The business of Hollywood never bores me. Some try to down play it as insignificant fluff, but I believe it’s just as important as politics, packs the power of some religions, and is one of the most lucrative industries in the world. Also, how could you dump on a product that entertains, nourishes the imagination and, in these scary and uncertain times, provides an endless and joyous escape for so many millions?
It wasn’t always so mindless or fun for black folk. In the early 1900s the first images of African Americans were minstreled, lampooned and black faced in film and TV. Then, we mostly butlered and domesticated our way into the decades of the 30s and 40s. But then, like a shining black ray of promise rising from the west, Sidney Poitier emerged and single-handedly staged his own civil rights revolution in Hollywood. Poitier forced an industry to not judge him by the color of his skin, but by the content of his characters. He injected nobility and dignity into the portrait of the black man. And Poitier was living, walking, and celluloid proof that all men were created equal.
But let’s temporarily put the history lesson aside for now. Image, likeness, and depiction is everything that represents who we are. And while we can’t shake the hand of each individual person around the world, these larger than life images on the big and small screen break the fourth wall and do that for us with every sitcom in syndication, movie on cable, DVD sold or big box office release. These 30-minute to one hour to 90-minute to two-hour talkies, have become our ambassadors and calling cards. While early screen history— Birth of a Nation— showed what a detrimental tool this could be, the evolution since has been mostly dazzling. Consider just a sampling of the luminaries in the Genesis of Black Hollywood (and this is a very abridged Cliff’s notes version— several have been omitted for the sake of space) Poitier begat Denzel Washington, Redd Foxx begat Richard Pryor who begat Eddie Murphy who begat Chris Rock, Hattie McDaniel begat Moms Mabley who begat Whoopi Goldberg, Lena Horne begat Dorothy Dandridge who begat Halle Berry. Our family life depicted on the small screen quickly evolved as Good Times begat The Jeffersons which begat The Cosby Show. And only in La La land could a fairy godfather like Quincy Jones turn a rapper called The Fresh Prince into a television star named Will Smith, who would later metamorphisize into one of the most bankable, international movie stars ever. Smith now belongs to the two billion dollar club (total movie box office grosses) joining the ranks of longtime Hollywood players Tom Cruise, Mel Gibson and Robin Williams.
And the answer is no, we haven’t completely overcome yet. Black women are still the awkward stepchildren at the Hollywood family table who, despite the dearth of capable and talented working black actresses, are only allowed to eek into the A-list, It-Girl spotlight one lone female at a time (Whoopi Goldberg, Angela Bassett, Halle Berry… who’s up next? Hmm…only time will tell.)
It’s my hope this blog column will continue to provide a colorful, intelligent and insightful look at the industry as a whole. And it’s not going to be all heavy, because it is entertainment after all; they’ll be film reviews, award night commentary, casting news, trend spotting and more. It will be the place to examine and ponder bandy concepts, spray holes into stereotypes with the force of an uzi and see through all that frothy media manipulation and hype and more. Stay tuned.
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