NYT's Dargis and Scott on Black men in film leading to Obama.

The mainstream press is comparing icons, events or phenomena of African-American history to Barack Obama's meaning, real or symbolic, to North American culture. Each outlet is doing so in their individual ways, so that they can remind their audiences about President Barack Obama's meaning and relevance. It is rarely simple, or easy, or forgiving to try to compare the history of a people to a record of the films which were made about, for, or by them. The New York Times' film critics Manohla Dargis and A.O. Scott wrote a column that attempted this. It's also to forecast Obama's ripple effect.

Writing this kind of a column is rarely wise because is it so hard to do it well - with skill and style. This was well-written, providing vital and compelling cultural, historical and political context. In acknowledging only the titanic and iconic filmmakers and actors they omit many of the distinctive and unconventional talents. But Dargis and Scott wrote it very well, demonstrating a deep knowledge of their subjects and the critical, though conventional, players. I must level one criticism to the part that made me wince.

Referring to Obama as "only half-black" is strange and awkward. Why would you make a point of that? I doubt that I am the only multi-ethnic man of color or multiracial person who winces at that concession or quiescence. I imagine that to speculate on their reasons why they emphasized his bicultural heritage would only blow an even bigger hole in the large can of worms that that point has already opened.

A bigger question come from the proverbial left field: In the face of this fascination, it is interesting...even sobering, to have to acknowledge a morose and frightening story that reminds us of how far behind the audacity, promise and hope of which Pres. Obama is a new American symbol.

The Atlanta Journal Constitution ran a story about a documentary film that is at the Sundance Film Festival; it is vital and relevant because actor Morgan Freeman is paying for an integrated high school prom...in a Sundance documentary.

Somehow Charleston, Mississippi, where Freeman lives, has not kept pace with the rest of the United States' attitudes about people of different colors and different cultures finding friends and love among one another. The best way to summarize the crisis is to provide this excerpt from The Journal Constitution: "The heart of the film is candid interviews with black and white Charleston students, who speak passionately about the racism that lingers in their town. The filmmakers follow a core of students, among them a black boy and white girl who date despite her father's objections, a white couple whose friendship with a black youth causes them grief, and a black girl who suspects racism cost her the class valedictorian honor."

That out-dated attitude, that bizarre fear of miscegenation, must remind us of a critical - and chronic - lesson. North American culture is still immature.
Writing a well-intended, but arbitrarily organized analysis of how African-American men have been portrayed in American films in the last 50 years is interesting. Trying to connect that to Barack Obama's assent is a stretch - an interesting one.

It is morose that with a brown and biethnic man becoming the the president of the United States, that this remains.

What - or how does Dargis' and Scott's film analysis contribute to knocking down the fear and ignorance of which cultural divisions and prejudice are made? That is neither the New York Times' duty, nor Dargis', or Scott's duties. It's too important to simply be their duty. When you want the answer to the question of the ultimate responsibility, please go into your hallway, into your bedroom or into your bathroom. Look into the mirror.

A response to Sun. NYT's "Black directors look beyond their niche"

The Sunday New York Times ran a story which updated readers about the world of or progress of films made by people of African descent.

This story basically recycled the facts of how we have the same old story of snail-paced progress, which accomplishes too little and not nearly soon enough; it's like our artistic communities are jogging in place. It also begs the routine questions of when people of color are going to have enough clout and cash to consider white money as an after thought!

I don't understand why The New York Times ran the story; there is no information or news that advances this story which runs at an every-so-often frequency. The chronic questions about access and clout, about the politics of boldness or aggression vs patience, and about compelling talent pools remain.

The institutional Hollywood mentality and attitude.

Why must niche be interpreted in an ignorant and discriminating narrow way? I think this issue rests chiefly in which assumption the Hollywood's power people make about what their mainstream viewers want and will accept.

The filmmakers in the Times' article said that they have to hustle as much as their predecessors, but they hustle toward those doors that those predecessors knocked or charmed open. There's a tiny bit more access.

Where is the mass artistic and financial force that can propel bolder stories for and from communities of color? The ill economy only worsens the situation.

In pioneer African-American filmmaker Oscar Micheaux's era, the 1910's through 1940's, his conniving competitor's swindled enough money from the African-American community to trigger their suspicion and tight grips on money. That is probably the original the biggest obstacle. Even though more of our stories are being made, few of them are the kind that force viewers to think or to shift in their seats from uncomfortable thoughts.

Our media artists still fear the politio-economic consequences of making the stories and taking the stands that venture outside of easily assimilable ideas and portrayals. Those for which both Sidney Poitier and Will Smith are famous and often revered.


Where our power rests, but our aggressiveness and militancy is restless:

Will Smith, who has produced some delightful, highly-intelligent stories is simply one brother. He is also akin to the next generation of the Sidney Poitier type: neither he nor his best-loved characters make anglos shift in their seats. That's wonderful...sometimes.

When will we viewers be treated to someone whose vision, artistry, mission and style are as boldly, militant and aggressive as Spike Lee was when he came on the scene 23 years-ago? Other than Spike's 1992 "Malcolm X," Ken Burns' 2004 "Unforgiveable Blackness" provided the most high-profile presentation of a deviant and militant image of an African-American in recent memory.

The newest, latest from a college radio student.

It's hard to write consistent journal entries while you're a full-time college student and you try to file a few public radio stories in the mean time.

In the last update, in the summer, I mentioned that I had applied to be a scholar at the Third Coast International Audio Festival. I got in. It was my first time. I earned brilliant kudos for some of my stories. It wasn't all great, but a lot of it was. I met one of my role models, Ira Glass; that was surreal!

Now I am in the middle of the first cycle of the Gordon Parks High public radio project; because of that I have created a separate journal for it. Are you interested in an experiment where the University of Minnesota shows "at-risk" high school students what public radio is and how to produce basic stories using sound? Well, here's the latest update.

What will liberate filmmakers of color, like Spike Lee?!

Are you interested in or concerned about Miracle at St. Anna and why Spike Lee must still struggle to bring his proud and uncompromising views on people of color to viewers?

O.k. You love Spike Lee or you don't; whichever you feel is fine. But when you read the article in the Washington Post about how much Lee had to hustle to make his next film, Miracle at St. Anna, you have to ask how skrewy Hollywood is.

Spike Lee's She's Gotta Have It came out in 1986 and blew many people away. It was fresh.; it was new; it was made by African-Americans. After he invested two years in hustling and marketing it, he used each of the next four years to make and release a new film - Do the Right Thing and Jungle Fever, among several other - by and about black people. He earned a lot of controversy, some of it reasonable and warranted. He made himself coincidentally a role model for artistic people of color, especially African-Americans.

Is it naive or reasonable that after having made a career, a following and an irrefutable resume, he would need to hustle less because he is a known commodity, a "brand?"

As BBC News confirmed, Lee's last film, The Inside Man had the biggest opening of any film Lee had made or Washington had starred in. Still...

He should not have to do this. But there are no studios which people of color run which do films like "Miracle." Robert L. Johnson's company, Our Stories Films (part of the Weinstein Companies), is geared toward family-friendly stories, those that entertain, but barely challenge how or what you think. Anglos remain much more comfortable with watching stories about themselves than of people who may barely look like them.

In a balanced world, every one's experience and stories receive equal respect and recognition, as long as they are interesting, or amusing, or both. Few Anglos want to be reminded wrongs they or, more likely, their ancestors, committed against people of color. Many of the most important stories about communities of color must acknowledge a history of those wrongs as part of their context. This story is old, chronic; as old as Oscar Michaeux.

It remains morose that, even when people of color, especially African-Americans, want to put their stories into the wide world, they don't have a system in place. Johnson, whose Black Entertainment Television (BET) perpetuated many more problems than those which, many people thought, it was created to solve hasn't helped Lee yet. Perhaps the big question to ask is why affluent or wealthy African-Americans - those who sign peoples' checks and don't wait for someone to sign theirs - and other wealthy people of color haven't decided to make a system to shrink the stresses.

Those artists who challenge their audiences, like Lee and his peers, can focus more on their art and work and worries over money. Have Lee and his peers not given a compelling business (profit) case for supporting these films? How old and chronic is that problem?