A Guide to Black Cinema – Part 4: A Spike Lee Joint

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Guide to Black Cinema – Part 4: A Spike Lee Joint

 

“Are you for the revolution and liberation of Black people?”

…

Who is Spike Lee?

 

It’s a simple question, but one that needed asking. Truth is, it’s been three weeks now – three weeks of dissecting and discussing Black cinema – and yet no word on perhaps the artform’s most prolific and integral creator. Well, amidst my previous week’s work on Black history in cinema and the appropriation of Black culture by white filmmakers, I thought there would be no better time than now to bring Lee into the conversation. This is all in the hope that discussing the Black filmmaker and his innovative creations will lead to a richer, healthier analysis down the line regarding the modernism and futurism of Black cinema today.

 

Shelton Jackson ‘Spike’ Lee is an African-American filmmaker hailing from Atlanta, Georgia, who rose to prominence as a director in the late 1980s. Lee has been cited as an outspoken advocate for Civil Rights and representation in media with his films primarily dialling in on themes of race relations and colourism in typically urban Black communities. He is responsible for kickstarting the careers of multiple famous person-of-colour actors such as Denzel Washington, Samuel L. Jackson, Giancarlo Esposito, Rosie Perez and Delroy Lindo amongst others. His celebrated filmography has consisted of 1986’s She’s Gotta Have It, 1997’s 4 Little Girls, 2015’s Chi-Raq, 2020’s Da 5 Bloods and the list goes on. Perhaps his seminal work came in the form of 1989’s Do the Right Thing, a film centred around escalating racial tensions one hot summer’s day in a Brooklyn neighbourhood and the violence that would proceed.

 

Lee has never been one to shy away from broadcasting the real. His common catchphrase seen laced throughout his filmography are the words, ‘WAKE UP’, as Lee implores his audience to see reason in reality. Its Lee’s perspective and experiences as a P.O.C. that allows his films to inject a sense of raw realism into engaging visuals, enticing dialogue and, most importantly, relevant period pieces.

 

Lee is, what many in the industry would call, an auteur; a director with such distinctive styles and approaches that they command a certain authorship with their work. Basically, the auteur’s art is reliant on the character of its creator and their lived experiences to make sense of the style and approach visible in said art. An auteur may have a distinct visual flare or repetitive motifs that allow their films to standout amongst the rest, like Wes Anderson and his bright, symmetrical framework. The auteur though will also be skilful enough to work beyond the bounds of imagery, making so their filmography encompasses the essence of their thoughts, feelings and philosophies as human beings. Anderson’s style isn’t just satisfyingly symmetrical images but also a linear tapestry of ponderings regarding the troublesome relationships children have with their often childishly mature parental figures, in all their oxymoronic glory. See, its themes the auteur specialises in that just so equally crafts the characteristics repetitively seen in the auteur and their filmography, resulting in a consistent and evolving identity.

 

So, why is any of this important when discussing Lee, Black cinema and his work with period pieces?

 

In an effort not to seem derivative, I will only touch on this point in history one last time, but I would like to recall again Lee’s devasting 2018 Oscar loss for BlacKkKlansman to Peter Farrelly’s Green Book for Best Picture. This, in fact, wasn’t the first time Lee lost big to a white-on-Black movie as Do the Right Thing famously lost awards to Bruce Beresford’s Driving Miss Daisy in 1989. However, the injustices with the most recent 2018 snub are more prevalent as this is a loss for Lee over three decades into his career as an auteur of Black cinema. It’s absolutely maddening that even now in more allegedly progressive modern times, Lee’s acknowledgements are still painfully cheapened when placed alongside movies produced by white directors.

 

For Lee, Black cinema is his film career. He is an auteur of the artform; a craftsman of everything Afro-whatever. Racial tensions, colourism and Civil Rights themes are his bread and butter. It’s laced throughout his filmography and, hence, each film no matter the narrative, the characters or the world it is set in, eventually ties back to Lee’s consistent and evolving identity as a filmmaker and as a human being. Why? Because for Lee, its all a lived experience.

 

Notice the filmography of Green Book’s Farrelly and you will see nothing but goofball comedies from 1994’s Dumb and Dumber to 2001’s Shallow Hal. And don’t get me wrong, I love a bit of Dumb and Dumber but with that filmography you could hardly call Farrelly an auteur, let alone an auteur of Black cinema. His movies have no throughline. No distinct style, both visually or thematically. His movies aren’t really saying or conveying anything to the audience… So, what rich, innovative perspective could Farrelly ever bring to a movie like Green Book, honestly?

 

You look at Lee though and his films clearly, from day dot, have dealt with Black issues from a deep-rooted personal stance. His filmography is built around concepts that Green Book barely even paddles in. Lee’s work engulfs the Black experience mutually in the essence of a Black past, present and future. Hence his work in period pieces regarding Black history offers consistent cinematic forays into the past to better inform our society’s Black present and future.

 

Take for example Lee’s work on BlacKkKlansman, the true story of a Black police detective who infiltrated the Ku Klux Klan in the 1970s. The film isn’t just the true story told beat for beat like Green Book, only tackling issues on surface level, but also a raw personal self-portrait for Lee to display his current emotions regarding his place as a Black man in modern America. Behind its stylised visuals and darkly comedic undertone, Lee uses the film and its policeman protagonist, Ron Stallworth, as almost a stand-in for him, a man working within the system (Hollywood) to provide change on the inside. This not only shows Lee’s current status as a Black revolutionary and his more matured willingness to work in the bounds of the system, but also displays his development from previous, more rebellious, takes on liberation as seen in 1992’s Malcom X which displays Lee’s younger and more aggressive ploy for change.

 

BlacKkKlansman also, of course, depicts Stallworth’s relationship with the Black Panther Movement and his internal struggle to work outside the system to evoke change. Hence, Lee equally displays his own internal struggle to work outside the Hollywood system and evoke a more guerrilla means of revolution. Although, like Stallworth, Lee recognises the power and command he has in the system and ultimately commits to his place in it, baring both the positives and negatives of being an ally with powerful industry connections.

 

Lee also importantly ends BlacKkKlansman with real-life footage from the 2017 Unite the Right rally, the violence that ensued said event and KKK leader, David Duke, amassing crowds under the Donald Trump presidency. This conscious choice to incorporate said footage works to, as Lee constantly puts it, ‘wake up’ the audience to the fact racism is still as prevalent today as it was in the 1970s. The lines between period piece and modernism are blurred. Racism isn’t just solved in a two-hour movie. No. Through his films, like BlacKkKlansman, Lee proves himself an auteur, not only of Black cinema, but also in general due to his consistent, evolving commitment to a theme very passionate and, most importantly, very real to him.

 

Black cinema needs auteurs like Lee, because art and media are integral to our society’s pension for evolving and better understanding perspectives. The true power is in the films, music and social media we consume. So perhaps, when it comes to the liberation and revolution of Black people in our arts and media, its better we have someone like Lee pointing the camera towards what we need to see.

 

 

Read Nahum’s other columns HERE.

 

 

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