Polyvocal Representations of Blackness: a Cross-examination of Django Unchained (2012) and Do The...

29
Victor Kyerematen Polyvocal Representations of Blackness African American Panel (Dis)junctions 2013 UC riverside Polyvocal Representations of Blackness The riot scene at the end of Spike Lee’s seminal Do the Right Thing (1989) remains one of the most unforgettable and yet divisive critical cinematic statements about strained race relations in contemporary America. The brutal murder of Radio Raheem (the self-styled hip hop activist of Lee’s diegetic Brooklyn) by a group of white cops ignites a fuse within the multicultural, poor urban neighbourhood and serves as the antecedent for its violent explosion. Mookie (Spike Lee) heralds the subsequent burning and looting by “throwing a trash can through” the window of the neighbourhood Italian pizzeria Sal’s, while screaming ‘hate’ (Guerrero 78). Obtusely dismissive critiques of the film were quick to claim that it advocated, even validated, violent action as a solution to racial inequality. Some critics went as far as calling it a 1

Transcript of Polyvocal Representations of Blackness: a Cross-examination of Django Unchained (2012) and Do The...

Victor KyerematenPolyvocal Representations of BlacknessAfrican American Panel(Dis)junctions 2013UC riverside

Polyvocal Representations of Blackness

The riot scene at the end of Spike Lee’s seminal Do the

Right Thing (1989) remains one of the most unforgettable and yet

divisive critical cinematic statements about strained race

relations in contemporary America. The brutal murder of Radio

Raheem (the self-styled hip hop activist of Lee’s diegetic

Brooklyn) by a group of white cops ignites a fuse within the

multicultural, poor urban neighbourhood and serves as the

antecedent for its violent explosion. Mookie (Spike Lee)

heralds the subsequent burning and looting by “throwing a

trash can through” the window of the neighbourhood Italian

pizzeria Sal’s, while screaming ‘hate’ (Guerrero 78). Obtusely

dismissive critiques of the film were quick to claim that it

advocated, even validated, violent action as a solution to

racial inequality. Some critics went as far as calling it a

1

“dangerous cinematic provocation to violence” and accused Lee

of an “Afro Fascist chic” based on a “re-emergence of black

power thinking” (Guerrero 18). However this scene, placed

within the context of the film’s formal devices and its

narrative trajectory, emphasizes a nuanced didacticism unique

to only politicized Black Cinema. It offers a representation

of contemporary African American experiences that is polyvocal

and which reveals the way in which these different experiences

are mediated by racist socio-economic institutions and

structures. Ed Guerrero buttresses this observation when he

states that:

The voice most clearly identified with the film’s

overall stance and values comes on the air

at We LOVE Radio. Consistent with Do the Right Things

persistence as an open ended,

Unresolved text vocalizing issues and diagnosing

problems, asking questions rather than posing smug

answers in the style of the classic Hollywood ending, the

voice asks two salient questions posed as an ellipsis.

Mister Senor Love Daddy poetically comments in his wake

2

up call: ‘my people, my people what can I say...say what

I can Are we going to live together. Together are we

going to live? Do we have the will as a people to survive

our inevitable multiculturalism (82)?

Guerrero’s point here, and the implication of

collectivity within Senor Love Daddy’s call, provides the

foundation on which I ground my argument about Black cinema

and its development (sic) over the past two decades.

Subversive Black Cinema (of which Do the Right Thing is an

example) not only critically addresses issues of race, class,

gender and sexuality and their specific figurations within

Afro-American experiences, but also invites audiences to

combat hegemonic and violently oppressive socio-economic

structures that mediate the lives of subaltern people in

America. I argue that the turn of the twenty first century in

America - distinctively marked by the events of September

eleventh- has to a large extent heralded a shift away from

such subversive Black cinema towards Black cinema that feeds

into dominant ideology and racist stereotypes of African-

American experiences. This is fuelled by the problematic

figurations of Manichean ‘Otherness’ that resurged in the

3

public sphere after 9/11. By putting Do the Right Thing in

conversation with Tarantino's Django Unchained (2012), I hope to

support my argument, and by extension, discern how discourses

of ‘blackness’ are being worked out in contemporary American

cinema.

Any discussion of the characteristics and effect of

subversive Black cinema must necessarily consider the broader

context of Black cinema as genre. Thomas Cripps aids us in this

endeavour, by providing a historiographical and analytical

account of Black Cinema, and highlights its fundamental

characteristics and valence within the history of Hollywood

cinema. As one can imagine, the task of neatly defining a

genre of film in this way is a formidable one and as such,

Cripps identifies critical pitfalls early in his project and

cautions against them. Undoubtedly the term ‘Black’ stands out

and, seemingly presents itself as the locus of all subsequent

figurations and variations of the genre in question. However,

it might also lend itself to misguided essentialism and a

flattening of a genre that is truly rich and diverse in its

origins, forms and message. Cripps admits that, “if we were to

4

bring this definition [of Black cinema] to a fine point, we

should argue forever over who has the right to dance on the

head of the pin” (1). Following from this, he lays out a

catalogue of films that appeared to have a singular

radicalized origin and audience, but in fact constituted

instances in which black filmmakers, production companies and

actors interacted and worked with white counterparts. In

addition to this, we find that the reception of such films was

seldom structured around strict racial lines. In this respect

we may agree with Cripps’s contention that “except in a unique

case like Eloise Gist’s film”, it does not seem possible to

produce “a film that in some way did not suffer alteration of

tone, plot, theme pace or character, and even benefited from

the occasional interracial interaction” (Cripps 5). How then

are we to define such as genre that is inextricably subsumed

in the “twoness of American racial life” that Du Bois

critically underscored? Is there a ‘black’ cinematic aesthetic

and if so, how can we identify it?

In order to broaden the scope of Black cinema and to

extend the reach of its critical valence and messages, we must

refrain from concentrating on the authenticity of aesthetic

5

factors and define it according to “relevant social and

anthropological factors” (Cripps 5). From this contention

emerges a dialectic that has been pervasively prominent in all

areas of genre critique, i.e. the dialectics of iconography

vs. thematic relations or as Altman frames it, the

relationship between ‘semantics’ and ‘syntax’ within genre

films. Altman, whose work has been crucial to genre critique

over the years, argues that genre films are identified through

a process of reconciling semantic tropes, i.e. “the common

traits, attitudes, characteristics, shots, locations, sets and

the like”, with syntactic relations, i.e. “as a genre’s

specific meaning bearing structures” (33). We can unpack this

oppositional relation by looking at genre films that are often

most easily identified such as the western. We often identify

this genre through its specific iconography such as arid

planes dotted with tumbleweeds, shady saloons, guns horses and

the ever so charming aesthetics of the American cowboy,

spurred boots and all. However, these are not always

sufficient and are often paired with identification of

familiar western themes; of the thrill and adventure of new

6

frontiers/ borderlands, the relation between man and the law

etc. Altman ultimately posits that genres arise in “one of two

fundamental ways: either a relatively stable set of semantic

givens is developed through syntactic experimentation to form

a durable syntax, or an already existing syntax adopts a new

set of semantic elements” (35). This methodology deconstructs

a fixed notion of genre critique and allows us imagine that

similar to the way meaning is created in language through

diffèrance, genre films can be identified or create meaning

through a system of relationality with other films and

communication with the audience who come to the table with

assumptions.

This fluidity of genre is also characteristic of

subversive Black cinema and it rejects dominant, racist

figurations of Black cinema structured by the tenets of

Manichean binaries. In this way we can see genre as having

“less to do with a group of artifacts than with a discourse”,

informed by specific socio-cultural, political and economic

contexts which also involve the spectating subject and the

film maker” (Altman 33). In this respect Do The Right Thing and

7

Django Unchained, in spite of the race of their directors,

actors and audiences, constitute black cinema in so far as

they engage in the discourse of race relations in America and

its effects on African Americans. Cripps identifies this when

he states that, “viewers might see Black cinema exemplified in

social drama, cautionary tales, musicals, documentaries,

religious tracts and romances” which are marked by an

appropriate repertoire of symbols (6). Evidently, Black cinema

can appear in many forms and engages with other genres in a

way that mediates and often enhances its meaning. In the same

vein, I wish to propose that the thematic and formal

components that characterize Melodrama feature within Do the

Right Thing and magnify its subversive political manifesto. In

other words, I argue that Melodramatic film style and

technique relates to and underlines Do the Right Thing’s critical

rejection of hegemonic, racist figurations of black

experiences within America. I borrow from both Elsaesser’s and

Klinger’s explication of the nature and effect of Melodrama in

order to make this connection. Both theorists highlight the

way certain combinations of semantic and syntactic features

8

produce genre films that stand as “countercinemas within the

province of dominant cinematic practice” (Klinger 80). Using

the schema that they provide as a template, it is possible to

identify elements that point towards a ‘conversation’ between

Django Unchained and Do the Right thing. A critique of the

respective narrative forms, visual style and characterization

present show that, while the two films discuss similar broader

issues of race relations within America, each film pointedly

does so from drastically different political and ideological

viewpoints. Do the Right Thing highlights the oppressive, violent

and structural nature of racial discrimination and visually

demonstrates the fact that the implications of these

structures still resonate in contemporary American society.

Django Unchained on the other hand, while presenting images of

racial violence and inequality, locates these images in the

past and by extension forecloses the broader implications of

racial inequality in a time gone by. This foreclosure of the

political thrust of Black cinema follows an increasing trend

in contemporary society. I ultimately contend that the crucial

moment which instigated this trend towards dominant Black

9

cinema and away from radical Black cinema is the turn of the

twenty first century marked by the infamous attacks on 9/11.

Klinger cites Kaplan who states that “The classic text

describes a dominant mode of production, which masks its own

operation …in terms of covering over ideological tensions and

contradictions” but still seem to create “the impression of

reality” (79) Dominant cinema makes truths claims works to

efface discourses from marginalized points of view. This

contrasts with politicized Black cinema that pointedly speaks

from a “segregated” or marginalized perspective (Cripps 7).

Melodrama also refuses this dedication to realism, and exposes

cinema as a function of ideology. It is in this same way that

we can Lee’s film challenges dominant perceptions of an

essential blackness and foregrounds the polycoality of African

Americans and other marginalized groups within America.

Thomas Elsaesser also provides a framework through which

we can identify the traits of Melodrama that imbue Do the Right

Thing with is sharp political edge. He emphasizes the “parodic”

quality of Melodrama that emanates from its tendency to both

conflate the delineations between heroes and villains, as well

10

as its ability to use hyperbole effectively. Indeed, within

Melodrama the “good/ evil dichotomy” disappears and the

“Manichean conflicts shift away from questions of morality to

the paradoxes of psychology and the economics” and I will

subsequently show how this symbolizes the episteme of Lee’s

project (Elsaesser 372).

Additionally, we see that at Lee adheres to the “parodic”

principles of Melodrama through the way he masterfully

orchestrates the formal components of his film. The

implications of these formal elements are conveyed “The

directors had to develop an extremely subtle and yet precise

precise formal language (of lighting, staging, décor, acting,

closeup, montage and camera movement” as they sought to

illustrate the “expressiveness, and tension” of narrative

Melodrama. (Elsaesser 374). The opening sequence of Do the Right

Thing involves Tina dancing vigorously to the non-diegetic hip-

hop song ‘Fight The Power’ against the “staged backdrop of

blown-up photos depicting the Bed-sty neighborhood” (Guerrero

31). While the song is contemporary, it provocatively echoes

the long history of racial violence and discrimination that

11

black people (as well as many subaltern groups) have suffered.

This effect is enhanced by its juxtaposition with the

preceding song ‘Lift every voice and Sing’. Through this

device, Lee visually encapsulates the crux of this film;

though the two songs are distinctly different in structure,

tone and temporal context, they are inextricably linked by the

message they present, one of racial solidarity and

emancipation from oppression. Furthermore difference works to

create meaning when we scrutinize Tina’s figure movements in

the foreground of the frame. Within the dance sequence, Tina

switches from “tights and a short skirt” to “dance skins” to

boxing gear all while performing the same pulsating dance. The

seemingly erotic pleasure she exudes as she performs in

different outfits reflects the pleasure the spectator derives

from the “combination of sameness and variety” which is the

“linchpin of the generic contract” (Langford 7). There is a

play on difference between the established semantic codes of

black female sexuality, gender and hip-hop on the one hand and

on the other the syntactic relations of black feminist

movements and the struggle for emancipation from economic and

12

racial oppression. Moreover, Tina’s dance, in combination with

the low key lighting and the “red, yellow and brown hues” as

well as the close up shots of her contorted facial expressions

underscore her enthrallment; it is as if she is possessed by

the rhythm and message of the song she is dancing to (Guerrero

31). This evokes the “ritualistic” celebration of the “myth”

of Black cinema, art, religion and history as a whole (Cripps

11). Thus Lee suggests that the life and passion of Black

cinema remains vibrant today, even if in different forms and

even in the face of the drudgery and oppression of urban life.

If we recall the question that was posed earlier about

the different figurations of violence within both films, we

can identify how Lee employs Melodramatic traits to buttress

the political manifesto of Do the Right Thing. Elsaessar purports

that Melodrama is a vehicle for diagnosing a single individual

in ideological terms and objective categories” (Elsaessar

389). Thus we compare the violent culmination of events in Do

the Right Thing (as well as its popular reception) to similar

instances of racial violence in Django Unchained we can identify

a refiguration of racial politics within American cinema.

13

Django Unchained follows the story of an African slave Django

(Jamie Foxx). After being ‘freed’ and trained by a bounty

hunter named Dr. ‘King’ Schultz (Christoph Waltz), Django

travels in search of his wife (Kerry Washington) who is being

held captive by a cruel plantation owner Calvin Candie

(Dicaprio). The film culminates in the death of Calvin Candie

at the hands of Dr. Schultz, and the sequence of events

visually maps striking oppositions between Django Unchained

and Do the Right Thing and places them on either side of a

mirror line within Black Cinema. The mise en scene of Calvin

Candie’s study is saturated and marked by luxury. Soft

lighting, in combination with regal gold and brown hues

presents Candie as a man of great wealth and high class. He

stands with an outstretched arm that will ‘seal the deal’-the

deal being the sale of Broomhilda to Dr. Schultz- and is

framed with a shelves of several bound books in the

background. These bound books symbolize racist patriarchal law

that in many cases grounds white subjectivity and encompasses

all levels of race relations. Moreover, when Dr. Shultz shoots

him, Candie attempts to lean on the globe that was behind him,

14

visually evoking discourses of Eurocentric imperialism and

colonialism and their relation to the Trans-Atlantic Slave

Trade. At this point, one may ask, what is this film trying to

say; is it doing subversive work that rejects these tenets

that have been presented to us countless times before in

Classical Hollywood cinema? I do not believe so, especially in

view of what follows. In what appears as the diametrically

opposite shot to Radio Raheem’s strangulation by “the infamous

and all too often fatal chokehold”, we see Stephen who is

figured as an “Uncle Tom” grasping the dead body of Candie and

wailing in sorrow, with the model globe in the background of

the frame. Arguably, this scene reifies rather than rejects

the history of racism and colonialism for though the

individual Candie is dead, the evil institutions of Trans-

Atlantic slavery still remain symbolized by the globe that

looms in the background. Moreover, by showing Stephen in such

remorse at the death of his ‘master’ the scene merely repeats

dominant figurations of the ‘evil master’ with the ‘loyal

slave’. Undoubtedly the stylized carnage that follows,

complete with the superfluous gore and gratuitous use of

expletives that we have come to expect from Tarantino revenge

15

flicks, is several times more graphic and violent than the

riot scene in Lee’s Do the Right Thing. Yet one would be hard

pressed to find claims in today’s media that Django Unchained

might incite racial violence or tension. In fact, in some

circles the violence that Django inflicts on his white

attackers may even be praised for its thrilling effect.

Perhaps this may be because Django’s ‘epic’ struggle for

freedom and love, as well as its inherent violence, does not

seem able to fully break from its leash of ‘pure

entertainment’. Elsaesser helps us to understand this

dichotomy by showing how violence is used as a subversive

tool, as opposed to a hegemonic one, within Melodrama. He

explains that in Melodrama “violence, the strong action, the

dynamic movement, the full articulation, and the fleshed-out

emotions so characteristic of the American cinema become the

very signs of the characters’ alienation and thus serve to

formulate a devastating critique of the ideology that supports

it” (Elsaessar 388). It is as if the violence in Django

Unchained desperately works to enclose the horrors of slavery

in the past; to suggest that the deaths of his white attackers

16

can be equated to the death of racial discrimination. Rather

Tarantino presents a flat image of ‘good’ African American

slave against the ‘bad’ white slave owners which precludes

Django’s (violent) struggle from speaking to broader

contemporary themes.

On the other hand, Lee’s nuanced construction of the riot

scene was seen as so dangerous and divisive that it was widely

suggested that it would “automatically incite reactionary

(black) mob violence” (Guerrero 19). Guerrero cites Joe Klein

who discussed Lee’s film in the New York Magazine in 1989, and

suggested that Do the Right Thing was “implicitly telling black

teenagers that the police are your enemy... Whites are your

enemy” (Guerrero 20). Evidently, the discrepancy between the

valences of these two scenes lies in the different political

thrusts that the formal and narrative devices present within

them. The sequence that precedes the riot involves the

altercation between Radio Raheem and Sal. A canted medium

close-up shot frames Radio Raheem, Buggin’ Out, and Smiley in

the doorway of Sal’s ‘Famous’ pizzeria. These three young

black men are figured within the film as the most activist and

17

yet the most ‘unstable’ members of what already seem to be an

unstable community. Radio Raheem stands in for discourses of

angry, hypersexualized black masculinity and militant Hip hop

culture while Buggin Out evokes a “passé brand of militant

cultural nationalism that finds little support among the

blocks resident” (Guerrero 30). Smiley represents discourses

of dialectical black politics as he is always marked by one of

the most important motifs in the film, the postcard depicting

a smiling Dr. Martin Luther King and Malcolm X. This range of

characterization strongly support my claim for categorizing Do

the Right Thing as subversive black cinema which portrays

polyvocal representations of black experiences. These

characters not only represent variant discourses that reject

hegemonic racist socio-economic structures, but they are also

among the first to act on theses discourses. It is they who

demand black heroes on the wall of fame filled with Italian

American movie stars/ celebrities- a wall of fame that may

very well point towards a long history of Classical

Hollywood’s disavowal of the great contributions of African-

Americans. They embody the distinctly black manifesto of

18

emancipation and this fact is underscored by the Public Enemy

Song blaring out of Radio Raheem’s boom box asking us to

‘fight the powers that be’. The ‘famous’ pizzeria symbolizes

these structural socio-economic powers that dominate members

of the community, and, Sal (as well as his sons) who owns the

pizzeria figures as its agent. This is underscored by the

imposing red neon sign “Famous Pizzeria” that looms over the

chaotic riot scenes like a corporate logo. Though a congenial

critique may present Sal as sympathetic to the multiracial

members of the community who he affectionately implies are his

‘children’ the narrative and formal elements show that Sal’s

relations with the marginalized members of the community are

not based on altruistic love but ultimately on economic gain

and Eurocentric patriarchal pride. He is shot in low key

lighting from a low angle as he counts a roll of cash. This

combination presents him as an intimidating even sinister

opportunist, not very different from Calvin Candie (who also

loves negroes when it suits him).The patriarchal element and

economic tint of Sal’s ‘good will’ is emphasized when the

camera slowly pans from left to right framing Sal’s two sons

19

first and then Mookie last, as Sal claims “There’s nothing

better than a family working together”. In spite of this Lee’s

does not fall into the trap of essentialism and does not

suggest that Sal himself is the root of racial tension and

oppression. Once again we can see how this move conforms to

the syntactic timbre of Melodrama as the film refuses to

adhere to the strict embodiment of vice. Elsaesser speaks to

this tendency when he states, “the question of evil, of

responsibility is firmly placed on the social and existential

level, away from the arbitrary and finally obtuse logic of

private motives” (Elsaesser 390). Contrast to this, within

Django Unchained characterization reifies the fixed,

construction of black ‘otherness’ as an embodiment of

‘coolness’. This is visually demonstrated in the film as

Django is often framed in relation to Dr. Schultz. In several

of these shots the difference between Django’s flamboyance Dr.

Schultz’s drabness is distinctly emphasized. This constant

figuration of Django as pleasing ‘object’, while seemingly

entertaining, effaces a long history in which black

‘otherness’ has been the basis of Black exploitation. This

20

implicit play on words is not coincidental but points towards

Blaxploitation cinema, a subgenre in which black aesthetics

and idioms were often misappropriated for economic gain. This

reflects Susan Hayward’s claim that through Blaxploitation

movies, Hollywood placed emphasis on “sex and violence at the

expense of the more complex intertwining of identity factors”

within African American experiences (54). Such movies sought

to recuperate the politicized messages of Black empowerment so

that though the “hero may well be a powerful black masculine

presence, the image of militant Black manhood/ womanhood is

gone” (Hayward 54). Thus Tarantino does not explore how such

filmic representations are connected to and form part of a

continuum of socially circulated discourses mediated by

structural power relations, economics and historical

contingency. Lee however refuses to locate and foreclose the

blame of the violent murder of Radio Raheem onto Sal or his

sons. Rather he emphatically points towards the structural

nature of this oppression and discrimination. Thus after the

murder of Radio Raheem and the arrest of Buggin Out, the brunt

of the crowd’s violent wrath falls not on Sal himself but on

21

his pizzeria which stands as the edifice of structural socio-

economic oppression.

Arguably it is this provocative implication: that the

evils of our contemporary American society lie within

structures and not individuals, is what gives Do the Right Thing

its subversive sharpness and differentiates it from Django

Unchained. The historical allusion in Django Unchained is

distinctly antiquated, places emphasis on neat Manichean

schemas and ultimately reflects back a contemporary post-

racial America. The historical allusion in Do the Right Thing

point toward the “Civil Rights Movement and the urban Black

Power rebellions” and suggests that the “same (racially

mediated) issues of just and social equality” have never gone

away (Guerrero 80). In fact, Lee does this explicitly by

referring frequently to the socio-political moment in which

the movie was released. Throughout the film Lee underlines the

political sentiment of the movie by incentivising the audience

to go out and vote out the then mayor of New York who enacted

several laws that entrenched racial discrimination in the

city. This was cinematically illustrated by the graffiti that

22

can often be seen on walls within the movie and which read,

“Dump Koch!” .Thus to a large extent these two films delineate

two different political manifestos. The former, through the

combination of its devices such as characterization and mise-

en-scene present a ‘seemingly’ sharp critique of past racial

discrimination, inequality and violence on the basis of

binaries of black vs. white, good vs. bad. The latter however

presents a sharp critique of racial discrimination and

violence in contemporary America that is grounded not in

individuals but on the Socio-economic structures that mediate

race relations in our society. Observation of the thematic

dialectics in between these two films map a trajectory in

Black Cinema from the latter to the former and I argue that

the socio-political and cultural implications of 9/11 have

greatly shaped it.

Undoubtedly, the events that took place during 9/11

caused incomparably devastating effects and changed the

American socio-political, cultural and economic landscapes

(arguably) like nothing had before. It marked a change not

only in the way Americans saw their relation to the global

23

world, but also the way they viewed the implications of the

multiracialness of the country. New figurations of ‘Otherness’

began to emerge, fuelled by political and economic agendas

that were being fashioned at the time. This new schema of

difference worked on two levels. On the one hand, there was a

concerted movement towards national solidarity in the face of

tragedy, a solidarity that necessarily required the erasure,

or at least overlooking, of the racial, ethnic and class

demarcations that had been so deeply drawn in the years just

before. On the other however, discourses of negative cohesion

emerged from politics, (as it often does during times of war),

pointing towards a foreign ‘other’, and the terrorist. Indeed

these overarching discourses greatly influenced, and continue

to influence American culture and media, and I believe that

film is one of such media where we can identify these

contingent discourses. According to Ruby Rich, 9/11 brought

about a “deep shift in global power structures” and instigated

“unprecedented anxieties as a nation” which ultimately

“altered nature of cinematic digital representation” (110). I

argue that over that such an alteration occurred, to a large

24

extent, in Black cinema in the post 9/11 period where,

resurging deep anxieties around discourses of race and

ethnicity engendered a series of films that sought to paper

over the uneven racial strata and project a post-racial

America. Within several of the films- of which Django

Unchained is a prominent example- there is a “terrible

flattening of complexity in U.S. attitudes toward the rest of

the world and its own history” (Rich 113). In addition to

this, many of these films through a combination of their

thematic and formal devices work to displace the violence and

injustice of race relations in contemporary America from their

actual source-the socio-economic institutions and structures-

onto embodied individuals. By doing so many of these movies

suggest that the problem of racism could be simply boiled down

to equations of “good vs. bad” “black vs. white” or “racist

vs. non racist” and that such problems can be easily solved.

Through its diverse range of characters and the distinct and

conflictual discourses they represent, the film rejects the

"Manichean binary" of black/white and replaces it with "a

polycentric approach," which represents "issues of

25

race...within a complex and multivalent relationality" (Stam

and Shohat 220).

If we borrow from Comolli and Narboni’s thesis that

“every film is political” then we must look critically at

movies like Django Unchained that make historical claims (no

matter how loosely) about African American experiences and

race relations (Comolli and Narboni 481). We must discern

whether or not these series of ‘Black’ cinema which attempt to

soothe the racial tensions that characterize post 9/11

America, “do not reinforce the same structures they wish to

break down” (Comolli and Narboni 483). Rather we must advocate

for the resurgence of Black cinema that is “attentive” to the

still pervasive “socio-economic underpinnings of racial

inequality in America” (Harrison-Kahan 56).

26

Work Cited

27

Shohat, Ella and Stam, Robert. Unthinking Eurocentrism. London:

Routledge 1994

Comolli, Jean-Louis and Narboni, Jean. Critical Visions in

Film Theory. Boston M.A., U.S.A.: Bendford/ St Martins

Publishing 2011

Guerrero, Ed. Do the Right Thing. London. British Film Institute.

2001

Harrison-Kahan, Lori. Inside Man: Spike Lee and Post 9/11 Entertainment.

Cinema Journal Vol 50 no. 1 2010 40-57.

Do the Right Thing. Dir. Spike Lee. Perf. Danny Aiello, Ossie

Davis, Spike Lee. Forty Acres & A Mule Filmworks, 1989. DVD

Django Unchained, Dir.Quentin Tarantino. Perf. Jamie Foxx,

Christoph Waltz, Leonardo DiCaprio, Kerry Washington, Samuel

L.Jackson. New Line Cinema, 2012. DVD

Rich, Ruby. After the Fall Cinema Studies Post 9/11.Cinema Journal, Vol.

43, No. 2 (Winter, 2004), pp. 109-115

Hayward, Susan. Cinematic Studies: Key Concepts. 3th ed.Madison Ave

New York#

28

Cripps, Thomas. Definitions of Black Cinema. Indiana

university press. Bloomington London

Film Genre: Hollywood and Beyond, Barry Langford

29