Step in the Name of Love (Southside With You, 2016)

No one in my family has been able to see Southside With You. Yes, it is precisely because we live in a rectangle made of farmland and probably because who in their right mind would show something positive about Barack and Michelle Obama in my town? I mean really, haven’t they given the Blacks enough???

 So, when a couple of my super smart, melanin-popping friends and I realized that it was playing nearby it was an instant must...and then a week later I spontaneously saw it for a second time with artists who make me even prouder to be a part of the Black intellectual tradition. Absolutely no regrets. 

(Courtesy of the lady at the front desk, the real MVP)

  

(Courtesy of the star of my next film)

Basically, Southside With You is the perfect first date film. (And a big hint to my long line of suitors, the Violet Crown is like my favorite place in Charlottesville. Bougie and indie? Oh. It’s lit.) Or…if you’re me and my comrades, it’s just really darn cute. Seeing Black love on screen is so refreshing. It’s beautiful. It’s magical. It’s rich and its hopeful. This was especially true because the film followed our President and First Lady, Barack and Michelle Obama on their first “date.” I love stories that span a single day.

Before seeing it, I was honestly a little skeptical. I mean, really, a movie about the leader of the free world while he’s still in office? It was one of those things where I didn’t really expect much, but had to go see it to support Queen Michelle and all of her Princeton graduate slayage. Also, I’m a believer in supporting Black films in general as long as I have no deep moral or political opposition to it. I’ll want someone to support me. It’ll be my job to keep them coming back. But, I digress. 

This film made me feel the way I do when I watch Pretty in Pink. I was able to find nostalgia in lives I’ve never lived. I was rooting for them, I was curious about them. I was falling in love with our President right along with Michelle. It’s one where you just sort of sit there and smile. Its beauty is found in its simplicity--a whimsical and thoughtful exploration of a single day, one specific moment in time. 

This was a really nice break from the more serious and complex films that I have been watching, partially, because I made the choice not to over analyze this one—I desperately needed to chill. Sometimes we need a little “ohmygosh this is soooo cute!” in our lives, yeah? However, that is not to say that this film failed to offer opportunities for intellectual engagement. One of the aspects of Southside With You that I enjoyed most was the layering and intertwinement of different artistic mediums. We saw everything from Ernie Barns paintings to Do The Right Thing to free-flowing dance to African drums to Gwendolyn Brooks poetry. I like when art, especially Black art, is in conversation with other art. It speaks to our collective struggle and psyche. Visually and cerebrally, this film was an elegant collage that had the unforgettable swagger of Mr. Obama himself. 

(Courtesy of shadowandact.com)

Between the swooning, I did, however, have a few critiques. I was consistently bothered by the fact that this film made me feel claustrophobic. There were just so many tight and close-up shots. We only got wide establishing shots, which to me is a bit of a shame. As someone who lived on the Southside for a while, I think that not using the environment to inform the story is a missed opportunity. It’s in the title, after all. I’m 10 years removed from the city and still it finds a way to enter so much of my writing. The film desperately needed to open up visually. Which brings me to my second critique: this movie was way too dialogue heavy. The backstories and emotions depended far too much on words. At moments, it was like I was reading some futuristic textbook on the Obama’s lives. I also found myself thinking occasionally, “Do people really talk like that? I mean, the Obamas are the Obamas but…do people really talk like that?” Lastly, Tika Sumpter’s attempt at a Chicago accent was cringe worthy. Whereas, Parker Sawyers did a great job at integrating the President’s iconic dialect into his speech patterns, Sumpter seemed more like she was doing an unnatural impression of the First Lady. 

(Courtesy of hollywoodreporter.com)

With those things said, I’d still call the movie good, not great, but good. Cuteness can overshadow a lot. The first time I saw Southside With You it put me in that headspace where I have to go watch another cute movie (brb going to find Brown Sugar). The second time, it made me want to make art myself. And, honestly, emotional pull is a mark of success in my book. Inspiring me to create things is an even bigger mark. I wish I could have seen the rest of the Obama love story, but... well, you know how it ends. 

The Rapists That Inspire Me

This is a post about confusion. A conflict between inspiration and condemnation, art and crime, blackness and womanhood. This post is about rape. It’s funny how the things that I gravitate to, art and Blackness (whatever that means) lead me to directly confronting a part of my struggle that is often an afterthought. 

Honestly, I’ve been one of those people who has put rape and sexual assault on the social justice back burner. It’s not that I haven’t found the subject gravely important, it’s just that I’ve always seen myself as Black before I saw myself as a woman. More Black Arts Movement than Women’s Suffrage, you feel me? Maybe not. One seemed pressing, the other was a fact. Intersectionality was something that I saw as real and necessary, but never really embraced for fear of losing sight of the great Black freedom for which my people long (that sounds so dramatic, but I am so serious).

Yesterday I watched She’s Gotta Have It for a second time…at 8am in the dining hall—weird, I know. And this time when I saw it, I was captivated. It was magic. You’ll hear more about that later, but this post was on my mind.  Again, I was so deeply inspired to tell stories through film. I was like #YesAllWomen and #BlackLivesMatter all at the same time.  But by 3:00, my inspiration had taken on a dark tint. After my professor gave his lecture, I just sort of…sat there. He made it so blatantly clear that I had let Nola’s rape exist as a minor plot point instead of the central crime of the film. And it was no thanks to Spike Lee who might not have dealt with the subject seriously enough. 

(Courtesy of uptownmagazine.com)

And so naturally my mind went to Bill Cosby. Well, maybe not so naturally, my professor did put a massive picture of him his slide show. Anyways, I couldn’t shake the thought, which was jarring because I’d done such a good job of leaving it out of sight and out of mind. And now I couldn’t.

Let’s rewind a few months, shall we? Bill Cosby, once beloved comedian, America’s Dad, and the brains behind The Cosby Show and A Different World was charged with multiple accounts of rape and sexual assault. Tragic.  Now fast forward.

(Courtesy of cosbyshowcaps.tumblr.com)

I still Watch A Different World. Real talk, it’s my favorite show. When I first heard about Cosby’s crimes, I can’t tell you how thankful I was that it wasn’t taken off of Netflix (bless up!)  I still have Ron and Freddy posters in my room, I still await a love like Whitley and Dwayne’s, and I still Imagine Hillman as my alma mater. I still look for the Cosby show when I’m flipping through channels, even though I know I won’t see it anymore because what network wants to see their logo next to the name of a criminal? So what do you do when you find out the mastermind between your Black utopia is a rapist? Well, if you’re me, you politely frown upon the media’s accusations and keep singing Aretha’s theme song. 

Again. Nate Parker. I cannot even explain how excited I was for The Birth of a Nation, a film about a slave rebellion led by Nat Turner. Honestly, I still am. As writer, director, and star of the film Nate Parker casted a vision and saw it through with boldness and swagger. He wanted to tell a story that is so deeply important to out people. Nate was brilliant; Nate was a mover; Nate was a shaker; Nate was Beyond The Lights and The Great Debaters; Nate was Sundance. Nate was making strides for me. And then it happened. Another light became the darkness. Alleged rapist. 

(Courtesy of blacknerdproblems.com)

These men made the kind of artistic and cultural impact that I dream of and pray for. I saw these timely accusations as The Man trying to take us down. I didn’t pay much attention to what ignoring these things said about men who think they have the right to take me down. And to be honest, I’m still a little skeptical. It often seems like every time we build something, it’s suddenly torn down. That’s a scary thought for a dreamer. Rape is rape is rape is rape is rape. I just can’t help but think that both sides of the argument are at play here. While before I pushed one aside to keep by heroes on their pedestals, after yesterday, I can’t ignore either. 

How do I at once admire and condemn men who I first thought to build me up, but instead tear me down? It feels wrong. 

What I do know is that I’m probably going to keep watching season 4 episode 8 of A Different World on repeat. I am going to go see The Birth of a Nation.  I still think She’s Gotta Have It is brilliant and want to watch every second of b-roll that Lee ever shot. What I’m unsure of is to what degree I can admire the men who made these things. And what if I love the things I watch—what if they make my heart dance? Am I a victim of systematic silencing? Am I asleep? Am I wrong? Maybe I’m just inspired. I don’t want an answer, really. I’m just thankful that I’ve come to a place where I am forced to think about it. 

So the question for me here isn’t about whether or not rape is wrong and should be punished. The answer to that is undoubtedly yes. I guess I’m asking if you can separate an artist from their work. Can you be inspired by the paths they’ve forged even if they left destruction in their wake? Is art only a representation of its creator or does it exist as a testament to something larger? I struggle with that myself as a screenwriter, director, and playwright. And, as I come to my close (the greatest lie a preacher ever told)...I just don’t know. 

King of The Black Millennials: A Brotha Named Chadwick

Ravynn and I are here for the new Black Panther franchise. Very very here for it. One of us still wears pigtails, the other is getting her Ph.D and yet we find so much common ground in our Black Panther excitement. Our previous KOTBM posts will tell you why (yes, this is absolutely a plug to get you to read the rest of our stuff). 

I like when Black people have regal sounding names. Winston, Isabella, T’Challa…So it only makes sense that the guy giving a face to the King of Wakanda has a regal name of his own. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Chadwick Boseman. 

(courtesy of tvguide.com)

If you haven’t already guessed, I’m a really big fan and not just because homeboy looks like a Nubian prince, but because he has mad chops as an actor. Seriously. Like a lot of people, I was first introduced to Chadwick with the film 42, the Jackie Robinson biopic. Over the course of a month, a saw the movie about four times and became more impressed with each viewing. The only thing I love more than a good period piece is a good Black period piece with an actor that carry the film believably, effortlessly, and with a distinctive heroic swagger. He was charming, vulnerable, and big all at the same time. Chadwick’s performance gave me another reason to believe in us.

(Courtesy of collider.com)

Fast forward a year and Chadwick is playing…James Brown? Yeah, I thought it was kinda weird, too. But by this point, I was already a loyal fan, spouting out his full name just to prove that I knew it and you didn’t. Get On Up surprised me in a lot of ways. I never really doubted that he could play the role, but Boseman never really struck me as “funky." Even though this movie’s plot structure sort of threw me off, I believed that he was James Brown (although I think an amulet will fit him better than a perm and a fat suit).

Biopic number three for Chadwick is in production now. It’s an upcoming film called Marshall and tells the story of, you guessed it, Thurgood Marshal, NAACP Legal Defense Fund attorney and the first African-American Supreme Court Justice. My sister religiously celebrates “#ThurgoodCrushThursday,” so you know that we're beyond hype.

Are you noticing a trend here? Chadwick Boseman has amazing transformative ability. Playing a historical figure is difficult. You have to: 1) Live up to people’s expectations of a person etched in the annals of African-American history in a realistic way 2) Fulfill the writer’s mission, dispelling myths, exploring a different angle or taking a different or more in-depth and 3) If you’re a good actor, the character must exist in a way that naturally brings your own nuance to the performance. 

These are three very, very different characters that he has taken on. I mean, really, could you see Thurgood Marshall doing a split at home plate? The fact that he has taken on the roles of such different Black men speaks to his talent as an actor. He checked off all three things on my must-do list for biopic actors and did it in unique ways. Yas Chad. 

So do I think Master Chadwick can pull this off? Absolutely.

There’s no reason why an actor of this caliber can’t play a fantastical hero. We’ve already seen him flourish as two real-life ones. His background as an actor makes me hope that he will approach the franchise with the same intelligence and rigor. Chadwick’s background is important. Our Hero matters to us and therefore must be as real as Mike Brown or Emmett Till. Black youngsters need to be able to believe that this monarch from a land far away can draw near to our struggle and save us from our plight. Yeah, T’Challa is make-believe, but our troubles tangible and ever-present. We need real hope, even on the silver screen. For that, you need a fierce actor at the helm. 

(courtesy of thedailybeast.com)

 I think it’s important that the Millennials’ imaginary King first played real Black royalty. The progression of heroes says that Black pioneers slaying in the sports, entertainment, and political arenas is just as important as slaying in superhero ones. He is carrying the stories of Black game-changers with him as he takes his rightful place as King of Wakanda. Superheroes like Black Panther cannot exist in isolation. They become powerful on the shoulders of the Kwame Nkrumah’s and Simone Manuel’s and Nat Turner’s of the world that remind us how beautifully powerful we are. 

On top of that, the confirmed actors list is giving me more chills with every new name…but that’s another post for another day. Keep reading, won’t you?

(courtesy of vibe.com)

And who better to lead the on-screen charge? Chadwick Boseman is the man for the job. We have already seen him come through in Captain America: Civil War. May he lead us Wakandans with as much poise as his own name possesses and may his acting ability and experience carry cinema forward with each punch for justice. 

King of the Black Millennials: Coogler Watch

Alright class, let’s review:  the homie Ravynn Stringfield and I are so unbelievably excited about the revival of the Black Panther franchise that we decided to write a serial about it. You can catch up on "King of The Black Millennials" with Ravynn’s first post  and my first post. 

Great, now that we are all caught up, we can move on to lesson two: Coogler. (Well, actually this is less of a lesson and more of me typing, rambling, and listening to Lauryn Hill at a DC Starbucks, but we weren’t all born to be professors, right?). He is the director of the upcoming Black Panther films. 

Okay, so we all know how much I love Ryan Coogler. And if ya don’t know, now you know...

Ryan Coogler is basically who I want to be, a young Black filmmaker creating major waves in the industry. He’s a 30-year-old USC graduate who writes and directs movies that make you stop, feel, admire…then think and likely cry. I remember watching his first feature, Fruitvale Station. I felt…. I felt everything in the world for my fallen brother, for my people. Right then and there, the desire for freedom became tangible, desperate, urgent, identifiable, and real. And what really hit home for me was the fact that he made me want to get up and make something. And that’s how I started this blog (that I hopefully keep writing…pray my strength in The Lord, y’all.) For me, that’s one of the marks of a great film. When a story is told well, it awakens my inner creator and I know it’s real. 

Coogler also did this in Creed, which he co-wrote and directed and also stared Michael B(ae) Jordan. I went to see the film mainly to see Jordan, who I’ve admired as an actor since Friday Night Lights, and also to see what all of the Rocky hype was about. Confession: I’d never seen any of the Rocky films before. But what I got was far better than the colorblind, star-studded sequel that I expected. It was compelling, and motivating, and beautiful, and thoughtful. Actually, I’ve written plays (yes, plural) based on one short scene where Adonis is unbraiding Bianca’s hair. I think that Bianca, Adonis Creed’s girlfriend, played by Tessa Thompson, is one of the most well written Black female characters that I’ve seen in a long time and deserves a film of her own. Coogler strikes again. 

What I like most about him is that he’s a force to be reckoned with…and he’s only 30. Think of all the great films he’s going to make. Gee. Whiz. 

Twice now Ryan (I’ve decided that we’re on a first-name basis now) has written stories and characters that speak to our souls and directed these pieces into the annals of cinematic excellence. 

 So my question is, can he make this happen for Black Panther and override the Marvel Machine?

T’Challa (aka Black Panther) is different than Coogler's other male protagonists: Oscar Grant III and Adonis Creed are unlikely champions. But, we are expecting T’Challa to save us—we are expecting him to be a super hero. A lot of people gravitate towards the mighty, the people that they know are perfect. I tend to gravitate towards and resonate with the unlikely when it comes to stories. I think that might be true for other Black people, too. We are constantly told by the world that we can’t and often must rise above the odds instead of just existing above them. So, every time we win, it’s a feat in some way or another (and if you don’t think it’s a feat, might I wake you up with some Ta-Nehesi Coates?) So, I hope that with Black Panther, we don’t see the inherent struggles that come with being Black, all over the world, just go “poof!" The odds need to be obliterated by our hero, not by some practitioner of colorblind, unrealistic, Hollywood “magic.” Our hero needs to know. 

On the other hand, like our Ankh-wearing, Malcolm-quoting, KRS-One-listening, brothers and sisters of the 90’s, I think that we need to see kings and queens—because that’s who we are.  T’Challa is, in fact, the King of Wakanda. We saw him walking fiercely in his well-tailored suit, cloaked in royalty in Captain America: Civil War. I’d like to see more of that. It will remind us of who we are, what lineage we come from, and what we can be. That’s revolutionary.

So Marvel was like “alright, Imma get me a director who can do both."

Really, when I watch super hero movies, I’m pretty uninterested in the flashy, computer-animated action scenes. I do kind of like the scheming though. But what I find most interesting is the story behind the figures that we deem as “super.” How did they get here? How do they deal with being not quite human? Who matters to them? Why do they feel responsible for fighting the fight that they are fighting? This is where I think Coogler will excel. He can make the distant people feel close and have significance in lives far away from theirs. I’m a middle-class girl from Kansas who goes to a PWI—I’m nothing like Oscar, but in Fruitvale he felt like my brother. Coogler does a good job of conveying universally Black struggle by fleshing out very particular character. I think that this director will be able to give us the ownership of a hero that we as Black Millennials are looking for. We will know T’Challa and we will love him. 

As we saw in Creed, Ryan also convincingly gives us a champion. Aside from the actual results of the matches, we see Adonis morph into an athletically superior man with crowds of fans and his fair share of haters. He is not just a boxer, but also a great boxer on the path towards becoming even greater.  #BlackExcellence. So it seems fair to say that he is 100% capable of not only giving us T’Challa, but also an aesthetically pleasing, super-human, commercially marketable Black Panther. 

Black Millennials, we should thank Marvel for getting this absolutely right by putting our King in the hands of the very best. Better yet, let’s thank God for gifting this world with a hero of a filmmaker…THE Ryan Coogler.