By Craig D. Lindsey
Press Play Contributor
Not too long ago, I was going back and forth with a friend of mine on Twitter late one night, and he threw out a reference to the 2005 movie Hustle & Flow. I told him that I hadn’t seen the movie in years and I didn’t know exactly what he was referring to. When he explained the reference, he then basically said I should be more familiar with the movie – after all, it does star our people.
“It’s a nigga-movie,” he tweeted. “You have an obligation.”
Now, it should be noted that I am black and so is my friend, which is why the term “nigga-movie” was used so openly during our online conversation. (Also note the more familiar, chummier spelling of the slur, with the “a” at the end, instead of the original, more derogatory, more liable-to-get-your-ass-beat-down spelling, which ends with “er.”) However, when my friend referred to black movies as “nigga-movies,” that term seemed to carry an even more unsettling, negative connotation than the early 20th-century term “race movies” or the “blaxploitation” label of the ‘70s.
To me, “nigga-movies” sound like movies made for, by and about black people, movies that we know are bad and that don’t paint a rounded vision of the black community, but that we watch and worship anyway because, well, they’re all we have.
Yeah, excuse me for saying this, but that’s bullshit.
Starting even before that online convo, I’ve recently been thinking about how many movies starring a predominantly black cast, usually made (unlike Hustle and Flow) by a black filmmaker, have been released over the years but have not necessarily stuck in my consciousness the way they have for many of my brothas and sistas. I wouldn’t call such films “nigga-movies” per se, as my friend did. But black audiences have seen and embraced these films, quoting lines and recalling moments with each other like a secret language, and yet a large percentage of these beloved movies have slipped from my memory after I’ve seen them, just as Hustle did (I do recall finding the film quite ridiculous).
I’ve kind of felt this way about many black films this past decade. I usually come out of these movies wondering why more films that cater to African-American audiences can’t be, well, good. From what I’ve observed while watching movies with black audiences, whether or not the film’s good seems almost irrelevant. Most of these audiences seem to be in the same mindset they were throughout the last century: as long as black people are in it, we’re gonna love it!
I felt the same way when I was a kid, endlessly watching pro-black films on cable like House Party, New Jack City or anything starring Eddie Murphy. I actually enjoyed those movies, however flawed they might have been. Remember, this was during a time when films starring black casts were a rarity. Just the fact that they existed gave them a redeemable quality.
But ever since I’ve taken it upon myself to become a professional film critic, it’s been my job to watch movies that don’t often feature black casts and black themes. I’ve seen hundreds upon hundreds of films in the 15 years since I started as a critic and I’ve often found myself being disappointed by black-oriented films – even more so than by films starring white people.
Think about it: white people make white movies all the time. Some good, some bad. When black people come together for a black movie – examples of which are unfortunately few and far between – it’s usually a bad deal.
But when I first started in this game in ‘95, those films weren’t all bad. That year Dead Presidents and Friday were the memorable black films that black viewers, including myself, enjoyed. (Just like Hustle, I haven’t seen either of them in years. I know – bad black man.) But as I look back on the aughts, I remember a decade filled with films like Soul Plane, Biker Boyz, Baby Boy and a whole bunch of Big Momma’s House movies — films that black audiences seemed to accept regardless of their mediocrity. (The fact that they were usually played on BET ad nauseam didn’t help matters much.)
And of course, let’s not forget the entire oeuvre of that hard-working, kitchen-sink melodramatist Tyler Perry, who has cornered the market on making movies black women will flock to over and over again, no matter how condescending and manipulative the films are. Now, I must admit I’ve grown to respect Perry’s hustle. After all, the man has done the impossible: make successful black movies on his own, outside of the Hollywood studio system. But, damn, can’t the brotha make better movies? And while we’re on the subject, can someone explain to me how a guy like Perry can keep churning out movie after movie while great black filmmakers like Charles Stone III (director of the underrated films Paid in Full and Mr. 3000) and Scott Sanders (Black Dynamite) can barely find work?
I’m seen dozens of good films done by people from other races and ethnic origins, and I refuse to believe that we can’t do better than all those damn Madea movies. There are good black movies out there, and some of them are of recent vintage (see the under-appreciated gems below). I know more can be made.
What I’m saying is that I have a dream, people, a dream that black people will rise up, get together as a moviegoing community and demand that studios and filmmakers make more black movies that won’t be referred to as “nigga-movies” at three in the morning by a guy I know on Twitter.
Tell me, is that too much to ask?
Without further ado, here is my list of favorite recent films about black folks that are definitely not Nigga Movies.
Akeelah and the Bee (2006): Excuse me for getting my sap on by mentioning this well-done family film about a girl who gets her neighborhood behind her when she enters a spelling bee.
Black Dynamite (2009): If you haven’t seen this movie at least twice, then you’re missing out on the funniest-ass blaxploitation parody/salute ever made.
Dave Chappelle’s Block Party (2006): Before he went all batty, Dave Chappelle assembled some of his musical brethren for an awesome show, captured on film by Michel Gondry.
A Good Day to be Black & Sexy (2008): This erotic/neurotic collection of vignettes about black love & sexuality played at an L.A. theater for a week. Could someone please get a revival going?
Good Hair (2009): Only Chris Rock could have the balls to make a documentary about black-hair culture, which is really just him telling sistas to stop messing with their hair. Thank you, Chris.
Jump Tomorrow (2001): A way, way, way underrated rom-com, with TV on the Radio lead singer Tunde Adebimpe as a nerdy Nigerian dude who falls in love with a Latin beauty.
Mr. 3000 (2004): The late, great Bernie Mac shined in Charles Stone III’s modest sports comedy about an aging baseball great returning to the majors.
Paid in Full (2002): Charles Stone III’s look at the ‘80s Harlem drug trade (featuring Wood Harris and Mekhi Phifer) went in and out of theaters too quickly. It’s worth another look.
Standing in the Shadows of Motown (2002): A stone-cold must for anyone who has ever wanted to know more about the Funk Brothers. One of my favorite documentaries.
35 Shots of Rum (2009): French director Claire Denis crafts a quietly moving story about the relationship between a stoic black working dad and his ever-maturing young daughter.
Craig D. Lindsey used to be the film critic and pop-culture columnist for the Raleigh News & Observer. Now he’s back out there hustling, writing about whatever for Nashville Scene, the Greensboro News & Record, Philadelphia Weekly, The Independent Weekly and other publications. He has a Tumblr blog, and you can also hit him up on Twitter.
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The bitter truth is, Black Filmmakers aren’t supported if their projects fall just outside whatever perception “Black” is. There’s lots of good filmmakers out there – Kasi Lemmons, who was the flavor of the month when EVE’S BAYOU was made, and who was deserted when she made THE CAVEMAN’S VALENTINE and TALK TO ME; Cauleen Smith, whose 1999 DRYLONGSO won awards, but you can’t find the film now… and she went into the academic world, where there was a niche for her work; Kevin Wilmott, who is making films in the Midwest (CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA, THE ONLY GOOD INDIAN, NINTH STREET), and many others.
All or most of these films attempt to broaden whatever perception of “Black Film” is… but unless there’s a comedian, a rapper, or some sort of broad stereotype, audiences don’t seem to want to get behind something unfamilar.
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i abhor the word nigger, nigga in all of its various forms. i understand what your friend was saying but still NO. how about Brother to Brother, I Will Follow, Gridlock (directed by Vondie Curtis Hall)?
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How about “Medicine for Melancholy”?
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I’m a black African but I spent a couple years in the states at George Washington in DC and during my time I realized a couple of things; Tyler Perry may be the worst thing to happen to the perception of your race since rap music. Seriously, the world is informed about America primarily through TV, movies and music. And yes, the world thinks black American women behave like Madea.
2nd thing is I did my masters at NYU and my dissertation was centred around the effects of slang in all its variations with a focus on black america and there is nothing wrong with using “nigga,” to describe yours
elves. There is no correlation between changing the meaning of words and ignorance as someone posted, it does not make the use of the word in a non-black context ok either and if the history of languages is any indicator the word will likely mean a huge variety of things in 70-100 years time.
Your race has influence in Hollywood and Will Smith should wield it to make good movies about black society.
In the words of my grad school roomate “don’t be scurred!”
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>>(Also note the more familiar, chummier spelling of the slur, with the “a” at the end, instead of the original, more derogatory, more liable-to-get-your-ass-beat-down spelling, which ends with “er.”)
Yes, yes, thank you for spelling it all out for us crackers… we didn’t get it otherwise. 😉
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Always annoyed when people question if I’ve seen the likes of “Friday” and use that as a gauge of “Blackness” yet know nothing of positive or non-cliche or thought-provoking films such as “Putney Swope”, or call any non-stereotypical performance such as that of Morgan Freeman’s in “Moll Flanders” or even Donald Faison’s on “Scrubs” as “acting White”.
However, Mr. Lindsay, I have to object to your defense of the use of certain people using “nigga” as if it is any different from “nigger”. It should be considered as the same, just like “going to” and “gonna”. Defending that pronunciation just perpetuates the confusion, gives non-Blacks an excuse to keep using that stinging slur, and actually reinforces the counterproductive idea that people can just make up their own definitions for words without appearing ignorant. Watch movies like “The Spook Who Sat by the Door” from the early ’70s and hear that same now-acceptable pronunciation used as a punch in the face. Never accept or make excuses for it.
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I’m not sure that there is a higher percentage of bad films with all black casts than bad films white casts. I think there are just fewer black films being made in general so it feels like more of them are bad. Most movies that get made aren’t great. Just look at the vast majority of big studio films that came out this year. Most of them were directed by white guys with predominately white casts, and most of them sucked.
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Great discussion. There’s a lot to be said on the topic and the reasons for the disconnect, but I just wanted to pop in and say: No love for Kasi Lemmons? She’s brilliant and makes all black films that are entirely accessible to white audiences, but never gets the love she deserves.
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Certainly bad movies aren’t limited to black people. It might be an interesting topic for discussion: how are bad white movies different from bad black movies, and what does the difference say about the races?
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I am a white male, early 20’s. I enjoy movies a lot, but I can not abide a terrible movie. I wanted to comment on my channel surfing and movie selecting habits when it comes to primarily black cast films. Put simply, I have none. If I am on Netflix, I almost always skip over such films. I credit this to the lack of quality in most of these films. I just don’t want to be tasked with filtering through to find the good ones.
With that having been said, I am very happy you made this list. I have added Good Hair as my next Netflix film.
I hope no one takes my comment as an offence. I do the same with SyFy films because the issue is time. There are too many good films for me to sift through a selection that has mostly bad ones.
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What about Love and Basketball. Ok, it has a few schmaltzy moments, but it was a rare and realistic look at love, specifically black love (as Whitney and Bobby would say)
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White boy by way of Ebert’s Twitter link here. Dug this post. Found Hustle and Flow to be uncomfortably forced. Felt like a Big Mac fronting like a filet mignon.
Thanks for the movie suggestions; I’ll throw them on my list.
Sounds like black people are under a lot of pressure to conform. A black colleague of mine — a spoken word artist — posted something to Facebook recently something to the effect of, “I’m a black man, but I love comic books, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.”
Sounds like my friend WAS ashamed, which is why he’s taking strides to transcend the peer pressure. Black filmmakers could take a cue from him.
Last thing, a quote by another spoken word artist, Saul Williams:
“Your current frequencies of understanding outweigh that which as been given for you to understand. The current standard is the equivalent of an adolescent restricted to the
diet of an infant. The rapidly changing body would acquire dysfunctional and deformative symptoms and could not properly mature on a diet of apple sauce and crushed
pears.”
Here’s to the general public one day accepting a richly complex black person, and not a type.
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I’m kind of sad Dreamgirls wasn’t on your list… 😦 and I’m white.
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I’m latino so im not an authority, but Hustle and flow was directed by Craig Brewer who is white. I’ve also never met any black people who mention that movie ever or would lump it in with other black movies and I work in the record industry and hang out with and work with mostly young moviegoing black people. Most black people I know only remember it because of Three 6 Mafia’s songs.
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Nice list, “Jump Tomorrow” is a favorite of mine.
My have times changed in the film industry as far as films that specifically cater to a black audience.
To answer your question about Tyler Perry. No, he can’t make better films that would requirement a certain amount of talent that I don’t think Perry posseses. Why should he make better films when his formula for mediocrity has made him wealthy and relatively powerful.
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Amen!!!
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One more addition, “Love Jones”.
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Good list and I shall check them out, based on how much I liked “35 Shots” and “Standing in the Shadows” and “Block Party”.
Three of these other films are on Netflix Instant: “Paid in Full,” “A Good Day”, and “Jump Tomorrow.” (As is “35 Shots”)
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Great blog! It’s interesting how films catered to the black crowd have changed so drastically. As a huge fan of older Blaxploitation films I felt like Black Dynamite was a perfect nod to those films. While it was practically a parody, it perfectly captured the old “stick it to the man” vibe present in the early 70’s and 80’s films. It’s a damn shame studios aren’t begging for Scott Sanders to work. He’s just fantastic.
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