Before There was "Milk," There was "Philiadelphia"

A few weeks ago I finally got to see Sean Penn’s portrayal of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay rights activist and Politian who was gunned down in San Francisco in 1978. His Oscar-winning performance of the popular Milk was a stark contrast to his brooding and masculine portrayal of Jimmy Markhum in Mystic River, for which Penn also won an Oscar. But, before there was Penn as Milk, let’s not forget Tom Hank’s brilliant, 1993 portrayal of Andrew Beckett in Jonathan Demme’s Philiadelphia.
We see a youthful Hanks transform from a healthy, crackerjack attorney with a top law firm, to the withdrawn, gray shell of man who sues his employer for discrimination after discovering that Becket has AIDS. The scene where Becket (Hanks) is interpreting the opera, "La Mamma Morta" by Maria Callas, to his lawyer (played by Denzel Washington) still moves me to tears.

The Opening of Perry Studios Prompts Some Old Questions

The opening of the Tyler Perry Studios here in Atlanta reminds me of the central debate during the Harlem Renaissance of “Art vs. Propaganda,” and how among black readers and writers, there is still a bit of a conflict surrounding what some think is real literature and “urban fiction”. During the Harlem Renaissance, “a flowering of black culture which included literature, music, painting, sculpture and politics,” there was much discussion of what African Americans should project in their art and literature. The W.E.B. DuBois camp (which included the likes of James Weldon Johnson) felt that “all art is propaganda,” and should reflect the best part of our community and uplift the race (see "Criteria of Negro Art"). The Alain Locke camp (which included Langston Hughes and Zora Neale Hurston) believed that we “must choose art and put aside propaganda,” and “choose the role of” not only “group expression,” but “free individualistic expression” as well. We’ve all heard about Richard Wright’s discontent with Zora Neale Hurston’s (and James Baldwin’s) work. He criticized her and Baldwin for not dealing with race or “the Negro problem” in their work.

So in 2008, as writers and readers, what should we be dealing with? Some might argue that during the Renaissance, when Negros were becoming new (see "The New Negro " by Alain Locke), there was a need to portray an image of ourselves that we could hold before the world as proof of our competence and desire to live equally among the human race, (mostly white America). Some might say that we shouldn’t air our dirty laundry, or show the ugly side of black life, (even today, when you’d think that the Oprah’s, Condoleezza’s and the Baracks would be proof enough of our possibilities).

I think that we are still becoming new; not so much to the world as to ourselves. And while I don’t have a problem with Omar Tyree or Zane getting paid to do what they do, I’m hoping that in my lifetime, black writers who are motivated by a true desire to master the craft of writing, building a strong literary foundation, and adhering to the standards of traditional, classic literature will encourage readers to elevate their reading expectations and experience through their work. [And, while I am more likely to see an August Wilson play than any production starring “Medea,” I applaud Perry for his determination, his success, and on being the first to build a black-owned and operated film empire.]

Musician, Author...James McBride

Heard a great interview this evening on the PBS show Between The Lines,the "weekly author interview program" hosted by the wife of the late Maynard Jackson, former mayor of Atlanta. I've listened to the show many times, and learned about some great new authors as a result. Today I learned about James McBride, author of Color of Water, Miracle at St. Anna(the film produced by Spike Lee soon to be released)and Song Yet Sung (Riverhead Penguin). Take time to listen to the podcast where he talks about the characters in his new novel. Sounds like a must read; it'll definately be on my list. And check out his website also, really cool. In addition to being an author, McBride is also a musician and has written songs for Grover Washington and Anita Baker, among others. Click here to see the trailer for the movie Miracle at St. Anna, due to be released September 22.

The Genius of Ernest J. Gaines

The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman is one of those movies that whenever it comes on television, I watch it again as though I’ve never seen it before. I know everything that will happen before it happens and yet, when she shuffles her frail, 110 year-old body to that “whites only” water fountain in front of the Louisiana court house in 1960-something, the tears in my eyes are still unable to defy gravity; I cry like I’ve been spanked.

How often have you watched this movie or read the book with the assumption that “Miss Jane” had been a real live human being? Don’t sweat; you’re not the only one. It so happens we’re reading this classic, written and published in 1971 by Ernest J. Gaines, in my Contemporary Literature class, and apparently there are many who still believe that “Miss Jane” was an actual person. Even my well-informed professor was “not certain”, and people in the class gazed at me as though I’d blasphemed when I brought up the fact.

That, I think, is the genius of Ernest J. Gaines. In a 1978 article for Callaloo titled “Miss Jane and I”, Gaines talks about the “creation” of this character

“…The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman is absolute fiction. By that I mean I created Miss Jane, and if I did not create all the events she mentions in her narrative, I definitely created all the situations that she is personally involved in”.

His “Jane” is a Bahktinian figure of epic proportions through which many black women slaves who never had a voice speaks to us decades later about the atrocities they faced, about their tenacity, their fears and triumphs. Indeed, for us “Jane” is most certainly real, and it didn’t hurt that Cicely Tyson’s portrayal of her has ingrained an image on our hearts and minds for all time.

I watched the movie The Hours again for the second time. And while I always thought it was a very good movie, and knew it had something to do with the writer Virginia Woolf, I now know and believe that if you have never read Mrs. Dalloway, you really haven't seen The Hours. The homosexual inlay become not just obvious, but pertinent, and the thread of mental instability provoked by societal expectations and the status quo become another character in the story. If you've read the book, then you should enjoy this story. If you've enjoyed the movie, but couldn't quite make all the connections, the book will make everything clearer.

More Profound Than the Average Movie

Since Ugly Betty and Grey’s Anatomy were a repeat of old shows this week, I watch a movie that I had been looking forward to seeing from the moment I saw the previews. It is a movie starring the comic actor from the TV show Saturday Night Live, Will Ferrell, as the main character, an actor whom I have never regarded as being very funny or interesting. But, it was the storyline that grabbed me right away. The movie, Stranger than Fiction, is a story about a very predictable, uninteresting, IRS agent, Harold Crick, obsessed with numbers, who hears a voice narrating his every move. After talking to a friend about it and seeking the help of a psychiatrist, he seems to begin to accept the fact that he hears this voice that knows even the amount of brush strokes he uses to brush his teeth; that is until the voice speaks about his little known, inevitable death. That’s when he employs the help of a literature professor, portrayed by Dustin Hoffman. And, by ruling out all other types of narratives, Hoffman tells Crick that his life is basically a Tragedy, and that there is only one way for the story to end; with his ultimate death. Not only that, after he finds out who the author is, (played by Emma Thompson), Crick learns that she is a writer who always writes tragedies, and the main character always dies. What makes this story even more interesting is that Crick meets the author, and the author comes literally face to face with her character. I’d say that this movie is a virtual writer’s fantasy.

Not everyone will find this movie as insightful as I did. I suppose that it is tailor-made for a nerdy, literature major like me. But, I think Stranger than Fiction has the simple, quirky charm of movies from the past like, Irma La Douce or Breakfast at Tiffany’s or even Twilight Zone episodes. Now being the chronic worrier that I am, this movie has some rather reflective questions one would have to ask themselves like, “If I knew I were going to die, how would I live my life differently?” “If I knew who held the pen, would I try and find them and convince them to change the ending?” “If I knew I couldn’t change the ending, would I still want to know what it was?” And, more importantly, “If I were an author who came face to face with a living, breathing representation of a character I made up off the top of my head, would I drink more, or would I stop drinking all together?” At least in response to the first question I would say that, I do know that I’m going to die, so everyday I try to get my life closer and closer to how I want it. So that maybe by the time the author decides to smack a “The End” on me, my life will be just as it should be when I die.

...Not Idi Amin's Story

If you want to watch the genius, which is Forest Whitaker, bring to life the notoriously vile legend of Idi Amin Dada, then prepare to have all your fears and uneasiness, which were ignited in the ‘70s upon learning of Amin in the media, rekindled. If you’re looking for a movie to more closely examine the life of the infamous, African president, don’t see this movie. This is not Idi Amin’s story. And, while I don’t know enough to dispute the atrocities of this Ugandan president’s regime, I do understand that the novel, written by Giles Foden, a British journalist who spent twenty years in Africa, is a historical novel, which includes both fact and fiction. In fact, The Last King of Scotland is the story of a fictional young doctor, Nicholas Garrigan, who becomes the personal physician and confidante of the tarnished Amin. And, from the time of Joseph Conrad, white men have been going into the Dark Continent, coming out with stories about wild, uncivilized Africans, conjuring unfathomable nightmares in Western dreams. Again, I am not debating the events that we have been told about which characterize the life and administration of Idi Amin Dada. But, because I have been born into a world that has always been post colonial and post slavery, and because I am a descendent of those colonized and enslaved, and because I live in a world which continues to recognize me as one of the “others”, it is sometimes difficult to hear stories about other “others” without at least a fraction of doubt. Even as an American, I don’t feel that I have the luxury of taking things at face value. So, as for me, I must do more research in order to satisfy my own understanding.