Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song (1971)

 

Fifty years ago, Melvin Van Peebles dropped an incendiary cinematic bomb with the release of Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song, a film that is often misclassified as blaxploitation. Blaxploitation is the label given to '70s films with Black themes that were created by white filmmakers, targeting Black audiences. Sweet Sweetback was an independent satirical protest film, funded and directed by a Black man, that has relevance two generations after its initial release.

The film was written and directed by Van Peebles, whose earlier film Watermelon Man (1970) was trashed by The New York Times as a messy, unfunny waste of his talent. Sweet Sweetback is a disjointed and uneven tale of political pandering, police corruption, community disintegration, religious fraud, false arrests, narrow escapes, violent retaliation and sex. Van Peebles is the title character, a man raised and exploited by prostitutes, who finds himself friendless after he is targeted by police needing an arrest after the murder of a Black man. Van Peebles's character spends most of the film running from the police.

Sweet Sweetback was added to the Library of Congress's National Film Registry last year, and, to my mind, is more important for what it says than how it says it. It is not a model of great filmmaking, but, in many other ways it is a great film to see and discuss, to wrestle with Van Peeble's sardonic vision and dark defiance and the picture's warning that those wronged will eventually return to "collect some dues."

The Crowd (1928)

Occasionally my mind wanders back to a silent film I watched when I bought my first video cassette player (it didn't record). King Vidor's The Crowd (1928) dates back to the movie era right before sound but is a classic because its story of lucklessness is pretty freaking universal. The young couple at the center of the picture are nice as they can be even though John is a big talker (well, you know what I mean) and Mary has big hopes for them and is not real good at hiding her disappointment -- especially when his successful buddy is around. The marriage doesn't seem to be working when Mary gets pregnant. John commits to sticking with it and doing better, but he's a faceless drone in an insurance company, another suit in a New York office, and can't seem to make his mark -- until, a detergent company buys his contest-winning slogan for 500 smackers. Now he and Mary and their kids will be on Easy Street! Except, when the happy parents call their kids from their apartment window to come see the presents Daddy has bought with his winnings, the littlest one gets hit by a truck while crossing the street. Yes, it's a festival of unhappiness (albeit with a fairly bright ending) that puts all of the news of pandemic pain and misery in a new light.

Little Richard

Crystal Closet Queen (1971)

To say Little Richard was conflicted is certainly to understate the case. Out/In, Gay/Straight/Omnisexual, his story shifted over the years. It seemed like he couldn't square his sexual nature with Jesus. He ultimately denounced LGBTQ as contrary to God's plan.

Leon Russell may have taken some liberties when he wrote this tune about Little Richard, swapping gender references and titling it what he did. But, to me, it is an affectionate tribute to a man whose style of rock 'n' roll was all through Russell's own high-powered, piano-pounding, scream-and-shout revivalism.

"There's a rainbow around my beautiful face and I'm living in a pot of gold."

Homer Price / reflection

Some of my earliest reading adventures were with Homer Price. I read the crazy doughnut story, which has been made into movies, dozens of times and especially loved it when the poor kid -- Rupert Black -- got the doughnut with the diamond bracelet. Even though the passage below would surely give some folks fits, there seems to be a guilelessness to its offensiveness, and Robert McCloskey was such a mensch that it's hard to get mad.

"(T)onight (Friday) was the dress rehearsal of the Pageant. Homer and Freddy and a couple of their friends were taking the part of Indians. They were going to be powdered all over with cocoa, striped with mercurochrome, and draped with towels around their middles. Homer had to get to rehearsal right on the dot, because he started the Pageant by rubbing two sticks together to make a fire. Most of the Pageant was historical, all about Ezekiel Enders and the founding of Centerburg. The organist of the African Baptist Church wrote the words and music for a long choral work, which the choir was going to sing all the while the Pageant was being acted."

In White America / reflection

Much of my life has been about making discoveries and connections.

One of my earliest memories of serious theater was a production of Martin Duberman's "In White America," performed in a small chapel at Claflin College. It may have been reader's theater. It was 1970 or '71.

I was not familiar with the work but was riveted, chilled and touched by the stories, documented tales of personal and impersonal encounters between the races. The six member cast of black and white actors was a mix of students, faculty and guest performers. In looking back, I figure that by the time I saw this staging, the play had been circulating for a few years. It's original off-Broadway production in 1963 included Moses Gunn (a distinguished stage performer and co-founder of the Negro Ensemble Company) and Gloria Foster (later known to millennials as the Oracle in the Matrix films).

She won an Obie for her performance.

Duberman was born in 1930 the son of a Ukrainian immigrant. He is a historian, biographer and retired professor who was also a tireless civil rights and gay rights activist. In the preface to the 1964 edition of his play, Duberman wrote (in part):

"My starting point was the wish to describe what it has been like to be a Negro in this country (to the extent that a white man can describe it). Neither popular journalism nor professional history has made much effort to tell this story. Both have been dominated by whites, and the whites, whether from guilt, indifference, or hostility, have been slow to reveal the American Negro's past. The revelations are painful, but they must be faced if the present is to be understood, and the future made more tolerable."

Here are a couple of scenes from the play's Second Act.

Joker / reflection

A critical and unsettling moment in the film Joker showed the slowly crazing clown-for-hire Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix), who had just discovered a connection between his family and Gotham City's most powerful industrialist, reaching through the gates at stately Wayne Manor and using his thumbs to push a smile into young Bruce Wayne's face. It's sad and creepy and for this viewer a foreshadowing of the masked misery that lay ahead for both characters in the universe of Batman lore. But it also struck me as a larger statement from director / writer Todd Phillips and co-writer Scott Silver about the lack of authenticity in human interactions. We smile but aren't happy. Ask "how are you" but don't actually care. We clap, stand, kneel, march, weep as the crowd dictates and attack those who don't do as directed. Fleck / Joker laughed when he was nervous or upset because of faulty wiring and his condition brought on several beat downs because he was off-script and the world could not handle it. The madness that eventually led to societal chaos was not of Joker's making. It and he were products of society's relentless despair. The last scene of a "city on fire" was a metaphor for our current condition of deepening dysphoria.