Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Precious: Not a Ghetto Freak Show


The buzz is at a fever pitch for this movie and for good reason. At least a couple Oscar nominations are guaranteed for this amazingly painful and compelling tale of adversity and ultimately survival.

Based on the 1996 award-winning novel Push by Sapphire, the story, set in 1987 Harlem, follows the tortured and dark life of Clarisse Precious Jones. The obese, illiterate, and pregnant (for the second time by her AIDS infected father) 16-year-old somehow still gets up every morning and makes her way to school, even when her abusive and clearly mentally ill mother thinks she would be better served spending her time at the welfare office.

Director Lee Daniels takes on the challenge of bringing this blistering story, with the help of screenwriter Geoffrey Fletcher, to the screen. Author Sapphire reports that she initially turned him down when he approached her about making the book into a film, but changed her mind after she saw his 2005 directorial debut “Shadowboxer”

Daniels is no stranger to bringing less than attractive, and more often than not, challenging allegories to audience’s attention. Over the last ten years he has tackled issue of racism, pedophilia, and assassins engaged in pseudo incestuous relationships; so one could easily concede that Push was a natural fit in his portfolio.

An Official Selection at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival and winner of three awards at the 2009 Sundance Film Festival including the Grand Jury Prize and Audience Award in the U.S. Dramatic Competition, “Precious” stars Gabourey 'Gabby' Sidibe, Mo'Nique, Paula Patton, Mariah Carey, and Lenny Kravitz.



Newcomer Gabourey Sidibe, in the role of Precious, has everyone talking. Mostly about how different she is from the character that she so convincingly plays. Discovered during an open audition, Sidibe embodies every inch of Precious. Her face seems to easily transform into this blank, but painful mask that barely hides the despair that hangs over her on a daily basis. But it is her three hundred pound body that makes her a target of street hoods and her predatory father. Sexually abused since age three, and pregnant for the first time at 12, it seems the bigger she gets the more her humanity is disregarded. She copes the only way she knows how by constructing fantasy worlds where she is adored by “light-skinned boyfriends” and gets to walk red carpets in beautiful dresses, where she is the center of attention. Daniels uses these fantasy sequences liberally, and at times preemptively, as if trying to shield the audience from what must be experienced if they are to truly connect with the pain and degradation that Precious endures.



The primary architect of that pain is her mother Mary Jones. A shoe in for more than a few awards lists; comedian Mo’Nique is devastating as Mary. Her fans use to her big girl sass and playfulness will find none of it in this boa constrictor tight performance. Mary is cruel with a marksmen precision. Reminding Precious everyday that she is useless and will never be more than the “dumb, fat bitch” that lumbers around their dilapidated kitchen and waits on her mother hand and foot. Her performance also reminds the audience that everyone that has a uterus doesn’t necessarily make a good mother. Mary reeks of pain, which she desperately transfers on to Precious in every encounter. You want to look away, but Mo’nique presents this damaged woman in such a compelling manner that you can’t take your eyes off of her. When Precious brings her newborn son home from the hospital, the audience rightfully dreads what Mary will do once she gets her hands on the baby, because Mo’Nique has artfully convinced us she is capable of anything. For those cinephiles interested in seeing where Mo’Nique first showed potential for compelling characters, check her out in “Shadowboxer”, as the now ironically named Precious.

Of the three major actors, Paula Patton’s performance is the weakest. Her Blue Rain is lifeless, stilted, and unconvincing. Which is a shame since her role as a teacher (who happens to be a lesbian) who goes above and beyond to save this girl is not one we have seen on screen before. By the time Precious is dumping her every thought into her journal you can’t help but wonder how we are supposed to believe she learned anything, and ultimately transformed, as a result of her relationship with this anemic version of Ms. Rain?

Much has been made of Mariah Carey’s diva-free performance as Precious’s social worker Mrs. Weiss. For all those still holding a grudge because of Glitter, I think here is where she makes full restitution. Mariah is believable and accessible. In many ways she is the surrogate voice of the audience, expressing disbelief and outrage at the indignities that has been Precious’s life, and does of fine job of asking the hard questions.

Precious finally meets her light-skinned knight in the form of Nurse John, played by Lenny Kravitz, when she is rushed to the hospital to give birth (her first child was born on her mother’s dirty kitchen floor). Nurse John does the subtle work of convincing Precious, whose world is populated with mostly women, that you can have a grown man in your life that understands boundaries, doesn’t want anything from you and will treat you with respect.

Believe it or not, there are some light moments in this sea of darkness. Precious’s spirited and equally lost classmates, with standouts Xosha Roquemore as diva rapper Joan and Chyna Layne as the wise Jamaican dance hall queen Rhonda, provides the laughter and friendship, however tenuous, that Precious is in desperate need of.

Many cultural critics have come down hard on this little film, especially around the issue of whether putting these long held stereotypes on screen really helps educate mainstream audiences or just validates for them who they believe black people are. I think they are barking up the wrong tree on this one. The performances here are fine tuned and realistic. Daniels and his actors have done the work to make these characters compelling, if not sympathetic. Ask twenty social workers if they have at least one Mary Jones on their case load and 20 Preciouses and they will answer with a resounding, YES! Just because it is difficult to watch doesn’t make it not true. To reduce “Precious” to some ghetto freak show is to do it a disservice - because it has more gravitas than that.

Michelle

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

A Day at the Library

I know it's not like a celebrity sighting, but I was in the mood to get a library card and spend a couple hours roaming the stacks at the Glendale Central Library.

As a kid I loved the library and would walk over a mile to go hang out in the Little Falls Library. OMG! I sound like when your grandparents tell you they walked a mile in the snow, with no shoes, to school. Anyway. I've been trying to get back to the simple things in my life and I've always enjoyed a good book.

And just so you know - the Dewey decimal system is alive and well:) Check out my quick video below and go get yourself a library card if you don't have one.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Film as Reflection

Last month my friend Allie showed me an article about some adoption advocates that were considering calling a national boycott of the suspense movie Orphan. The movie centers on a husband and wife who recently lost their baby and as a result adopts a 9-year-old girl who is not nearly as innocent as she claims to be.

A boycott wasn’t wishful thinking for these advocates because they had already gotten Warner Brothers to delete what they considered offensive “anti adoption” language from a trailer. These protectors of children-looking-for-parents absolutely believe in the power of film and didn’t like that it was not shining a positive light in their direction.

As a side note: You do have to wonder about potential adoptive parents, who watch in horror as the celluloid orphaned bad seed goes about causing chaos and bashing in nuns' heads, and then change their minds about adoption. Do they deserve to adopt a child, bad or otherwise, if they consider the gruesome thriller appropriate research on the topic?

After much eye-rolling Allie declared, “It’s just a movie, people.”
But we can’t pretend that movies don’t have a profound place in our society. It might be through a movie that a kid in India sees a picture of the earth for the first time or girl discovers that she, too, can become a spy. Movies assist in closing gaps and creating common understandings. Movies made a big-eared, black boy from Philadelphia an international film star and maybe made the way for another big-eared, biracial boy from Hawaii to be accepted around the world.

What are movies after all but a filmmaker’s vision of what the world is or could be? For Steven Spielberg it is a world filled with aliens and mystery. For Kevin Smith life is filled with fart jokes and good friends. And every weekend we happily crowd into theaters and join them in their fantasy world.

So, that got me to thinking. The marketplace seems to bear all kinds of films. From the over-the-top gruesome to the delightfully frothy comedy, why wasn’t it seeing the potential in LGBTQ films? The celebrated Milk, starring Sean Penn, showed that a film prominently featuring LGBTQ characters not only makes money but garners awards. But for the most part LGBTQ films are relegated to the film festival circuit, then off to DVD. There are even fewer films that feature black, gay characters in the mainstream consciousness.

Patrik-Ian Polk’s feature film Noah’s Arc: Jumping the Broom did make it to movie theatres, in limited release, and primarily in indie and art house venues. The film, based on the LOGO hit comedy series Noah’s Arc, focuses on the life and loves of four black, gay friends in Los Angeles. Often compared to the HBO series Sex and the City, the movie was landmark in that no other feature film, with four openly gay, black characters, has ever received a theatrical release.

What was actually more surprising to me about this film was the number of straight black women who went to see it. My very straight family friend Brooke went to see it a grand total of four times, dragging friends to discover the quirky and fun world of Noah, Alex, Ricky and Chase. Of course, I had to ask her what about these gay, black men spoke to her - to the tune of $40.00 worth of movie tickets. Brooke disclosed that she never really knew gay people before (clearly I didn’t count) and certainly did not know they could be so “cool and interesting” (clearly I don’t count). I think what Brooke was really saying was that gay people that look like her had never been put in a “regular” context for her. I don’t mean three-piece suit or mowing their lawn in the suburbs regular, but struggling and loving and making mistakes like everyone else. That is what Polk’s film did for her.

Black LGBTQ filmmakers need to continue to add our stories to the film canon. Take the risk like Debra Wilson, Tina Mabry, and Cheryl Dunye of creating compelling, funny, outrageous narratives that allows us to see and celebrate ourselves, and ultimately for others to do the same. Don’t listen to the naysayers or negative nellies. Movies get made because someone believes the story must be told.

I, for one, recognize and embrace the power of film and its ability to shine light on unique stories or even promote tolerance. Look at how it has improved the PR for vampires.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Blog Talk Radio Interview!

Had the opportunity to be a guest on Sippin' On Ink and chatting with host extraordinaire Kat. We talked about GirlChild Press, the future of publishing girls and women, and following your dreams!
Check it out and leave some comments.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Daddyhood: The Movie


Tagline: Fatherhood is going to make a man out of Eric Matters whether he likes it or not.

No there is no bun in the oven! And if there was there would be a lot of explaining to do. The guy to the left is the extraordinarily talented Matthew Brown of Brown Medius. We became friends a couple years ago (he did the final edit on my first short film Spoiled) and now we are both living in L.A.

Last summer Matt got a hold of me and asked me to write him a feature length comedy script. He was interested in directing a mini budget feature that would display his eclectic and versatile skills. He wanted the story to happen in a day, feature a male protagonist, and be funny. This call came at midnight east coast time so I thought I was hearing things. By now Matt had seen my portfolio of work and nowhere in there was male, funny, or situational. But he seemed to think I was a good enough writer to pull it off. A week later we had a treatment we agreed on and I went about the business of constructing the world of "Eric Matters" and the cast of characters that inhabit the Cresten Pine Mall.

Daddyhood is a cross between Friday and Clerks. Our protagonist is a reluctant young father, who is faced with taking care of his infant daughter for the day when his frustrated ex-girlfriend unexpectedly drops her off at his job. During the course of the day Eric discovers what it takes to be be father and how far he will go to fulfill that responsibility. It is a PG-13 film and has a nice feel good ending (after all the madcap and unexpected adventures).

It was a fun story to write and I was surprised how easy. I am now working on a rewrite and Matt is in talks with a "name" actor to take on the lead role. We spent a few hours together yesterday mapping out how we would pull this production off and what it would take to get our quality story on the screen. MONEY!

But besides money we are putting together a package (name actor, budget, production time, audience, etc) that we think will attract investors. So if you have a million or so laying around - hit us up:)

Michelle

Sunday, September 20, 2009

You Can't Cry While Hiking Uphill


My east coast friends are both amused and baffled by my new love affair with hiking. They swear that I have been sucked into the Southern California lifestyle vortex of bean sprouts and healthy living, overnight. The reality is that hiking has turned out to be a happy, soul saving accident.

About six weeks before I was scheduled to leave for California my five year relationship came to an abrupt and painful end. By the time I left DC I was a shell of myself and I was virtually unrecognizable. All the drama and upset had effectively sucked the confidence and joy out of me. Only the love, support, and insistence of family and friends got me across the country - with the hopes that I could pick up the pieces once I got to sunny Los Angeles. But what I discovered, once all the fanfare died down, was that my sadness made it impossible to perform the smallest task at hand. I fixated on the broken relationship and saw myself as a failure. This is not how I had envisioned the start of my L.A. adventure.

My new housemate, an avid hiker, tried to pull me out of my increasingly darkening mood by inviting me on her morning hikes. I had met Carolyn two years ago at a writing fellowship and we became fast friends. She had taken me hiking during a couple of my visits west and I absolutely hated the experience. Tipping the scale at 300 pounds it was like pushing a boulder up the mountain with a q-tip. Impossible.

Every morning we went up on the trail I tried to remember that living in California was to be about new starts and pushing myself beyond what I thought I was capable of. Lumbering my way up Verdugo Mountain those first couple weeks was painful. I felt inadequate and struggled with a great deal of shame that I had allowed myself to get so big that I could barely make it five feet without gasping for air and stopping. Carolyn was extremely supportive, but it was difficult to watch her seemingly effortlessly make her way up the winding ridge, all while controlling two large dogs that outweighed her by at least 20 pounds. It didn’t matter that she had been hiking for over ten years and took extremely good care of her body; it frustrated me that I couldn’t keep up. As far as I was concerned hiking was just another thing that I could fail at. Those first couple weeks I almost never finished the hike.

Then one morning, after another restless night, I decided I was going to go out hiking by myself. I chose Griffith Park which is purportedly an easier hike than Verdugo. The verdict is still out on that. As I pulled up to the virtually empty parking lot, I promised myself I would make it all the way to the top no matter how long it took. The Griffith hike is challenging to me because it immediately starts off with a steep incline. You are walking at least 15 minutes before you encounter a flat lay of land to rest your burning legs and lungs.

That first solo hike I felt every single step, every single curve and bend. I noticed how other hikers stared at me as they passed (running or briskly walking) and I knew they were judging me, doubting that this big, black woman, heaving and grunting her way up the dusty trail, would ever make it to the top. By the time I did I was drenched. I’m sure I looked like a shiny black piece of coal under the hot morning sun. But I had done it. I had made it to the top at my own pace and on my own terms.

By the time I made it back down to my car, and sucked down 16 ounces of water, I suddenly realized that for the entire hour I was up on that trail I couldn’t feel my heartache. My body had only one imperative – get air into my lungs - if I insisted on taking another step. Every other worry was pushed aside.

So, every morning, at least five times a week, I wake up just after sunrise and lace up my shoes. No matter what kind of day I had before or how the day is going to unfold later on, for that one hour I have peace. For that one hour I can’t cry. For that one hour I don’t feel like a failure.

And it’s also nice that I’ve lost 17 pounds.

Friday, September 11, 2009

But Tyler Perry Sucks!


On September 2, 2009, Lionsgate sent out a press release announcing the most heartbreaking news of the day: Tyler Perry (Madea Goes to Jail) finalized a deal to write/direct/produce a big screen adaptation of the 1975 classic and landmark For Colored Girls Who have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf by Ntozake Shange.

A moment of silence, please.

WTF! What about Perry’s body of work makes anyone believe he could handle this complex piece? Yes, his business acumen is to be applauded and replicated, but his filmmaking ability sucks!

For Colored Girls, a choreopoem, made up of 20 poems, performed by seven actresses, addressing the provocative issues of abandonment, rape, abortion, and love took New York by storm. Upon its release the play was heralded as revolutionary and progressive. Not the two words that would ever come to mind in describing Perry’s work.

Perry’s characters are one dimensional and ridiculous. His storytelling is preposterous and riddled with logic problems. But somehow he keeps packing the theatres. Is he really telling stories that black folks can relate to or is he the only game in town, so by default he gets all the attention?

Through his movies he claims to celebrate black women (probably the reason For Colored Girls seems like a good match), but his work is consistently tired and unpolished. He drags out the same old themes in every movie. A Black woman is downtrodden (most likely by a black man). She goes off the deep end. While out in the "wilderness" she finds a “good” black man, but can’t initially see his goodness because she is all bitter bitch. But eventually God will speak to her heart and she will get Prince Charming and the Technicolor life she deserves. The End.

As a black Lesbian, of the feminist persuasion, I know Perry’s cockeyed stories are not for me, but still. I can’t believe his “mentor” Oprah hasn’t pulled him to the side and clued him on the need to up his creative game. I know that money rules everything around us - his seven films have consistently opened at the top of the box office and Lionsgate can’t stop patting themselves on their richer backs – but there has to be a call for good storytelling and solid, believable characters.

And how could I have gotten this far in my rant without bringing up his wig wearing alter ego Madea. She was initially created in his stage play era and is no doubt his most popular character. Is it only me or isn’t it offensive and weird to have this mammy figure (played by Perry in drag) schooling black women how to be better - women?

I have not gotten a satisfactory answer from any of his fans why they accept this campy caricature as legitimate in the face of the homophobia that plagues our community. They mostly poopoo my concerns and write it off as good clean fun. Maybe I could accept that if there was something else in the marketplace challenging his noxious product. But with Hollywood’s continued practice of only allowing one Black, Latino, Asian film up to bat at a time, there is nothing to compete for those precious opening weekend eyeballs.

And there doesn’t appear to be any stopping Perry. In the last few years Perry has spread out to television with his two lame half hour comedies House of Payne and Meet the Browns, released a book featuring the wisdom of Madea, and recently opened his own movie studio in Atlanta, Georgia. It also doesn’t diminish his power that his stories focus on black women, so quite a few talented black actresses are lining up around the block to work with him.

In reality, I am not really hating on Tyler Perry. I am imploring him to go to his lab and stay there, coming out only when he has learned to tell a compelling, rich, and good story. But if a gun-totting Madea comes screaming out of the wings and shoots Lady in Red I won’t be surprised.