If you’re like me and have been sleeping on Spike Lee – or just haven’t watched some of his early films in a while – join me in exploring the emotions of Mo’ Better Blues.
Writer/Director/Producer Spike Lee definitely does not hold back in the raw portrayals of how systemic issues impact the way people interact with each other. Until this past year, I had only seen Lee’s “high-budget” films, such as Inside Man (2006) and BlackKkKlansman (2018). As I’ve been catching up on his early “low-budget” films, I have been impressed that Lee has always been committed to presenting tensions unflinchingly, such as in Do the Right Thing (1989). Right on the heels of that, Mo’ Better Blues (1990) is a film that encompasses the emotions of Black Americans navigating race, class, and gender in the U.S.A.
Courtesy of: Universal Pictures
Mo’ Better Blues‘
Directed by: Spike Lee
Starring: Denzel Washington, Spike Lee, Wesley Snipes, Giancarlo Esposito
Runtime: 2 hours, 9 minutes
Harlem Blues
Mo’ Better Blues is not a perfect film, but it definitely explores a range of emotions. This movie definitely doesn’t pass the 3 components of the Bechdel Test: “(1) it has to have at least two women in it, who (2) who talk to each other, about (3) something besides a man.” There are three women in it, but they never talk to each other, and all of them are written where their main focus or concerns are for the leading man. Due to this factor, it popped out to me the film only looks at the way gender roles impact the male characters.
Here’s a bookend example:
The film opens and closes with mirrored instances of a mother being annoyed by “hoodlum friends” of their son trying to play with him while he is practicing the trumpet.
In the first instance, back in 1969, “Bleek” Gilliam (Washington) is subjected to his parents’ outbursts of anger over their disagreement on what is in Bleek’s best interests. Bleek’s mother (Abbey Lincoln) insists the trumpet is the most important thing for him, while his father (Dick Anthony Williams) is worried about Bleek becoming a “sissy.” This interaction seems to establish that the masculine is more important than the feminine, as well as why Bleek is very disrespectful to women in his life.
Even once the movie ends on a montage of Bleek getting married and having a son of his own, inexplicably, it’s his wife – I won’t spoil this! – who wasn’t even there for that opening montage that is telling their son’s friends, circa 1999, not to disrupt trumpet-time. It’s Bleek who allows his son to end the lesson early.
While this is a succinct way of showing that Bleek has grown in seeing that there is more to life than all the pressure that came from excelling at the trumpet, it felt hollow to make the woman he marries – who is nothing like Bleek’s mother – echo the sentiments decades later. I feel like if Lee really wanted to repeat the scene but show how it plays out differently by making decisions that differ from earlier generations, Bleek should have been the one who initially dismisses the children… then his wife calls him out, and he respects her opinion enough to break the cycle he was stuck in as a child.
Luck Be a Lady Tonight
Continuing on the theme of gender only being shown from the perspective of men, girlfriend Indigo (Joie Lee) and singer Clarke (Cynda Williams) are both being played sexually by Bleek. This means that Indigo and Clarke don’t even talk to each other. The one time they’re physically in the same room together to watch Bleek’s band, it’s a debacle with both wearing the exact same dress that Bleek gifted to each out of his hubris. Each talk to Bleek about the other woman but never actually interact with each other.
Despite both Indigo and Clarke being upset by the other’s presence and the embarrassment of wearing identical dresses, they each sleep with Bleek one more time. This leads to a montage of both women being metaphysically present to Bleek simultaneously, as he’s so caught up in his own mind that he can no longer keep his experiences with them separate and calls each by the wrong name. Both Indigo and Clarke stand up to Bleek for not even being able to keep them straight and making it impossible for either to continue ignoring how disrespectful he is being to both.
While it would have better served the women if their portrayals were not solely around a man, I do feel like both women’s anger is real and a valid reaction to Bleek playing with each of them by not being truthful, as well as not generally being good at communication with either of them. To me, this aligns with Lee’s admission during his acceptance speech when being honored at the 2015 Oscars Governors Awards that there is a noticeable difference in his body of work before marrying his wife Tanya and a shift in getting better at representing women after marrying Tayna in 1993.
Beneath the Underdog
When it comes to race and class, Mo’ Better Blues has a distinctly Black American take. Bleek has put everything into his trumpet skills and has gained acclaim in leading The Bleek Quintet, an all-Black jazz band. The film shows that this success is precarious, with many elements needing to be balanced – which Bleek struggles over and often fumbles.
The band definitely has its inner conflicts of egos, with a full slate of talented musicians. But the main clash of ego-tripping is between Bleek and Shadow (Snipes), which is exacerbated by both Shadow’s infatuation with Bleek’s side-chick, singer Clarke, and by the band manager favoring Bleek. This combination explodes into Bleek firing Shadow upon finding out that Shadow has become an item with Clarke since she broke it off with Bleek.
One aspect of race that I appreciated is how Lee flips the narrative by having one of the band members, Left Hand Lacey (Esposito), dating a white French woman. It’s a recurring theme where the rest of the band either dislikes or barely tolerates this girlfriend. When the band manager tries to put his foot down that nobody – no one’s girlfriends – are allowed backstage except the band, Left Hand Lacey asks, “Is it because she’s white?!” I found this pretty humorous and a cheeky way to draw attention both to the experience Black individuals often have when dating someone who isn’t Black, as well as highlighting how this film is almost entirely a Black cast.
On a class scale, Bleek has kept one of his childhood “hoodlum friends” depicted in the opening scene as his band manager: Giant (Spike Lee). Every other person in Bleek’s life says that Giant is holding Bleek and the band back and is not a good manager. I was torn over this element because I thought it was intriguing that even though Bleek’s parents’ forcing his childhood dedication to the trumpet prevented him from playing with his friends – much to their annoyance – Bleek somehow did keep one of those friends anyway, as he rose to success. So, I found it odd that, essentially, the one redeeming quality about Bleek is his loyalty to friends, and yet somehow, that is the same quality that everyone gives him a hard time about.
Even when Bleek does fire Giant as his manager, he still looks out for Giant as a friend due to Giant’s gambling addiction. However, this almost literally comes back to bite him; when Bleek attempts to protect Giant from loan sharks, Bleek’s own trumpet is used against him as a weapon and causes a major injury to his lips, which makes him unable to play trumpet the same ever again.
While I liked the element of the trumpet that Bleek has staked everything on becoming the very thing that takes away his skills and checks his ego, I just could not get with the hate on Giant. Yes, Giant was not a good manager, but he was actually a good friend. In fact, he was the one who told Bleek not to give both Indigo and Clarke the same exact dress – reminding Bleek of a bet they had made back when the dresses were being bought over the likelihood of both women showing up at the same place and time in the identical dress.
This support is shown when over a year has passed and both Bleek and Giant have recovered from the violent assaults inflicted by the loan sharks and cross paths again for the first time. Giant has kicked his gambling habit and is a doorman at the place where the other 4 members of the former Bleek Quintet have become a new band and found success playing gigs. Bleek has been invited by Shadow – who actually has proved to also be a good friend to Bleek, despite their past personal beef – to guest with the band on his trumpet, but Bleek becomes discouraged when the scar on his lip still prevents him from playing properly.
Bleek dramatically leaves the stage and shoves his trumpet at Giant as he exits; Giant yells after Bleek that he can’t get rid of the trumpet so easily, promising not to sell it but keep it until Bleek is ready for it again. Bleek ends up pursuing family life, and all his friends show up for his wedding, as well as throughout a montage of his child being born and growing up. I feel like this underscores how one’s true supportive community is more consistent than the fickle nature of class status.
‘Til the End
It has been an uphill battle for authentic representation of Black experiences in cinema, especially since white supremacist narratives have tried to keep Black Americans stuck in negative stereotypes. I think it’s pretty cool that Lee didn’t just dance around or even subliminally wink at race, even while he was one of the few Black producers, directors, and writers at the time. He unabashedly charted a path while not shying away from emotions, and it certainly helped pave the way for many Black creatives to pursue successful careers in the film industry.
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