rather than "rooted in the Bible"), or you're just angry because the pastor has "stepped on your toes."
Never is the problem the sexism/misogyny/homophobia/internalized racism* so apparent in the message. Nor, in the case of Perry, as my friend noted, is it the "minstrel show (held up as 'real') and... transvestitism played for laughs."
Previously-published reasons Tyler Perry makes me roll my eyes sometimes.
___________________________________
*I've heard some sermons that leave me wondering, "Wow, how did he seamlessly combine the Bible and the Moynihan Report like that?"
What I said to another friend on twitter:
I'm very, very bothered by the messages he puts out, particularly b/c so much of his audience is black women. it's how i feel about some blk churches. we go show our loyalty, spend our precious time and give our hard earned $ to hear everything that's wrong with us.
When I think about it, for Perry and some churches, it's an almost-perfect set-up. If you disagree with the messages, it's because you're deeply entrenched in sin, your views are tainted by "worldly" philosophies like feminism (rather than "rooted in the Bible"), or you're just angry because the pastor has "stepped on your toes."
Never is the problem the sexism/misogyny/homophobia/internalized racism* so apparent in the message. Nor, in the case of Perry, as my friend noted, is it the "minstrel show (held up as 'real') and... transvestitism played for laughs."
Previously-published reasons Tyler Perry makes me roll my eyes sometimes.
___________________________________
*I've heard some sermons that leave me wondering, "Wow, how did he seamlessly combine the Bible and the Moynihan Report like that?"
Monday, July 20, 2009
How Do They Do It? Pt 1
This post got so long, I'm going to have to put it up in parts!
One of the things I was determined to do during my brain break was engage in a little escapism, via the television. Now, I have a problem watching TV or movies outside the theater--I lose the thread of what's going on, I can't concentrate, I have an overwhelming urge to get up and do something else (I'm the same way about telephone conversations).*
Anyway, back on track--me--escapism--TV. Honestly, there's not a lot on. I found myself simultaneously craving the MJ coverage and being further saddened by it. Anyway, I thought there might be some comic relief in Tyler Perry's Meet the Browns on TBS.
Full disclosure--I didn't come to the series unbiased. I have my issues with Tyler Perry--most recently, I was so profoundly angry about the Sanaa Lathan character in The Family that Preys.
Which brings me to my first "How do they do it (and get away with it)?" question. The absolute aversion to educated, succesful black women in The Family that Preys and in T.D. Jakes's Not Easily Broken was breathtaking. I mean, I wondered who in the world had paged Sapphire!
To show how absolutely revolting Andrea (Sanaa Lathan's character) was, Perry went into overdrive. She was mean, selfish, derisive of her husband, and, the ultimate sin--a white man's whore!!! She cheated on her black husband with a white man and bore the white man's child. I don't think he could've made her any lower.
The real issue seemed to be that she had some sort of perceived power over her husband because she had a better job and more money**--but apparently, that would have been too easy to say. Andrea was totally out of her place as a woman and her world was corrupted by that.
Same thing with Clarice (Taraji Henson's character)in Not Easily Broken. There's actually a Dave (Morris Chestnut's character, Clarice's husband) monologue during which we find out that what's wrong with the world is that men have lost their place as protectors and providers, a position usurped by women who don't realize they need men. Clarice browbeats and scorns her husband; her mother is constantly there to affirm that Dave is not good enough for her daughter and they almost push him into the arms of a white woman, a mother--a role Clarice has resisted (evidence of her selfishness). It is not until Clarice's mom is revealed as a bitter meddler, Clarice meekly asks for her husband to come back, and Clarice changes her mind and becomes pregnant, that all is made right within the Dave and Clarice universe.
There was also the recurring theme in both films of irrevocably damaged black women--the women who are so hurt by one black man they can never again "appreciate" another one. Andrea was traumatized by the abandonment of her father, Clarice's mom had been abandoned by her husband. Because they didn't just get over it, their lives were ruined.
I've seen clips from Madea Goes to Jail, and Perry's insistence that women get over it was evident--one incarcerated woman was beginning to tell how she had been hurt by her stapfather and Madea interrupts to tell her, basically, that it didn't matter. Now, I think they were in a therapy session, the woman was trying to process something she had found traumatic, and she is told to get over it. So, there is this disconnect--being told to "get over it" but having the means by which one might "get over it" (therapy, talking, sharing, processing) dismissed.
I can't speak to anyone's church experience but my own, but this is part of the reason I had to distance myself from my attended-my-whole-life church. The Eve-and-Jezebel sermons, as my sister calls them, got wearying. It began to feel like an attack--pews filled with black women being told all that is wrong with us, with most of it rooted firmly in our efforts to survive and thrive. We transgressed by forgetting what our (subordinate) place should be. I don't know how Perry, Jakes, or my pastor get away with maligning so much of their audiences, ignoring criticism, and forging on in the same way--I guess because it works? I watched two episodes of Meet the Browns, didn't I?
Nothing about this critique is new, I know. I'm just working through these ideas as I try to explain, honestly, how I went into viewing "Meet the Browns" with some bias, while simultaneously admitting I have found the "Brown" character funny. Tomorrow, I really will get to the series, I promise.
________________________________________
*As a side note, at my doctor's office, I had to do this depression checklist and one of the things listed was the inability to pay attention to television, to concentrate, etc. And I burst out crying right then because I felt like, "Oh my God, it's not just me." It's been hard to read a book, write as much as I should, etc, for the longest time! After I explained that my tears were actually ones of relief, my doctor asked me about any past diagnoses of ADD, too, but she and I will have to explore that more.
**At the end of the movie, when that power thing is flipped and Andrea is living in a run-down apartment and having to accept money from her ex-husband, that is acceptable. She deserved it, after all.
One of the things I was determined to do during my brain break was engage in a little escapism, via the television. Now, I have a problem watching TV or movies outside the theater--I lose the thread of what's going on, I can't concentrate, I have an overwhelming urge to get up and do something else (I'm the same way about telephone conversations).*
Anyway, back on track--me--escapism--TV. Honestly, there's not a lot on. I found myself simultaneously craving the MJ coverage and being further saddened by it. Anyway, I thought there might be some comic relief in Tyler Perry's Meet the Browns on TBS.
Full disclosure--I didn't come to the series unbiased. I have my issues with Tyler Perry--most recently, I was so profoundly angry about the Sanaa Lathan character in The Family that Preys.
Which brings me to my first "How do they do it (and get away with it)?" question. The absolute aversion to educated, succesful black women in The Family that Preys and in T.D. Jakes's Not Easily Broken was breathtaking. I mean, I wondered who in the world had paged Sapphire!
To show how absolutely revolting Andrea (Sanaa Lathan's character) was, Perry went into overdrive. She was mean, selfish, derisive of her husband, and, the ultimate sin--a white man's whore!!! She cheated on her black husband with a white man and bore the white man's child. I don't think he could've made her any lower.
The real issue seemed to be that she had some sort of perceived power over her husband because she had a better job and more money**--but apparently, that would have been too easy to say. Andrea was totally out of her place as a woman and her world was corrupted by that.
Same thing with Clarice (Taraji Henson's character)in Not Easily Broken. There's actually a Dave (Morris Chestnut's character, Clarice's husband) monologue during which we find out that what's wrong with the world is that men have lost their place as protectors and providers, a position usurped by women who don't realize they need men. Clarice browbeats and scorns her husband; her mother is constantly there to affirm that Dave is not good enough for her daughter and they almost push him into the arms of a white woman, a mother--a role Clarice has resisted (evidence of her selfishness). It is not until Clarice's mom is revealed as a bitter meddler, Clarice meekly asks for her husband to come back, and Clarice changes her mind and becomes pregnant, that all is made right within the Dave and Clarice universe.
There was also the recurring theme in both films of irrevocably damaged black women--the women who are so hurt by one black man they can never again "appreciate" another one. Andrea was traumatized by the abandonment of her father, Clarice's mom had been abandoned by her husband. Because they didn't just get over it, their lives were ruined.
I've seen clips from Madea Goes to Jail, and Perry's insistence that women get over it was evident--one incarcerated woman was beginning to tell how she had been hurt by her stapfather and Madea interrupts to tell her, basically, that it didn't matter. Now, I think they were in a therapy session, the woman was trying to process something she had found traumatic, and she is told to get over it. So, there is this disconnect--being told to "get over it" but having the means by which one might "get over it" (therapy, talking, sharing, processing) dismissed.
I can't speak to anyone's church experience but my own, but this is part of the reason I had to distance myself from my attended-my-whole-life church. The Eve-and-Jezebel sermons, as my sister calls them, got wearying. It began to feel like an attack--pews filled with black women being told all that is wrong with us, with most of it rooted firmly in our efforts to survive and thrive. We transgressed by forgetting what our (subordinate) place should be. I don't know how Perry, Jakes, or my pastor get away with maligning so much of their audiences, ignoring criticism, and forging on in the same way--I guess because it works? I watched two episodes of Meet the Browns, didn't I?
Nothing about this critique is new, I know. I'm just working through these ideas as I try to explain, honestly, how I went into viewing "Meet the Browns" with some bias, while simultaneously admitting I have found the "Brown" character funny. Tomorrow, I really will get to the series, I promise.
________________________________________
*As a side note, at my doctor's office, I had to do this depression checklist and one of the things listed was the inability to pay attention to television, to concentrate, etc. And I burst out crying right then because I felt like, "Oh my God, it's not just me." It's been hard to read a book, write as much as I should, etc, for the longest time! After I explained that my tears were actually ones of relief, my doctor asked me about any past diagnoses of ADD, too, but she and I will have to explore that more.
**At the end of the movie, when that power thing is flipped and Andrea is living in a run-down apartment and having to accept money from her ex-husband, that is acceptable. She deserved it, after all.
Monday, February 16, 2009
(Not) Taken
I'd heard much ado about Taken. My friend Tasha invited me to see it this past weekend. "You'll like it, I promise. It stays busy!"
So I texted my sister, who'd seen it. "Go," she sent back, "Even you can watch it. Not very long and very good."
Promises that "it stays busy" and "even you can watch it" are needed because, while I love action movies, I'm not a big suspense fan. I always say my nerves can't handle it. I say that a lot--I need to quit blaming my nerves and find out why some stuff just bothers me disproportionately. Anyway, long, suspenseful movies irk me.
So I saw it. A cute girl asks you, your sister recommends it, what can you do? :-)
Rather than give a synopsis, how about I offer an analysis of some of the characters with lots of exclamation points? Spoilers below.
Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson): A poor, pitiful father who is kept from having a meaningful relationship with his daughter, Kim, because of her uppity bitch of a mother, Lenore. Really, the distance between Kim and him is only partially because of his past government job which kept him from being around. Hey, he never missed a birthday and he had to sacrifice for his country!!!!
Lenore (Famke Janssen): In short, the ex-wife of every MRA. She snaps. She belittles. She's possibly a golddigger. She doesn't even want Bryan at Kim's birthday party (she wants to erase him from her daughter's life) and scoffs at his gift of a karaoke machine. But Bryan is on point; despite the fact that Lenore was a virtual single mother and still is the custodial parent, it's Bryan who knows Kim's true heart, a heart that desires to be a singer!!!!
Lenore doesn't even understand Bryan's manly need to protect. She wants her not-very-mature (see below) 17-year-old daughter to hop across Europe following U-2 (that was so unbelievable to me. Maybe it's a rich people thing?) and thinks Bryan is paranoid and controlling.
Kim (Maggie Grace): A 17-year-old. She still giggles, jumps up and down a lot, and is mega-excited over getting a pony!!!! for her birthday!!!! Why, yes I did say 17, not seven.
Jean-Claude: A typical French man. Bryan thought he was a friend, but really he's an enemy. There's a new angle.
Eastern Europeans (various actors): Shady characters who traffic in women. You know they're the bad guys because they sweat a lot, their hair is greasy, and their eyes shift. And they've had the nerve to "progress" from trafficking in eastern European women to grabbing western white women!!!!
Virginity: The thing that Kim has (she's certified pure!!!!) that keeps her from immediately meeting the fate of all the other "besmirched" girls and makes her worth more than they. While Daddy's racing against time to prevent her permanent disappearance, it's clear that he's racing to prevent the disappearance of that particular "prize" as well. I've been thinking since I saw it, "Is that what those promises at purity balls are about?"
Sheik Raman (Nabil Massad): Your standard Middle Eastern enemy. This character made me think of Bill Napoli's comment about what he thought would "really" be a horrible rape. It's as if the facts that Kim could be trafficked, forcibly addicted to drugs, and raped were not enough. I guess the writer was savvy enough to know that people always look for what women do to invite/"increase their chances" of being raped--and Kim (and Lenore) could be blamed for lying about the nature of her trip and resisting her father's warnings. I mean, Amanda did lie about her cousins' whereabouts and look what happened to her!
Casting Sheik Raman as the rapist might tug the heartstrings of those who would say, "Really, she got herself into this" because the potential perpetrator is a fat! brown! enemy. Now, that would be a horrible rape.
Now, the movie was action-packed. I can't say I was bored. But the overarching, "Father Knows Best"/"I Told You So, Lenore" theme was a bit much for me.
So I texted my sister, who'd seen it. "Go," she sent back, "Even you can watch it. Not very long and very good."
Promises that "it stays busy" and "even you can watch it" are needed because, while I love action movies, I'm not a big suspense fan. I always say my nerves can't handle it. I say that a lot--I need to quit blaming my nerves and find out why some stuff just bothers me disproportionately. Anyway, long, suspenseful movies irk me.
So I saw it. A cute girl asks you, your sister recommends it, what can you do? :-)
Rather than give a synopsis, how about I offer an analysis of some of the characters with lots of exclamation points? Spoilers below.
Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson): A poor, pitiful father who is kept from having a meaningful relationship with his daughter, Kim, because of her uppity bitch of a mother, Lenore. Really, the distance between Kim and him is only partially because of his past government job which kept him from being around. Hey, he never missed a birthday and he had to sacrifice for his country!!!!
Lenore (Famke Janssen): In short, the ex-wife of every MRA. She snaps. She belittles. She's possibly a golddigger. She doesn't even want Bryan at Kim's birthday party (she wants to erase him from her daughter's life) and scoffs at his gift of a karaoke machine. But Bryan is on point; despite the fact that Lenore was a virtual single mother and still is the custodial parent, it's Bryan who knows Kim's true heart, a heart that desires to be a singer!!!!
Lenore doesn't even understand Bryan's manly need to protect. She wants her not-very-mature (see below) 17-year-old daughter to hop across Europe following U-2 (that was so unbelievable to me. Maybe it's a rich people thing?) and thinks Bryan is paranoid and controlling.
Kim (Maggie Grace): A 17-year-old. She still giggles, jumps up and down a lot, and is mega-excited over getting a pony!!!! for her birthday!!!! Why, yes I did say 17, not seven.
Jean-Claude: A typical French man. Bryan thought he was a friend, but really he's an enemy. There's a new angle.
Eastern Europeans (various actors): Shady characters who traffic in women. You know they're the bad guys because they sweat a lot, their hair is greasy, and their eyes shift. And they've had the nerve to "progress" from trafficking in eastern European women to grabbing western white women!!!!
Virginity: The thing that Kim has (she's certified pure!!!!) that keeps her from immediately meeting the fate of all the other "besmirched" girls and makes her worth more than they. While Daddy's racing against time to prevent her permanent disappearance, it's clear that he's racing to prevent the disappearance of that particular "prize" as well. I've been thinking since I saw it, "Is that what those promises at purity balls are about?"
Sheik Raman (Nabil Massad): Your standard Middle Eastern enemy. This character made me think of Bill Napoli's comment about what he thought would "really" be a horrible rape. It's as if the facts that Kim could be trafficked, forcibly addicted to drugs, and raped were not enough. I guess the writer was savvy enough to know that people always look for what women do to invite/"increase their chances" of being raped--and Kim (and Lenore) could be blamed for lying about the nature of her trip and resisting her father's warnings. I mean, Amanda did lie about her cousins' whereabouts and look what happened to her!
Casting Sheik Raman as the rapist might tug the heartstrings of those who would say, "Really, she got herself into this" because the potential perpetrator is a fat! brown! enemy. Now, that would be a horrible rape.
Now, the movie was action-packed. I can't say I was bored. But the overarching, "Father Knows Best"/"I Told You So, Lenore" theme was a bit much for me.
Saturday, December 06, 2008
Movie Question
I decided last night to order "The Wire," beginning with season one.
No, I've never seen it, not one episode.
But hold your gasps until I ask my question for the weekend!
"The Wire" isn't the only apparently huge hole in my tv/film life. My students were shocked, SHOCKED!! that I have seen none of the "Star Wars," "E.T.," or "Indiana Jones" films.
Off the top of my head, also unseen: "Boyz in the Hood" (I pieced that together from various clips and people's stories of the film), "Do the Right Thing," any "American Pie," "Citizen Kane," "Rocky I through MMXLV" or whatever, "Love Jones" which I began and couldn't get into, to be honest, "Love and Basketball" in sequential order, "Fatal Attraction," "Gone with the Wind" (don't want to), any episode of "Grey's Anatomy," or "Lost" and I'm stopping there, whew.
So what's the gaping hole in your motion picture repertoire?
No, I've never seen it, not one episode.
But hold your gasps until I ask my question for the weekend!
"The Wire" isn't the only apparently huge hole in my tv/film life. My students were shocked, SHOCKED!! that I have seen none of the "Star Wars," "E.T.," or "Indiana Jones" films.
Off the top of my head, also unseen: "Boyz in the Hood" (I pieced that together from various clips and people's stories of the film), "Do the Right Thing," any "American Pie," "Citizen Kane," "Rocky I through MMXLV" or whatever, "Love Jones" which I began and couldn't get into, to be honest, "Love and Basketball" in sequential order, "Fatal Attraction," "Gone with the Wind" (don't want to), any episode of "Grey's Anatomy," or "Lost" and I'm stopping there, whew.
So what's the gaping hole in your motion picture repertoire?
Friday, December 05, 2008
Movie Day
You know, I usually observe my hallowed Friday evenings with a book, a good dinner, and alcohol.
Tonight, however, I want to go to the movies. Because of recent, juvenile company, I have seen Madagascar 2 and Bolt. My son and I went to see Twilight. The only movies I want to see are Milk and Cadillac Records.
I read wonderful reviews for Milk, then found out it wasn't playing here. I'm about desperate enough to ask them to arrange a private screening in my garage or something.
I live 20+ miles from the historically black section of town, a fact that has been made painfully obvious to me by 1) The search for a barber and hair stylist 2) The search for a church for my mom to attend on my birthday 3) The fact that Cadillac Records is not playing anywhere within 12 miles of my house (and I live less than half a mile from one theater), even at theaters with 20+ screens! Can't decide if I'm motivated to drive that far in the cold (don't ask; it makes sense in my head).
My son votes for Punisher or Transporter. I am glad votes don't count in the U.S. until one is 18.
Any suggestions?
Tonight, however, I want to go to the movies. Because of recent, juvenile company, I have seen Madagascar 2 and Bolt. My son and I went to see Twilight. The only movies I want to see are Milk and Cadillac Records.
I read wonderful reviews for Milk, then found out it wasn't playing here. I'm about desperate enough to ask them to arrange a private screening in my garage or something.
I live 20+ miles from the historically black section of town, a fact that has been made painfully obvious to me by 1) The search for a barber and hair stylist 2) The search for a church for my mom to attend on my birthday 3) The fact that Cadillac Records is not playing anywhere within 12 miles of my house (and I live less than half a mile from one theater), even at theaters with 20+ screens! Can't decide if I'm motivated to drive that far in the cold (don't ask; it makes sense in my head).
My son votes for Punisher or Transporter. I am glad votes don't count in the U.S. until one is 18.
Any suggestions?
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Silence Broken: Korean Comfort Women
Has anyone seen the film Silence Broken: Korean Comfort Women by Dai Sil Kim-Gibson? Do you know where I can get a copy? My computer has labeled her site as "dangerous to your computer" and won't let me in. Plus, given my computer issues, I am hesitant to do so.
On preliminary search, I see that the book is available, but not the film at places like Amazon. My PBS search--PBS aired the film--is proving fruitless (of course, I don't know how to find anything at PBS--I stumble upon stuff there).
I found this website, which lists the price of the film as $265 which definitely means it goes on my list of "films to ask the department to buy," but I wanted the opinions of people who might have seen it first.
I've never thought about it, but given my fascination with the Civil War home front, the exploitation of women during WWII, all aspects of the Vietnam War, how I think so often about the stories from The Greatest Silence, and what is being revealed, piece by piece, about the abuse of women in Iraq, I think I'd like to develop a class on women and war.
On preliminary search, I see that the book is available, but not the film at places like Amazon. My PBS search--PBS aired the film--is proving fruitless (of course, I don't know how to find anything at PBS--I stumble upon stuff there).
I found this website, which lists the price of the film as $265 which definitely means it goes on my list of "films to ask the department to buy," but I wanted the opinions of people who might have seen it first.
I've never thought about it, but given my fascination with the Civil War home front, the exploitation of women during WWII, all aspects of the Vietnam War, how I think so often about the stories from The Greatest Silence, and what is being revealed, piece by piece, about the abuse of women in Iraq, I think I'd like to develop a class on women and war.
Monday, September 08, 2008
Things Seen Six
We went to Hollywood Video on Saturday--my son proclaimed it family movie night. We don't even have a DVD player--he broke the one that was on the TV in my bedroom over a year ago and I'm not much of a TV/movie-at-home fan.* There are very few movies that I want to see more than once, so I don't by DVDs at all. I have a Netflix account for documentaries and the like to show clips to my class.
Netflix is actually one of the reasons I agreed to go--I've had a couple of episodes of "The West"** in queue for weeks and, while the site says "available now," the Netflix gods keep sending stuff further down the queue. This week, I'm lecturing on the Gilded Age, including westward expansion and the wholesale screw-over of Native Americans, and hoped Hollywood Video might have something. They didn't.
All that to say, as my son and I walked around the new releases wall, I saw "The Other Boleyn Girl." I knew Alex liked it and the store recommended it. In fact, here is the recommendation:
Yes, after that, I immediately wanted to grab it... or a WWE video.
_________________________________
*He reasoned that we could gather 'round the laptop screen. I guess I'll have to buy a DVD player eventually, sigh. And new TVs--the one that used to be in my living room is a 27-inch one my sister and I bought at a pawn shop in 1996. In our last apartment, we just said fuck it and had no living room TV. I pulled out the old trusty for the move, but I don't even have the cable box hooked to it yet.
**I'm sorry, as drama-rama as it is, I love Ken Burns's "The Civil War" series, and while I don't adore "The West," it serves the purpose.
Netflix is actually one of the reasons I agreed to go--I've had a couple of episodes of "The West"** in queue for weeks and, while the site says "available now," the Netflix gods keep sending stuff further down the queue. This week, I'm lecturing on the Gilded Age, including westward expansion and the wholesale screw-over of Native Americans, and hoped Hollywood Video might have something. They didn't.
All that to say, as my son and I walked around the new releases wall, I saw "The Other Boleyn Girl." I knew Alex liked it and the store recommended it. In fact, here is the recommendation:
Yes, after that, I immediately wanted to grab it... or a WWE video.
_________________________________
*He reasoned that we could gather 'round the laptop screen. I guess I'll have to buy a DVD player eventually, sigh. And new TVs--the one that used to be in my living room is a 27-inch one my sister and I bought at a pawn shop in 1996. In our last apartment, we just said fuck it and had no living room TV. I pulled out the old trusty for the move, but I don't even have the cable box hooked to it yet.
**I'm sorry, as drama-rama as it is, I love Ken Burns's "The Civil War" series, and while I don't adore "The West," it serves the purpose.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Reason Number 63589 This Blog Must Stay (Relatively) Pseudonymous
So that I can say things like this:
1. Right now, I am sleepy and my bra is so tight, it feels as if the strap is trying to fuse with my skin.
2. I am so looking forward to American Gangster. Denzel, Common, Idris Elba, and Chiwetel Ejiofor on one screen?
I'ma have to take a towel--but not for tears :-p
1. Right now, I am sleepy and my bra is so tight, it feels as if the strap is trying to fuse with my skin.
2. I am so looking forward to American Gangster. Denzel, Common, Idris Elba, and Chiwetel Ejiofor on one screen?
I'ma have to take a towel--but not for tears :-p
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Damn! Even the Default Robots Are Male.
I went to see Transformers.
I came home and started reading up on it (yes, on a Saturday night).
Script writer Robert Orci on why Arcee, a "female" Autobot did not appear in the film:
1) All transformers are supposed to be the same (and, of course, male) so Arcee didn't fit?
2) Since women's primary purpose is sex object-ness and the (default male) transformers don't seem to have sexual urges, so Arcee didn't fit?
3) Since this was a movie about male figures engaging in the age-old battle to decide the fate of the world, Arcee didn't fit? (You know, let teh menfolk hash out the important stuff, then bring in the women?)
All theories aside, I really don't understand what he meant.
I came home and started reading up on it (yes, on a Saturday night).
Script writer Robert Orci on why Arcee, a "female" Autobot did not appear in the film:
I would have liked to see Arcee, but the idea of a female Transformer needs its own explanation, and there just wasn't going to be enough time. It would have been like, "Oh, that's convenient. They're trying to appease women with a pink Transformer."Okay, is he saying:
1) All transformers are supposed to be the same (and, of course, male) so Arcee didn't fit?
2) Since women's primary purpose is sex object-ness and the (default male) transformers don't seem to have sexual urges, so Arcee didn't fit?
3) Since this was a movie about male figures engaging in the age-old battle to decide the fate of the world, Arcee didn't fit? (You know, let teh menfolk hash out the important stuff, then bring in the women?)
All theories aside, I really don't understand what he meant.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
help... weak... need... food
So, Sis and I are waiting anxiously to go out to dinner. But since I struck a deal with the devils last night, we can't.
See, the kids get to watch TV Friday and Saturday night. They'd made big plans to watch Jump In on Disney last night. But, I had errands to run and Sis was out so they had to go with me. I promised they could watch it tonight.
**sigh**
Around 7:40, I gave up the battle and started watching it with them. KeKe Palmer reminds me so much of my sister, so I have a soft spot for her. And Corbin Bleu is taking over the role the lead character in High School Musical played--boy who tries to do something labeled decidedly non-manly and is harrassed for it.
My first impression? Damn, it's bad enough 99% of the Disney cartoons have main characters with dead and missing moms; must Corbin's mom be dead, too? What is it about us mamas that's so horrible and prohibitive-of-character-development?
See, the kids get to watch TV Friday and Saturday night. They'd made big plans to watch Jump In on Disney last night. But, I had errands to run and Sis was out so they had to go with me. I promised they could watch it tonight.
**sigh**
Around 7:40, I gave up the battle and started watching it with them. KeKe Palmer reminds me so much of my sister, so I have a soft spot for her. And Corbin Bleu is taking over the role the lead character in High School Musical played--boy who tries to do something labeled decidedly non-manly and is harrassed for it.
My first impression? Damn, it's bad enough 99% of the Disney cartoons have main characters with dead and missing moms; must Corbin's mom be dead, too? What is it about us mamas that's so horrible and prohibitive-of-character-development?
Friday, December 29, 2006
Dreamgirls
We went to see it Wednesday. Whatever you've heard--good, bad, mixed--trust me:
Hearing "And I Am Telling You" ripped like that--that alone is worth the ticket price!
Hearing "And I Am Telling You" ripped like that--that alone is worth the ticket price!
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