"Sorry to Bother You," "Do the Right Thing," and Modern African-American Filmmakers

One movie I told you to see this summer was Sorry to Bother You, directed by Boots Riley, a movie about a young black man strapped for cash who uses his 'white voice' at a telemarketing firm. The film is a critical darling, and anyone who has been following American film recently can't help but associate this success of a black director—who made a film about black people—with those recent past: Barry Jenkins (Moonlight, 2016), Ava DuVerney (Selma, 2014), Steve McQueen (12 Years a Slave, 2013), Justin Simien (Dear White People, 2014), Ryan Cooler (Fruitvale Station, 2013), F. Gary Gray (Straight Outta Compton, 2015). Veteran black directors like John Singleton and Spike Lee—who I will get to later—are outliers. In truth, the motherlode of African-American filmmaking is being mined right now.

Those examples I gave are not only created by black people, they are focused on black issues. Moonlight focuses on the trials of a young black gay man in the South, Selma on the 1965 civil rights marches, 12 Years a Slave on a man kidnapped into slavery, Dear White People on racial tensions at an Ivy League school, Fruitvale Station on a police shooting of a young black man, with Straight Outta Compton following the gangsta rap group N.W.A. (an abbreviation for Niggaz Wit Attitudes). These successes are not cherry-picked. Less successful movies, like Nate Parker's Birth of a Nation and Nick Cannon's King of the Dancehall, are also being produced.

The most recent example of what I might crudely call this 'black new wave' is Sorry to Bother You, which I wrote about recently. It has prompted many to call it 2018's Get Out, perhaps the most successful film of this new wave. Like Get Out, Sorry to Bother You starts out mildly, following a down-on-his luck telemarketer whose luck changes when he gets a tip: "use your 'white voice'." The film then spirals into the surreal, peeling back the socially conscious layers of Boots Riley's smart script. He denudes the fundamental malevolence of racism as sharply as Get Out did.

Film is like all other arts in that its current state and the style of current works can always be traced back from the lineage of the art form. Movements such as this do not arise out of nowhere. I would suggest that the most recognizable origin of this 'black new wave' is Spike Lee's 1989 movie Do the Right Thing. It is a 'plotless' movie, meaning it spends more of its time developing a mood than a plot. Spike Lee plays the main character Mookie, among an array of neighborhood characters who shape the vibe of the film. He plays a pizza deliverer at an Italian-owned pizza place in a predominantly black neighborhood in Brooklyn. As a director, he shines. His movie is bold and loud and bursting with energy. It is hilarious, too, and necessarily so given the high racial tensions throughout. The movie is best in dialogues where characters jab or spar at each other, where New York City's cultures clash, and where Lee pokes at New York's social fabric through comedy.

The heat of New York's summer is a character in itself in the movie. Fans are on high, everyone covered in a thin film of sweat reminds us of it, and newspaper headlines are written about it. That heat is nothing compared to the simmering racial tensions in Brooklyn. The Italians have problems with the Blacks who have problems with the Koreans who have problems with the Jews. Tension between all of these groups and the police is palpable, as well. At one point the neighborhood kids, all black, are playing with an open fire hydrant. As a joke they spray water on a white man, who angrily pleads with the police. They ask the black neighborhood drunk what happened, replying with a rhyme equivalent to, “I don’t talk to the police.” Such an attitude seems earned given the riotous, chaotic, and heartbreaking climax of the movie, eerily foreboding the race riots in Los Angeles that would come three years later. 

Do the Right Thing (1989)

Spoilers for Do The Right Thing ahead. The most memorable scene of the movie, for me, was Radio Raheem's speech about love and hate. That's what's shown above. (Raheem also always has his boombox, playing loud.) Raheem just bought new brass knuckles; the one on the right says "love," and the one on the left says "hate." Lee places Raheem front and center in frame, shifting away from the more naturalistic style of the rest of the movie, telling his audience that this scene is crucial. Raheem tells Mookie, "The story of life is this, static. One hand is always fighting the other." Immediately after his speech Raheem walks to the pizzeria and orders pizza, but the pizza owner tells Raheem to turn the music down. This is Raheem's entire identity being confronted, and the owner points out specifically that he is playing rap music in an Italian place. Tensions rise so high that a brawl seemed brewing.

This is the dichotomy of Do the Right Thing: black and white, love and hate... How can we all blend together in harmony if the relationship between love and hate is an endless fistfight? Later in the film Raheem is murdered by police officers, motivated by hate, inciting the neighborhood, motivated by hate, to destroy the pizzeria. Hate is an easier option sometimes, especially for those oppressed, but love must shine through. This 'black new wave' has our attention, and as it continues to raise social issues I hope it, like Spike Lee, reminds us that love is part of the answer. 

The Halcyon Days of Summer, in a Movie!

I'm here to happily remind you that this movie exists. It is Moonrise Kingdom, a touching coming-of-age summer classic with a charmingly quaint style and color palette. Wes Anderson, the director, pays close attention to objects and often forces them to the forefront of the screen. There are red lighthouses, grey shaly shores, green flags, and blue tape players. These colors are relaxing and comforting, as if you grew up with these objects your whole life. Here's a collage I made of shots from Moonrise Kingdom, all close-ups of different objects.

As you can see, Anderson is also a fan of L E T T E R S and features them prominently as well. This, to me, signifies how important personal relationships are to Anderson's films. It also frames Anderson as a sympathetic director; filmmakers obsessed with cold action do not waste time on close-ups of letters. This film, like his others, relishes in those moments. Moonrise Kingdom is Anderson's highly sympathetic (and colorful) take on a chaste romance born of childlike mischief set in a summer camp. His critics may maintain that he sees the world through rose-colored lenses, but isn't it a nice view?

Three Indie Movies to See This Summer

The summer film season has long since commenced, and several movies have already cemented themselves in the popular zeitgeist. Deadpool 2 dominated May while Incredibles 2 dominated June, so I thought in July I could talk about some movies that aren't sequels to superhero movies. All of these movies are either in theaters now or coming out soon.

1.   Sorry to Bother You (in theaters now!): 

This is one of the most exciting movies of the year. It is the feature film directorial debut of well-known '90s rapper Boots Riley. (Yeah, he kept the name.) His movie has received lavish praise from critics, and deservedly so. Its smarts and intrepidity surprisingly back up its near-ludicrous premise: a black man, strapped for cash, gets a job at a telemarketing firm and uses his "white voice" so people will stay on the line and... it works quite well. The film does, too. It is, and this cannot be repeated enough, hilarious. It's no made-for-TV comedy. Its vivid atmosphere and cinematography are highly individualistic, and it is that individuality that's so stirring. Playing the lead role of "Cash" is Lakeith Stanfield, who you might recognize from Sorry to Bother You's cousin Get Out. 

The films are dramatically different but share these two undeniable similarities: fervent critical adulation, especially for their originality, at a time when black directors are drastically underrepresented in the film industry; and a poised, first-rate performance by a lead actor on this kind of stage for the first time. Many forecast that after Get Out's warm embrace, culminating in an Oscar win, more films made by and about black people could be, first, produced at the very least and, second, given a fair shake by producers and critics. If its reception is any tell, Sorry to Bother You may be part of a significant shift in the demographics of American movies for years to come. The arrival of Boots Riley is, at least, resounding.

2.   Eighth Grade (July 13): 

Unlike the last movie, I have yet to see Eighth Grade from A24, a studio with some of the best output around right now. In the same way you could call Sorry to Bother You this year's Get Out—though that would be a stretch—you could also say that Eighth Grade is this year's Lady Bird. That's the comparison it's getting, at least. Both films focus on the educationally transitory periods in our lives we so often dread and crave at the same time. Lady Bird focuses on the transition between the senior year of high school and freshman year of college, while Eighth Grade focuses on the transition into high school from middle school. 

Lady Bird was a magical movie. I find the phrase "made with love" a little idealistic sometimes, but it felt true of Lady Bird. It had a delicate humanity that touched all kinds of people. It connected to the current crop of adolescents as genuinely as Frank Ocean, speaking the language of youth. After screenings, mothers responded as if they had just read a heartwarming letter from a long-lost daughter—o.k. enough about Lady Bird. Anyway, Eighth Grade has a lot to live up to. It is the directorial debut of Bo Burnam, a dynamically versatile and internet-savvy comedian. (In this way, I suppose, Eighth Grade could also be this year's Get Out.) It has received near-universal praise from audiences and critics alike, and I'm mainly excited to see how such a goofy stage performer could spin out this kind of movie.

3.   RBG (in theaters now!): 

RBG is as much a tribute to the titular Ruth Bader Ginsburg as it is a documentary about her, yet it is still objective. Merely listing her accomplishments and triumphs by rote inspires tribute because of their inherent bravery and importance. RBG was the second female Associate Justice of the Supreme Court, appointed in 1993. She approved landmark legislation and wrote inspired dissents, inspiring a generation of young women. So RBG the film need not lionize RBG the woman, a lioness already in her own right. The movie calmly paints a moving portrait of her, rarely tempted by the kind of histrionics found in recent Hollywood biopics. 

This, on the other hand, is an indie documentary, and accordingly its production value is a little low but its vision is clear. The movie does a great job in the two most important respects: it illustrates well the dramatic journey of Bader Ginsburg's life and career, and it also illustrates well RBG the person—still brimming with verve and steadfastness. She still works regularly, performing speeches across the country with the same attitude that pushed her through years of reactionary oppression. Her voice is strong in this country. She is a feminist icon, referred to in the film on multiple occasions as "a superhero." She even lifts (admittedly small) weights! And she's 85 years old, so I think you can get off your computer to run to the theater and see this. RBG isn't flashy or cinematic but it is educational, and at times so inspiring that it might even raise your personal efficacy.

Summers are notorious for their big-budget box-office smashes and this summer seems particularly deluged with them. What is lost in this monotony of superheroes and supervillains are challenging narrative perspectives, and narrative complexity in general. Rarely are audiences coming out of the theater talking about these movies in any sense beyond their glossy surfaces. They are almost always "good vs. bad" stories with little importance placed on characterization. I do not wish to demonize this kind of film because there are inventive superhero movies, but their scarcity is undeniable.

These three movies listed—three indie movies, that is—are not as simple. They strive to challenge your presumptions and shift your point of view—to that of a black man pretending to be a white man, to that of an eighth-grade girl taking life's next step, and to that of a political giant forever entrenched in virtue. To most of us it would be difficult to conjure ourselves in these characters, to really step in their shoes; but the fond empathy evident in each director's work makes that easy. 

A Few of the Best Performances of the Summer So Far

Actors are a lot like professional sports players. Everyone involved with any major sport will tell you how many other components—front office executives, coaches, trainers, development teams—are crucial for the wheels to turn. But at the end of the day, people really show up to see the stars. It's why actors, like athletes, are showered with awards and fame and giant contracts. It isn't vanity, however. Actors guide us through their director's vision and, usually, make or break a film.

Here are a few examples of actors who made their films. The summer abounds with snarky superheroes, struggling mothers, haunted miniature artists, and more! This list isn't ranked because performances as good as these cannot be compared, only personally preferred.

• Ryan Reynolds in Deadpool 2

Despite the mask and all the special effects hiding Reynolds's famous face, you never lose yourself in the character. You always know that Wade Wilson, or Deadpool, is played by Ryan Reynolds. But it doesn't take you out of the story because the film is so self-referential and meta. It is, in fact, more fun to be reminded that this is his passion project and his dream that he realized through expertly planned, highly sarcastic performance art.

• Martin Freeman in Cargo

It's another zombie movie, but it explicitly tries to separate itself from other zombie flicks through an emphasis on emotional bonds. In quality, however, the movie does little to separate itself—apart from the performance of Martin Freeman. Like many others, I became a true fan of Freeman after his role on the television series Sherlock and have followed his consistent work since then. I believe this to be his best performance yet. Freeman simply connects to his audiences and does so here, protecting his family from zombies in an impossibly grounded way.

• Charlize Theron in Tully

Though Tully was marketed as a comedy, and it is very funny, there is a lot of dramatical depth to Charlize Theron's performance and character, Marlo. She is newly pregnant. She is troubled by a recent and wild past. She struggles with mental health. (The movie was nevertheless criticized for its portrayal of mental health issues.) Theron's is a heavyweight performance by one of the best actresses working today, driving one of the summer's best releases.

• Toni Collette in Hereditary

Hereditary is becoming one of the most talked-about movies of the summer. Its protagonist is unconventional. More often than not, lead characters are quite likable and relatable so as to invite empathy from the audience. This trend is so strong it seems a cliché. Hereditary's Toni Collette plays Annie, an often unlikable woman who sculpts miniature artworks. She is, from the first frame, clearly in distress, which only adds to the dread of the summer's best horror movie.

These are merely a handful of what actors are bringing to the screen. Blockbuster superhero movies and summer horror movies are long-standing traditions and both examples—Deadpool and Hereditary—are led by talented actors. Likewise, two examples of smaller passion projects by new directors—Cargo and Tully—are helmed by relatively older actors basking in a boost in popularity. All of these performances are outstanding, but if pressed I would say Toni Collette has put forth my favorite performance of the summer so far.