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