Jeffrey Wright shines in this exploration of what makes a project “black”, zeroing in on Hollywood and pop culture’s drive towards only one type of black story, stifling any other forms of expression that don’t fit neatly inside that box.
American Fiction
Directed by Cord Jefferson
Starring Jeffrey Wright, Sterling K. Brown, Tracee Ellis Ross, Issa Rae, and Erika Alexander
Runtime: 1 hour, 57 mins
**Reviewed for the 59th Chicago International Film Festival**
Synopsis
Successful black novelist Thelonious “Monk” Ellison (Wright) is frustrated at how his novels are constantly perceived as non-black due to the subject matter he chooses. Meanwhile, Ellison feels that other rising black writers, like Sintara Golden (Rae), tap into the torture porn of ghetto black experiences to better sell their stories. On a whim, Monk writes a “black” novel in the same style as the people he loathes as a joke. However, when [white] publishing companies love what he’s created, Monk finds himself with larger acclaim and bigger trouble than he could have imagined.
Adapted Erasure
Based on the 2001 book Erasure by Percival Everett (who also serves here as a screenwriter), director and screenwriter Cord Jefferson adapts and wrestles with the same complicated issues within black media as Everett does: the first of which deals with: “What is blackness in media?” Fiction explores this by having Monk (Wright) and Sintara Golden (Rae) represent different ends of the black literary spectrum. On one end, Sintara represents the idea of presenting all black narratives regardless of how messy they might be or how closely they engage with “coonery” – performative blackness to appease a white audience that engages in old racist caricature. On the other, Monk represents the view that those ideas should be buried and ignored in favor of lifting up other black stories and/or the artistic freedom to create something that’s not tied to your blackness.
Real-Life Erasure
We don’t have to look back far to see that dichotomy at play as Wright has discussed experiencing these issues in the Fiction press tour, most notably his refusal to censor the N-word for a lighter version of his role in Ang Lee’s 1999 film Ride with the Devil (Variety, 2023). Sure, Wright can talk about those issues now that he’s receiving some buzz (that I’m fondly dubbing the Wright-naissance), but had he pursued these problems too hard or made too much noise, he would have quickly been labeled as “difficult” or “too black” or “just another angry nigger” which can effectively derail any promising black acting career. Or, it can constantly put you back and forth into the dog house…like Spike Lee.
Noted YouTube essayist F.D. Signifier posted an incredibly well-timed video essay regarding “coonery” that uses Lee’s film Bamboozled as the catalyst. He discusses how it was birthed through frustrations Spike Lee felt in the 1990s with his first films before releasing Bamboozled in 2000 as a way to process this friction. I won’t spoil the content of Signifier’s video as it’s worth a watch, however I will say it’s a great break down of how the elements of capitalism and racist caricatures have come together to make the act of coonery more complex. This issue is more than simply doing a “mammy” – historically inaccurate characterizations of black women who worked in white homes, with portrayal in media relying on mannerisms and speech patterns that are largely subservient and deferential to white authority figures – or calling someone a sellout for providing that type of content (we’ll get into that later).
Jeffrey Wright’s Time Is Now
I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the Wright-naissance that’s been taking place the past few years. My first recollection of him was with Daniel Craig’s first 007 film Casino Royale (2006), but it would be Westworld (2016-2022) where I got my closest look and appreciation for his acting prowess. He has always had this ability to nestle into a role without disappearing, responding well to his fellow co-stars, but perhaps his smaller parts didn’t showcase how much he could actually handle (or how wonderfully rich his voice is, which he recently has been able to showcase in Marvel’s What If…? animated show…if you’re not careful, it will give you the vapors).
His recent upturn, taking on Commissioner Gordon in Matt Reeve’s The Batman (2022), playing back-to-back roles in Wes Anderson’s The French Dispatch (2021) and last year’s Asteroid City, has finally culminated in a role that allows him to pour out all his frustrations as a black actor. Blurring the line between Monk and Wright, his performance develops past a criticism of racial caricature and morphs into a pointed critique of a Hollywood that took this long to give him something to sink his teeth
While an Oscar nod seems assured (UPDATE: Wright has been nominated for Best Actor for the 2024 Oscars!), if this doesn’t gain him at least more starring roles in Hollywood, we’ll see how much the entertainment capital of the world was really paying attention last year.
Flanked By Blackness and The Fourth Wall
Having Tracee Ellis Ross and Sterling K. Brown play Monk’s sister and brother, respectively, is an inspired choice…if only because they look nothing alike. However, if you get stuck on that, you’ll completely miss how seamlessly this trio works together in their various moments. Ross and Wright have some incredibly tender moments in their early scenes together and as the story transitions more to Brown and Wright, it allows them to explore different familial issues with Ross’s absence in the later acts. The clips circulating online may be focused on Monk’s writing and interactions regarding the book, but these family moments are the actual emotional core of the film.
And that extends to Monk’s burgeoning relationship with Erika Alexander’s Coraline. There’s a not-so subtle thread that Monk has a hard time respecting women’s opinion, but the larger issue is that he’s incredibly dismissive of any differing opinions (which is magnified with the family stresses and issues he deals with during the runtime). Coraline’s sudden appearance in his life serves as a nice nexus point for dealing with these issues. As much as we want to root for these two however, we ultimately know what’s holding Monk back is rooted in the same elitism and misogyny that’s also keeping him from connecting with Sintara’s viewpoints.
Alexander’s inclusion, as a black sitcom icon with Living Single (1993-1998), seems particularly pointed given the subject matter and Wright’s own struggles. Single never found much success among white audiences, though it resonated within black spheres as Generation X started to venture out into the workforce and world at large (the same generation that was deeply invested in Spike Lee’s projects during that same time). While Alexander had some success in smaller projects and consistent work, she’s never had another major hit like Single nor the critical acclaim that another show on the same on network received a year later….
Legacy of Black Stereotypes in Media
Looking through black cinematic history, there’s countless examples on how the friction of black performers appeasing white audiences has played out. For example, we can look at Gone with the Wind (1939) with Hattie McDaniel and the backlash she received for playing a “mammy” stereotype. While McDaniel would go on to be the first black performer to win an Oscar for her supporting role, she couldn’t even attend the film’s premiere in Atlanta, as it was a whites-only theater …and for the Oscar ceremony, she could only attend while sitting at a colored table. Coupled with segregation, McDaniel had to deal with the friction her performance created between fellow black performers and various black activists around the country who came out strongly against her roles.
The argument made by the NAACP and other groups / individuals reverberates today: her performance and continued portrayal of that harmful stereotype caused immeasurable and untold damage to the perception of black artists. McDaniel’s mammy and others – like Mantan Moreland’s Uncle Tom with his wide-eyed facial expressions and comedic gestures – largely pigeon-holed black actors that wanted to do anything other than the same degrading jokes and physical mannerisms that white culture had projected onto them.
That said, the same reason we may take it easy on McDaniel and Moreland is because capitalism and white supremacy create a systemically problematic media landscape (though if you’ve only heard McDaniel’s name as a central figure in the Mammy / Uncle Tom’s caricature debate / conversation, and not Moreland, there’s certainly a misogynoir element to dissect). Even in the heyday of McDaniel and Moreland, most performers hesitated to call out their fellow peers, not only for fear that they will get blacklisted or lose out on roles (which was and is still an economic reality) but they also understood how hard it is to exist in the same space. Civil Rights activist and prolific writer James Baldwin described that dichotomy as a rage:
“To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a state of rage almost all of the time.”
That rage, when it comes to making movies, is the weight of white expectations and what happens when you step outside of that box. I believe that’s the frustration that Spike Lee was pointing out with Bamboozled, that Fiction has so richly laid out for us, and what black performers have felt ever since the beginning of Hollywood. No matter how successful you are, you can quickly be pulled back into this box and be forced to debate or tangle with fellow creatives who have also been dragged into the same mud pit.
Conclusion and Recommendation
This debate has been going for a long time (and deserves a deeper dive) and American Fiction leaves us wondering what the right answer is. They showcase why Monk is right for being uncomfortable with black caricatures that mostly entertain white audiences – while also highlighting that the stories of lower-income black neighborhoods as depicted by Rae’s Sintara, despite who they may entertain, aren’t being prioritized due to elitist views held by the powerful black elite. Yes, if you’re paying keen attention, the film lays out the case for why even the caricatures of black ghettos may have value. If there’s one failing of this film, this class-stratification element needed to be explored further to nail down how both characters don’t neatly represent the wealth and social classes they think they do.
That aside, Fiction is going to keep audiences thinking for decades to come, provided they are willing to wade into the messy gray-ness that exists between racial caricature and truly free black creativity that doesn’t have to answer to white expectations. Would recommend a theater visit if you’re keen to support great projects like this or rent the film when it becomes available.
Score: 9.5 out of 10
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