It is difficult to fully grasp that doing a docuseries like “Hollywood Black” especially when one knows much about the chosen subject will most likely never be as comprehensive as one would want it to. After all, four-part series directed by Justin Simien (“Dear White People”) adapted from the book of the same name by film historian Donald Bogle will air on MGM+—a network that does not have a history or a catalogue like TCM or Criterion Channel. And that’s why it’s so important to change your attitude towards anticipated outcome.
However, a documentary series cannot be based only on intention. For this reason, Simien brings together a team of accomplished individuals (academics, actors, filmmakers and producers) to speak on Hollywood history from a point of view of black Americans. His central argument is correct – Hollywood can’t exist without black people and his happiness about this topic is genuine. However, it seems that there isn’t enough material to back up such excitement.
The aspirations behind “Hollywood Black” are often betrayed by its skimpy runtime. The first hour for instance tries to squeeze over sixty years of black cinema into just under an hour. Consequently, early black filmmaking chronology becomes a more tidy timeline for that matter. A pioneer like Nina Mae McKinney was not highlighted while Josephine Baker only gets mentioned briefly (instead focusing on Fredi Washington). At some point in her interview Issa Rae says no other black director was producing and directing films apart from Oscar Micheaux; however, this sweeping statement disregards individuals like Richard D Maurice and brothers Noble as well as George Johnson among others.
The first episode is charged with an early tension. While scholars such as Racquel Gates, Jacqueline Stewart, and Bogle are providing deep background, the celebrity talking heads have reduced history to only general statements that they expect everyone to understand and relate to. That tension illustrates Simien’s efforts to strike a balance between the research component of the docuseries and its accessibility which is determined by showcasing participants from the worlds of entertainment.
Although there are many Black women directors speaking as talking heads in this docuseries – Ava DuVernay, Gina Prince-Bythewood, Cheryl Dunye, Melina Matsoukas, Lena Waithe and others – it hardly ever gives space or time for black women film making. How does one make a documentary about Black filmmakers and not include Kathleen Collins? Except for “Daughters of the Dust”’and “The Watermelon Woman,” when we talk about black female directors in this series; we mean mostly Hollywood ones. Although that decision makes sense up to some extent because after all it is called “Hollywood Black,” there are important parts of black cinematic history that have been erased. There are hardly any contemporary Black women directors—neither Ayoka Chenzira nor Cauleen Smith nor Zeinabu irene Davis.
Simien was short on time again though; aiming at being exhaustive is almost dumb. But what gets cut for time says something. Ultimately, “Hollywood Black” becomes a male-centric history lesson with just occasional detours into women’s contributions.
There’s enough lacking in “Hollywood Black” that it nearly obliterates one from seeing how much history exists there in it. For example very few mainstream documentaries have even attempted to situate blackface in minstrelsy undertakings. Bert Williams’ genius is recognized here. The little-known unreleased silent feature Lime Kiln Field Day (1913) starring Williams is properly situated as the oldest surviving Black-cast feature (presently streaming on Criterion Channel).
Simien also shines a light on Charles Lane, the director of “Sidewalk Stories”. And while it is heartening to see Bill Greaves’ mockumentary pushing boundaries like Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take One being mentioned, the conversation between Simien and DuVernay which has the former’s own strange take on Greaves’ film can be hard to watch in some ways because there seems to be little thought behind their critique.
That does not mean that Simien’s first person perspective is not valuable. He speaks strongly about how much The Wiz meant to him. As Simien looks up at footage from this still under appreciated blaxploitation musical, one can feel the sheer joy in his voice. It is evident that Simien intends for this series to celebrate black creativity—hence excluding Bill Cosby from the history of black Hollywood by highlighting Richard Pryor whilst still paying homage to Tyler Perry and his side steps help him avoid being too controversial or offensive.
However, I would have liked more on what versus how cinema in this film. When Ernest Dickerson discusses how lighting for black skin has evolved over time, it is biting and thought-provoking. However, Simien doesn’t go into the craft as much as one would want him to. Instead he adheres to broad brushes of what these developments mean towards progress. This should take note of when chatting with friends regarding their artistry within their movies in his own show.
Simien criticizes the manner in which Hollywood exploited Blaxploitation only to then switch to Rudy Ray Moore (a non-mainstream filmmaker). At another point, he makes a sweeping statement about movies of the late-70s but includes “Black Belt Jones” (which was released in 1974). Furthermore, these mistakes are further made worse by his omission of Ossie Davis’ “Cotton Comes to Harlem,” a film that started it all.
Many of these complaints are based on the reality that most viewers of “Hollywood Black” will not be searching for obscure references nor would they notice many confusing cuts and changes employed to mold history. This is supposed to be an introduction series. All you can do is hope that it intrigues enough people into more probing. For this reason, “Hollywood Black” could be called somewhat successful.
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