Tim Cogshell, film critic for KPCC’s FilmWeek and Alt Film Guide, and who blogs at CinemaInMind, has another film festival you can put on in the comfort of your own home.
If you haven’t read or watched George Orwell’s dystopian masterpiece “1984” in a while, here are the Cliffs Notes: A man named Winston Smith lives in a totalitarian state that used to be England. His job is to rewrite old newspaper articles to make them comply with party doctrine. There are concepts like – newspeak, thoughtcrime and the ministry of truth – minitrue for short. Winston – named for Churchill – is befriended, and then tortured, by a member of the party elite, called O’Brien.
Spoiler Alert: The book does not have a happy ending, unless you’re a fascist dictator – even then it’s a Pyrrhic victory.
There are two film and a handful of TV adaptations of “1984.” In an era of Fake News, “alternative facts,” and “enemies of the people,” they’re all worth watching.
1. Studio One, 1953
Orwell wrote “1984” in 1948, it was published 1949 – and the first TV production was in 1953 by Westinghouse Studio One – the TV drama series that originated the courtroom drama – “12 Angry Men.”
American actor Eddie Albert played Winston Smith; Canadian Lorne Greene, of “Bonanza” and Alpo fame, played O’Brien, Smith’s tormenter. Appearing just at the end of the Korean War – the production went little noticed.
2. BBC, 1954
The next year, the BBC produced a live televised play, with Hammer horror star and eventual Star Wars alum Peter Cushing as Winston Smith, in one of his earliest TV performances.
Not even a decade after the war, this broadcast was considered subversive – and it was, because it hewed closely to Orwell’s text. Nevertheless it was highly thought of at the time and today is considered among the top 100 BBC programs every broadcast.
3. First film adaptation, 1956
The third version of “1984” is the first feature film adaptation of Orwell’s novel. Produced in 1956, it stars Edmond O’Brien as Winston Smith, and features Donald Pleasence, who was also in the live BBC version.
This adaptation was not well received then – Orwell’s widow didn’t like it – and it’s not highly thought of today because it took liberties with the text, including changing O’Brien to O’Connor. It was directed by Michael Anderson, who also directed “Logan’s Run,” another movie about a dystopian future – though one with sexier outfits.
Edmond O’Brien, who won an Oscar in “The Barefoot Contessa” and was the crazy old guy in “The Wild Bunch,” is all wrong as Winston Smith. Donald Pleasence, Dr. Sam Loomis in the Halloween movies, is still creepy.
4. BBC, 1965
Fourth in our DIY “1984” film festival is another BBC production, this one from 1965. It garnered little attention, and was long believed lost. Though it has been reconstructed, it’s still not very good. So let’s jump to the last and best filmed version of George Orwell’s novel – the second feature film version of “1984” released – quite deliberately – in 1984. Directed by Michael Radford, who was nominated as best director for Il Postino, in 1994 – this version of “1984” was scored – with some controversy – by the Eurythmics – and it was Richard Burton’s last film.
The score has not held up. Sir Richard’s performance has.
Radford’s version of “1984” is extremely faithful to the novel, and it’s the film that looks and sounds the most like the book did in my imagination. The late John Hurt is perfect as Winston Smith. Frail under the constant gaze of Big Brother. His defiance is our defiance. His torture is our torture. His capitulation is our capitulation.
It’s pointless to draw too many analogies between the themes of “1984” and the zeitgeist of any given day – including today but George Orwell’s novel – in all its incarnations – has always seemed relevant to me.
KPCC’s FilmWeek critics and host Larry Mantle plus an audience of 1,000 gathered at the historic Theatre at Ace Hotel in Downtown Los Angeles to discuss and debate the contenders for this year’s major Oscar categories. There were vigorous deliberations over “Moonlight” and “La La Land” in the Best Picture categories and almost no agreement on the Best Documentary Feature.
Who are you favoring for this year’s Academy Awards?
Justin Chang, film critic for KPCC and the Los Angeles Times
Larry Mantle tackles a busy week at the cinemas with KPCC film critics Charles Solomon, Tim Cogshell and Amy Nicholson. They will review a batch of sequels in wide release: “John Wick: Chapter 2,” “Fifty Shades Darker” and “The LEGO Batman Movie.” Plus, all the Oscar-nominated shorts are playing in select theatres, so we will review the Live Action and Animation categories.
Barry Obama (Devon Terrell) reads Ralph Ellison’s 1952 socio-political novel ‘Invisible Man’ – not to be confused with H.G. Wells’ 1897 sci-fi novel ‘The Invisible Man.’
While thinking about Barry, Vikram Gandhi’s 1981-set film about a young Barack Obama as he arrived in New York City to attend Columbia University, I found myself thinking about me in 1981, as I arrived in New York City to attend Columbia University.
To be frank, I’ve been thinking about President Obama in juxtaposition to myself for years, ever since his keynote address at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. Like many Black folks that evening, I looked up the tall, handsome, well-spoken brotha from Chi-town. Tall and handsome notwithstanding, I found that I had a lot in common with the biracial son of a Kenyan scholar and an American white lady from Kansas. None of those things – but a lot.
An evening in 2004
That evening in 2004, with elegance and verve, Barry, long since Barack, stirred the democratic heart of our nation with talk of hope, change, and one America, built by people like him – literally, a little bit of everyone.
Every word from Obama’s mouth that evening lived in an idea or concept for the kind of world that I wanted for my countrymen, my family, and me. Beyond our politics, there was a deeper identification with the young senator from Illinois – a state in the American Midwest; the Midwest where I was from and knew quite well.
St. Louis, Missouri, my hometown, is much like Chicago with an inferiority complex. Much the same in every way – history and culture and ethnic divides – though St. Louis is less obnoxious regarding its achievements. The Cardinals didn’t need over 100 years to get to several World Series, let alone to win (a few). Still, the cities themselves are much the same.
Mixed genealogical histories adding up to ‘Black’
In 2004, all black Americans watching Barack Obama give that keynote address instantly understood that he was what we called “mixed” – and what white folks called “biracial.” I knew I wasn’t biracial in the terms by which we assess such things in America; terms that are strict and that over the years have often been written into law. However, I also knew that my genealogical history was no less mixed than Barack’s – or that of most black Americans, for that matter.
It’s understood by African Americans that part of our lineage generally runs to white folks. In my family, it accrues to Jewish and Irish bloodlines mostly; some Native American and, obviously, African. I also knew that in America all of that adds up to Black. Full stop.
‘Barry’ movie: Devon Terrell as a young Barack Obama: The ‘brotha’ who could be president.
Unable to fit into race-based identity politics
Here is the place where Barry and I part, at least according to director Vikram Gandhi and screenwriter Adam Mansbach. Barry was unclear about his place in the world of race-based identity politics. He wanted to claim all his bloodlines at once – or none at all – which left both him and most of his acquaintances confused about who or what he was in terms of race.
In the film, Barry Obama is played (quite well) by Devon Terrell, employing just of hint of the president’s very particular accent and halting speech pattern. At one point early on, Barry says to his roommate (laconically played by Boyhood actor Ellar Coltrane), “I don’t fit in anywhere.”
That’s not an original thought for a youth from any background, but Obama ’81 had a pretty good reason for thinking so. It would take some time for Barry to settle into the fact of his “blackness” by American standards – understandable given his specific upbringing, which was hardly typical for American Black folks of our generation.
As a young man Barry Obama hardly knew his Kenyan father or his siblings from his father’s other relationships. When he wasn’t living with his elderly white grandparents in Kansas, he spent time with his scholarly white mother in Hawaii or Indonesia, alongside his half-Indonesian half-sister from his mother’s second marriage.
It’s no surprise it took Barry a bit longer to sort through his understanding of how things work in America before landing on the only race he’d ever be: Black.
The ‘brotha’ who could be president
Black folks watching Barack Obama in 2004 knew then – no matter the mix – he was a brotha. By then, of course, he knew it too. Black folks in ’04 also knew that the brotha with the funny name could be president one day.
We understood it in the same way we understood that Jesse Jackson, for instance, was never going to be president of the United States. Ever. We understood it in the same way we understood Donald Trump could be elected president – even after Barack Obama was elected – twice.
Black folks understand these things about the nature of America – because we do. Admittedly, we weren’t sure Obama would survive being president, indeed we worried that he might not because we really do understand America.
Still, we always knew he could do it. And he did it – twice.
But I digress. The things I have in common with our 44th president are in every way mundane. Indicators of absolutely nothing, either on a practical or a spiritual level. Nevertheless, they resonate, at least with me. After watching Barry they resonated all the more, but are no more meaningful in the larger world, except by way of offering me a window into the way the president interprets it. He sees it the way I do.
Indeed, over the past 7-plus years, I’ve often found myself listening to President Obama speak as I mouthed the very words that would come out of his mouth. Not because he’d said them before, as they were often novel, but because I actually knew what he thought about the subject at hand – because I knew what I thought about the subject at hand. Disappointing for my fans – such as you are – who opposed the president on most issues.
Like Obama, I’m inclined to attempt to bring you around on the subject, to find common ground, because like both Barry and Barack, I too am an optimist. But then again, unlike Barry or Barack, I’m pretty sure it ultimately won’t work.
In truth, my optimism has waned over the years. For Barry, that optimism, backed up by a fearlessness regarding his own physical safety (partially driven by nicotine, as Barry smoked a lot), is what the film Barry is all about. My waning optimism notwithstanding, this too is something we have in common. (Although I never smoked. Well, not cigarettes.)
According to Barry, it was in the fall of 1981 that optimism was solidified in the young Barry Obama. It’s also definitely about the time it was forged in me. These were our foundational moments. The moments in life that establish all of us within ourselves.
They were for Barry the experiences that made him Barack, that made him The President, even before that evening in 2004. They didn’t have that exact effect on me, obviously. I’ve never been the president of anything, though I was a sergeant in the United States Air Force, which, believe it or not, requires a similar set of leadership skills. They are both forms of community organizing, only with the authority to make people do things. Something that, to my mind, good presidents (and sergeants) almost never need to do.
If you’re good at leading people, they follow because they’re with you – not because you give them an order. I never ordered anybody to do anything when I was in the military because I never needed to; I’d just ask and they’d do it. This was something that Barry came to understand in the early 1980s, too. I count it among the things we have in common.
Indeed, in 1981, Barry Obama, as conceived by Gandhi and Mansbach, saw the world much like me. I claim the elder perspective as I’m one month older than the President. We were born in July and August of 1961, respectively. It’s just a coincidence. Not at all important or meaningful in any way.
Nevertheless, in 1981, Barry and me were at that forging age, 20 or 21, experiencing the moments that would make us us. I had been in the United States Air Force since 1979, the year both Barry and I graduated from high school. I went to basic training, he went off to college; our boyhoods ended, ready or not.
Barry was a young man on his own in the world when he headed to Columbia after having spent time at Occidental College in Pasadena. As it happens, I live in Pasadena and taught at Occidental College, though not in association with President Obama, in any way. It’s irrelevant, and means nothing to anyone – except me.
In the film, Barry arrives in New York City to attend Columbia University in August of 1981. As it happens, I was a young airman in New York City in the summer of 1981, attending Columbia while on temporary duty assignment from the 42nd Air Division, 97th Bombardment Division. Point is we both happened to be in New York City in the fall of 1981, studying at Columbia.
We did not meet. This is not important.
Sorting out the ‘why’
The city that both Barry and I were roaming around in 1981 was still wobbling from the bankruptcy of 1975. It was steeped in violence and racial unrest, among other problems, but it was also vibrant with punk and a burgeoning art form called rap that would shape America over the next three decades – and it shaped us a bit, too.
Barry was a young man already formed, yet still evolving – as was I. Already who we would become while still sorting out the “why” of everything. “Why,” in fact, was a central question of 1981 for many people including Barry and me.
In 1981, Barry Obama was in his pre-Michelle Robinson period. Their getting together is all captured in a different 2016 movie called Southside with You, which is also quite good. For my part, by then I’d already met and married my Michelle, so to speak. I’d been in love with her since we were kids and we got married in the summer of 1981 just before I was sent TDY to New York. As noted, that’s all a different movie. Barry and I also have this in common – we are both crazy in love with our one and only wives – and always will be.
Barack Obama movie ‘Barry’ and racial identity: Devon Terrell as the young Obama and Anya Taylor-Joy as his girlfriend.
life in 1981
In 1981, Barry was captivated by but cynical about politics. He argued Plato with the reasoning of Socrates and debated political philosophies with his fellow students on the Right and the Left, while defending the concerns of the minority from the tyranny of the majority under all circumstances. All the while having no idea how or if he would be able to make a difference in any of it.
In 1981, Barry already knew that, unlike most of his classmates and friends from the street, he would not be going for the money. One way or another, everybody in 1981 was going for the money. Some sold junk bonds, others cocaine – and often to each other. Either way, in the 1980s it was all about making a million dollars before you were twenty-five.
Barry knew that there had to be more to life than making money; he knew this from the perch of a poor person, one who could easily go for the money like everybody else and leave all his financial cares behind, forever. But like me, Barry was raised better than that. Score one for the scholarly white lady from Kansas.
In 1981, Barry was going for white girls. These were the ones he dated at the time. Really cute white girls who looked a lot like his mother – because sometimes Freud is right. Not one of the women Barry Obama actually dated is in Gandhi’s movie; instead, one character represents several of them.
Played by Anya Taylor-Joy, she’s called Charlotte in the film; while she’s not given credit for enlightening the still evolving Barry Obama regarding his race, his politics, or even his name (it’s not clear she even knew his real name), she’s not played as irrelevant either. Neither she, nor the women she represents, are essential to Barry’s transformation into Barack, but they did influence him greatly, as girlfriends often do. They were not his Michelle, but they mattered.
Other characters in Barry are also composites of people the president knew during his time at Columbia. They are the result of the filmmakers’ interviews with people he dated and learned from, hung out with and even fought with, during his time in New York. They provide context both for the film’s subtle biographical tributes to the young Barry Obama, and for the more didactic political pitches of the man who would eventually become President Barack Obama. They are not props per se, but they do serve a similar purpose.
Thugs & basketball
When Barry wasn’t smoking and having sex with smart, artsy white girls, he studied hard, partied a little, and played basketball a lot, often with thugs who argued as much as they played ball in raucous neighborhood parks. He almost got himself shanked more than once while acting as the voice of reason, literally standing between angry young men ready to come to blows over a perceived slight during a basketball game.
He lived in an ethnically diverse, low-income community where he was tested by the guys on the block on a daily basis. He made friends – some lifelong – from whom he seeks counsel to this day. Minus the cigs and the artsy white girls, I was doing most of that too back in 1981.
‘Barry’ movie trailer with Devon Terrell and Anya Taylor-Joy.
Among the other features of the president’s time in New York City that Barry highlights are his experiences being “the only.” The only black person in most of his classes. The only poor person in a room full of rich people. The only rational person in a room full of irrational people. The only student to be asked for an ID on a campus full of students with IDs – but who did not look like him.
I deeply identify with being “the only,” as do many others, in one context or another. Perhaps, you…
Indeed, by my measure, if one has never been “the only something” in their life, they likely didn’t vote for Barack Obama to become president of these United States. They probably wouldn’t have liked him much during his college days at Columbia. Nor would they care for this movie about his life in the early 1980s, or my thoughts about the film, particularly as related to me.
Of course those people probably would not be reading this long, overly personal essay on Barry and me, anyway.
But you have been, so you probably get him. And you probably get me.
I’m a sucker for girl talk movies, true love stories, and movies where a lady rides into the sunset after she shoots the bastard who killed her daddy – in the head. This DIY Film Festival is for films that I love, about women that I love, in movies that should have got a lot more love.
1. “Live Nude Girls” (1995)
“Live Nude Girls” was directed by Julianna Lavin, who directed this film, one episode of Party of Five in 1998, and nothing else. This happens in Hollywood more often than you’d think, but it happens to female filmmakers even more often than that. It stars Dana Delany, Laila Robins, Lora Zane, Cynthia Stevenson and, ironically, Kim Cattrall as the over or under sexed member of the foursome – depending on your point of view.
“Live Nude Girls” is a wonderfully funny and intimate movie about four lifelong friends at an all night bachelorette party for one of them who is getting married for the 3rd time. This film is practically a blueprint for “Sex and the City” which started three years later. It’s frank and funny and sexy and filled with a female energy that reminded me of my very cool big sister and her amazing girlfriends, lounging in conversation, as I loitered near, always at the ready to fetch cigarettes and Fresca. It was the 70s.
2. “Living Out Loud” (1998)
“Living Out Loud,” directed by Richard LaGravenese, stars Holly Hunter, Danny DeVito, Queen Latifah and ecstasy – both the emotion and the drug. In the movie, Holly Hunter’s husband abandons her for a younger woman.
Sure, it’s a well worn premise, but it’s considered thru a wide range of emotions, spoken out loud, sung out loud, and even fantasized out loud. Hunter confronts her circumstances with philosophical introspection about the choices she’s made; with direct confrontation of those who’ve done her wrong … and with the occasional hit of ecstasy.
The highlight is this amazing dance sequence that I still find myself fantasizing about from time to time. Occasionally, I’m even in it.
3. “Besieged” (1998)
“Besieged” is a Bernardo Bertolucci film starring Thandie Newton and David Thewlis. This is a love story about truest love. Although, at first glance it might seem like a movie about stalker who plays the piano really well, David Thewlis portrays a man – a passionate composer and pianist – who falls in love with his African housekeeper on first sight. And why the hell wouldn’t he – she’s Thandie Newton – but his adoration is about much more than her beauty.
In her he sees pure intention, resilience, and a strength that his privileged existence could never know. Out of that comes a kind of love that leads him to sell everything he owns, including his beloved grand piano, to give her the one thing she truly wants.
4. “The Quick and The Dead” (1995)
Last in my DIY film festival about women that I love, in films that I love, that need a little more love is “The Quick and The Dead.” This is Sam Raimi post-“Evil Dead” and pre-“Spiderman” directing a wicked Cowgirl movie. It stars Sharon Stone, Gene Hackman and Russell Crowe star alongside a young Leonardo DiCaprio, with Gary Sinise, Keith David, Lance Henriksen, Olivia Burnette, the great Pat Hingle, and the late Tobin Bell of the Saw films.
If you missed this wicked gunslinger revenge flick because you believed the middlin’ reviews from back in the day – you got suckered. It was accused of being too campy. Like that’s a thing.
In “The Quick and the Dead,” the Lady slaps leather with a bunch dastardly bastards, including the one that killed her daddy. Like I said – I’m a sucker for girl talk movies, true love stories and movies where a lady rides into the sunset after she shoots the bastard who killed her daddy – in the head.
Larry Mantle and KPCC film critics Wade Major, Tim Cogshell and Charles Solomon review this weekend’s new movie releases including: in wide release, Kate Beckinsale taking another turn as vampire warrior Selene in “Underworld: Blood Wars;” Jackie Chan in the Mandarin-language feature “Railroad Tigers;” the thriller “Arsenal” starring Nicolas Cage and John Cusack; and more.
I’ve been thinking about how some guys can do bald and some guys can’t.
In Hollywood, hair is a big deal. Can you imagine the late great Gene Wilder without those fuzzy curls or Brad Pitt minus those flowing blonde locks in Legends of the Fall? Bucking tradition, some actors not only survive after losing their hair, but excel.
Here are the totally arbitrary rules:
First – they must be now publicly and completely bald. Classic male pattern baldness and comb-overs don’t count. This lets out Burt Reynolds… John Travolta… Nick Cage… William Shatner… and many other actors known to be bald but who won’t cop to it in public.
They must have become or continued to be a movie star after becoming denuded – and last – their name must have occurred to me before I finished this piece. Okay… here we go.
1. Yul Brynner
Brenner appeared in only one film with a full head of hair. In 1949’s Port of New York, Brynner played a debonair gang leader with fabulous dark wavy hair. He’s good. He didn’t need hair– even back then.
2. Taye Diggs
Nevertheless, you can see Taye Diggs with hair in a stint on The Guiding Light – 1997- where he played Adrian ‘Sugar’ Hill – a sexy business shark – with hair! He’s still got hair in the movie that launched him to movie stardom -1998’s How Stella Got Her Groove Back. He still needed a brush in The Wood – 1999 – but by 2000’s, The Way of the Gun – Taye was a handsome bald man, on-screen and off, and has been ever since.
3. Morris Chestnut
Morris Chestnut had hair from before Boyz N’ The Hood – 1990 – thru the 90’s, including that first Best Man – opposite Taye Diggs in 1999. It was the last time they’d have hair together. By 2002’s Half Past Dead, Chestnut had also gone clean shaven. By The Best Man Holiday in 2013, both Diggs and Chestnut had been bald for years and were bigger stars than ever.
4. Vin Diesel
Vin can be seen pop-locking in an instructional dance video in the late 1980s with a serious head of hair. He still had a whisper of hair when he got his big break in Saving Private Ryan – 1995, and when he got first starring role in Pitch Black – in the year 2000. There was even still a shadow of his former fro in the first Fast and Furious film – 2001. It was as Xander in 2002’s Triple X that Vin was first a wholly bald badass.
5. Samuel L. Jackson
Sam has lots of early movie credits with hair – dating back to 1972. You’ve seen him with hair in School Daze and Goodfellas and Jungle Fever and Jurassic Park. In 1998’s The Great White Hype, Samuel is wearing an interesting wig – it’s straight and frosted white – and perfect for this character – a shady boxing promoter a’la Don King.
Sam’s best hair is found in Unbreakable also at the turn of the millennium. It’s kind of Frederick Douglass meets Sugar Foot – the late front man for the Ohio Players – it’s stately – yet funky.
Sam appears in Unbreakable opposite our next pre-and-post hair movie star, Bruce Willis.
6. Bruce Willis
Bruce had a long career with hair – on Broadway and on TV – even before his hit series Moonlighting in the early 80s. He had hair thru the Die Hard movies, though, truth be told, it was always wispy. By Death Becomes Her in 1992, it’s getting very thin. For Pulp Fiction in 1994, his hair was thinner still. Then, finally, Bruce Willis goes boldly-bald in 1995’s Twelve Monkeys.
Both Bruce and Sam are avid movie-hair actors – which I love. Sam will rock a Pulp Fiction gerri-curl or a long straight Tina Turner ponytail like he did in Jackie Brown, if the role calls for it, while Bruce Willis has been known to wear any number of pieces to top off a character – so to speak.
So in a town as shallow as Hollywood what’s the thing that not only gets some actors past the loss of their hair – but catapults them to greater stardom? Here is my totally arbitrary answer: Some guys have bad heads for bald… and know it. Some guys have good heads for bald… but don’t know it. But some guys have good heads for being bald and do know it. For these guys hair is an accessory– fun but never really necessary.
Larry Mantle and KPCC film critics Tim Cogshell, Andy Klein and Charles Solomon review this weekend’s new movie releases. It’s a big one for notable releases including the “Harry Potter” spinoff from J.K. Rowling, “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them;” a critically acclaimed drama with Oscar buzz, “Manchester by the Sea;” a significant animated feature from Studio Ghibli, “The Red Turtle;” plus what Rotten Tomatoes calls more than just another coming-of-age dramedy, “The Edge of Seventeen;” a very promising documentary about an eccentric farmer, “Peter and the Farm” and more! TGI-FilmWeek!
BY CALLING A FILM A BLACK FILM, DOES THAT CONFINE IT?
You know, it depends. If we say ‘French film,’ we understand that we’re probably talking about a film that is in the French language, but we’re probably also talking about a film that references French culture. I could say ‘a French film,’ and it might be made by an Algerian or a Moroccan, and it will be in the French language but it will very much not be about the French culture.
I think that what we have to do is to allow the notion of black film to evolve just like we have every other genre of film: German film, Japanese film, all those films can carry those monikers, but they’re all just films. They’re all cinema.
WHAT IF THE MOVIE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE BLACK EXPERIENCE? SAY A BLACK FILMMAKER IS HIRED TO DIRECT A FILM ABOUT UNICORNS AND RAINBOWS?
Then you’re going to have yourself a film about unicorns and rainbows that is a black film. It’s gonna be a black film about unicorns and rainbows. And by the way, if it were a woman directing that film, then it would be a film about unicorns and rainbows that’s very female.
SO THE IDENTITY WILL ALWAYS BE THERE. MOONLIGHT DIRECTOR BARRY JENKINS WAS ASKED WHETHER HE SAW HIMSELF AS A BLACK FILMMAKER OR JUST A FILMMAKER. HIS RESPONSE WAS THAT THERE’S NO TIME WHEN BLACK CEASES TO BE A DEFINING CHARACTERISTIC.
This is absolutely true. It’s true of us. Me, I’m a film critic, but I’m unequivocally a black film critic. My thoughts about film are filtered through my blackness because I’m black all day, every day.
ARE WE GOING TO START CLASSIFYING MOVIES DIFFERENTLY GOING FORWARD OR WILL THEY ALWAYS GO BACK TO THOSE LABELS?
You know, I think that they will always sort of go back to those same categories. What we need to expand is our understanding of what those categories mean. ‘Black film’ don’t necessarily mean Tyler Perry and Kevin Hart and “Boys in the Hood.” It can also mean Daughters of the Dust, wonderful Julie Dash’s movie. “Killer of Sheep,” by Charles Burnett. It might even mean a film that stars a white kid doing things in a white neighborhood that some black guy thought of.
Press the blue play button above to hear the full interview.
(Questions and answers have been edited for brevity and clarity.)