Thembisa S. Mshaka

1. Woman Led Story by Woman Writer-Director

This combination does not always yield extraordinary results, but with Beyond The Lights, Noni is well served by the words and the actual lens through which these words are supported visually. Noni’s character is flawed, but in the best way possible: the complex, human way that women on film usually have to trade for needy and pathetic, because those attributes are projected onto them by male writers. Noni is suicidal, but not a victim. She is conflicted, but not vapid. She is confined by the trappings of the success she helped design, but only temporarily. And when it comes to love, she is both assertive and vulnerable, just like many successful women in the public eye. This is all deftly written by Gina Prince-Bythewood–and because of the writing, I was riveted to the screen.

Well, and also because Gugu Mbatha-Raw turns in a searing, sensual performance and looks damn amazing, be she weaved up in lavender tresses (shouts to hair stylist Kimberly Kimble @KimbleHairCare) or curled up in everyday sweats. Did I mention this film passes the Bechtel test? Watch for it. That could be Reason #6…

2. Music You Can Believe

So often films where music is integral to the story but not central to it end up with music that sounds or feels like an afterthought. You know, that movie where the musical choices were left to a music supervisor at the post production stage—or concocted to serve one label group’s roster. Beyond The Lights is a dramatic love story about a music star, but this isn’t a music film per se. Fortunately, this was not used as an excuse to infuse the film with subpar music, or the obvious chart-topping songs of the moment. The-Dream (the producer behind “Single Ladies” among other smash hits) and Taura Stinson (lyricist for Black Nativity and Rio 2) were on board for this project, and the original songs are spot on in the urban pop ear candy department. The music supervision is also fantastic. The use of Nina Simone’s “Blackbird” as both foreshadowing and mirror to Noni’s personal struggle (and that of her mother, brought to life fiercely by Minnie Driver) is resonant beyond the capacity of dialogue.

3. Black On Black Love

American audiences rarely get to experience two gorgeous Black people flirting, courting or riding the waves of the uncertainty of a new relationship without there being some insane level of distrust, violence or dysfunction in the foreground. Thank God for Kaz and Noni, because they represent the tension and the triumph of Black love, free from stereotype and constant mortal danger. Both are gainfully employed; both have strong parental figures. Both have their own goals and dreams, and both are given the freedom to laugh and love on screen. This is rare gold in Hollywood.

4. Nate Parker

This man has had his star turn coming for a long time. After decent sized ensemble roles in The Great Debaters and Red Tails, Beyond The Lights is the role I was waiting to see him in. Nate in a police officer’s uniform? Check. Nate’s upper torso on the beaches of Mexico? Check. Nate’s protective gaze burning into that of his love interest? Chiggy check. Look: generally speaking (and certainly speaking for myself), Black women revel in the protection, in the adoration of the Black man. This makes us no less capable or progressive, mind you. (We’re complex, remember?)To be a sista watching this unfold on screen is to be honored, to be made visible and affirmed as priceless. The man is unequivocally fine. Solid chops. Solid frame. Getchu some here because in real life, he’s married with three kids. Which brings me to…

5. Black Male Vulnerability In Rare Form

Kaz’s father is played by veteran actor Danny Glover. Theirs is a great relationship where they speak to one another openly and honestly. Sure, the elder has a desire to live out his unfulfilled dreams through his son, but the way this subplot gets resolved gives us a chance to see a father and son who respect one another, even as they disagree. No, they aren’t crying together. But that’s not the only way to allow men to be vulnerable on screen, especially with other men. Simply telling the truth without posturing? Yes. More, please!

Stephanie Allain, Producer.

Honorable Mention

Has to go to producer Stephanie Allain (Dear White People, Hustle & Flow) editor Terilyn A. Shropshire (Prince-Bythewood’s go-to editor for Secret Life of Bees and Love & Basketball), and casting director Aisha Coley (Selma, Akeelah and The Bee)–all African American women whose work on this film bring a level of commitment to excellence, a level of unstoppable perseverance—that if you read credits, follow film, or are an indie filmmaker, you can actually feel as you watch this film. These film veterans are artists and executives who consistently deliver stellar work, despite all the barbs the studio system throws at women and people of color. Diversity in Hollywood is more than seeing diverse people in front of the camera; when you support Beyond The Lights, you support them—and support diversity behind it as well.

Have you seen it at a screening or festival? Or seen it already on its opening weekend? Without spoilers, share your thoughts in the comment section! And post your thoughts directly to me @putyrdreams1st.

I saw Quentin Tarantino’s new one last night. More like experienced it. I purposely blocked out any reviews so I could watch it with as little chatter in the background as possible. Tarantino makes controversial films. He draws equal praise and ire–just depends on who you ask. Hate him or love him, he’s a bold visionary. I am not one for gore or bloodbaths but when it comes to much of Tarantino’s work, I just can’t look away. See: Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill, Reservoir Dogs, and Inglorious Basterds. 

 

So when I learned Tarantino was bringing his pen and eye to a film with a freed slave on a mission of vengeance to rescue his wife from a plantation, I was immediately checking for it. I had no idea what to expect, and was willing to put my squeamishness aside yet again. Then more details unfolded. Jamie Foxx was cast as Django. Check. Supported by Kerry Washington, Leonardo DiCaprio and Christoph Waltz. Triple check. Then I saw that “The D Is Silent” trailer using James Brown’s “The Big Payback”. Check. It wasn’t until the cast appeared on BET’s 106 & Park the week of release that I learned longtime Tarantino collaborator Samuel L. Jackson was in the film–as a villainous house slave. Check (now that I had to see). I also found out that Reginald Hudlin (The Boondocks, Black Panther) a producer whose choices and voice I deeply respect was on board. Chiggy check.  It should also be noted that two women producers, Stacey Sher and Pilar Savone join Hudlin on this epic mission. There is also one woman executive producer, Shannon McIntosh. Always a big deal for this blogger when women run the show. CHECK!

Django Unchained is a spaghetti western-inspired love story that takes place during American slavery. It is not about slavery, but slavery is depicted in all its twisted depravity, its horrifying brutality, and its utter insanity–all gnarled like the tree shaped scars on lashed backs throughout the film. Being the period piece that it is, Tarantino gets to let the n-word fly. Being the Tarantino piece that it is, so does the blood. Only this time, the slavers, overseers and profiteers all die at Django’s hand–a hand guided not by brute strength but with intelligence; driven by undying love.

But here’s the cold part about Django Unchained:

No Black director has yet to helm a major motion picture where slaves rebel–and live to tell about it with their soulmate as they ride off into the moonlight. Would this film have gotten the greenlight, the budget, or the marketing support it enjoys with a black director? Hellz no. Even with Tarantino writing and Hudlin producing, I still doubt it. Django Unchained brings into sharp relief just how unenlightened Hollywood continues to be. Now, this is neither Tarantino’s fault nor his problem. His job is to bring his vision to life, which he did to stunning effect here. I’m grateful he did. It opens a new generation of eyes to slavery in a fresh, albeit painful context. And in the absence of a national conversation about the 4-century long slave trade, the Middle Passage (what many call the African holocaust), the genocidal treatment of people of African descent under slavery for profit, and the heroic, at times equally violent efforts of those people to liberate themselves, this film is a damn good conversation piece. Had that conversation been undertaken, slavery in cinema may not be so loaded a subject that we can’t even watch a film in its totality without sweating the obvious. Yes, the n-word is splattered throughout. Yes, it’s hard to hear repeatedly from the mouths of white people. But it was typical of the period.

The flap over this being a “nigger”-filled Tarantino movie that mocks the peculiar institution is getting in the way of substantive critique and discussion. Yes, the film has comedic moments. But real talk, they are necessary–and kept me from crying as human flesh, Black flesh, was whipped, branded, hammered, hog-tied, torn apart by dogs. There is nothing funny about what the enslaved endured–but in my view, they are not the butt of a joke in Django Unchained. In fact, the lynch mob that was ostensibly the ramp-up to the Ku Klux Klan and the bumbling overseers were the ones portrayed as the ignorant criminals they truly were, despite the laws of the day being on their side. Waltz’s character Dr. King Schultz even uncovers Calvin Candie as the ultimate poser using The Three Musketeers. The punchlines aren’t there to coddle white moviegoers. Much of the laughter I heard from them was of the nervous variety. I’m sure they are used to feeling comfortable at the movies since their hero images pervade overwhelmingly. Oh well. Shoe’s on the other foot here. So go ahead, cheer along with the people of color when Django exacts his revenge.

Another cold part about this movie is The Hot Box (just wait). Tarantino literally strips Broomhilda, the character deftly played by Kerry Washington of everything but her dignity and virtue. That’s more than most of American media can say when it comes to portrayals of Black women, from directors both Black and white. She is even acknowledged for being smart because she’s bilingual, a rare quality in slaves, given their mother tongues are cut upon arrival.  I appreciated that for all the harrowing images of Broomhilda being tortured and humiliated, we also saw her radiant, in love, laughing, unspoiled–through her husband’s eyes. Schultz even has a chance to bed her, which would have been customary at this point in history–and doesn’t. Tarantino is putting many an image of Black relationships to shame with this film. The cold part about that? It takes having slavery as the context to get two award-winning, bankable Black lead actors starring as husband and wife in a big budget action film. In 2012. But I digress.

Other cold things about this film:

The complete and total bad-ass that is Jamie Foxx in this role. He lights up the screen with the keen brilliance of the trickster from start to finish. And yet, he gives us glimpses of compassion and vulnerability that are rarely available to Black male characters, who must usually be all funny, all womanizing player, all menace–or some nauseating mix of the three.

The unexpected and wondeful music choices, from the updated Django theme song to original music written by Foxx and performed by Rick Ross and an original song from John Legend. Tarantino is a music head with a great ear and this new approach of using original music along with existing material does not disappoint.

The sweeping panoramas, from the mountains of Yellowstone National Park to the arching trees on the plantation set in Mississippi but shot near New Orleans. Really great to watch Tarantino’s eye work with such scale; with the exception of Basterds and Kill Bill I & II, the film I’ve seen of his are usually focused on close, urbane quarters.

Leonard DiCaprio as Calvin Candie. It could not have been easy to drop into this character, even for one as seasoned as Leo. His big monologue (you’ll know it when you get there) is so raw, so full of molten rage, the hairs on your neck will stand up. So much for the Southern Gentleman. And that’s his own real blood on his hands from an unplanned lasceration during the take Tarantino kept in. WOW.

Thank you Mr. Tarantino for having the courage to make this film and take the heat. Thank you, Mr. Hudlin for lending your perspective and producing chops to this film. And thank you, Django–for giving the Hollywood slave his long overdue and much-needed revolutionary makeover.