theblackactor.com

Thandie Newton

I liked her in Crash (2004). I thought she gave a solid, credible performance as Christine Nayer, wife of Director Cameron Thayer (Terrence Howard).

    

She was also good in Shade (2003) as con-artist/grifter, Tiffany.

    

I liked her in The Pursuit of Happyness (2006) even though she was bichin and moanin’ brooding and frowning throughout most of the film.

    

In The Pursuit of Happyness, Newton shows up once again, noticeably skinny thin. The physical must be taken into account when it detracts from the actor’s performance. I was distracted from the elements of her performance, since I thought Newton appeared frighteningly emaciated, I was just saying to myself over and over, “Wow!  My God. She is so thin.” Then I was thinking about dumb stuff like, “Is she starving herself?”, “Has she always been a little lady?” blah blah blah. So, I probably missed half of what she said and did in the film. 

    

I think she’s a talented actress. And I hope to see more of her… literally. Oops.

You Guys Like Taye Diggs?

Eh. 
    
Not for nothing, but dude doesn’t really do it for me.
    
Diggs’ first film was 1998’s How Stella Got Her Groove Back. Diggs’ portrayal of Winston Shakespeare, boy toy to Stella Payne (Angela Bassett), was dull, like most of the roles I’ve seen him in. 
    
Taye Diggs’ attempt at mimicking a Jamaican accent was equally unimpressive. If you’re going to do dialect, do it. Train for it. Practice and study. I’m reminded of Al Pacino’s terrible Cuban accent in Scarface (1983). Yet, his performance was still seen as credible because he is Al Pacino and because of the other elements of his performance. And I think the cinematic virtues of the film overshadowed his faux pas. But the mistake is inexcusable, even for him. 
    
Diggs co-starred as the bandleader in the 2002 film, Chicago. And his previous credits include lead roles in The Best Man (1999) and Brown Sugar (2002). He wasn’t bad in these films. Maybe he was good in them.
    
I think Hollywood likes him. They certainly like his body (Djimon, you’re not the only one). I figure they must since we often see him in his underwear and in Stella, we get a view from the back… and there is no underwear. I’m just sayin’.
    
I haven’t seen Diggs’ other work except for a few moments of one episode of his TV series, Kevin Hill (now, cancelled).
    
But my initial thought about Taye Diggs is…
    
Eh.

T.I.

Rapper T.I. (Clifford Joseph Harris, Jr.) made his film debut in the film, ATL (2006). He was cast as Rashad; caring big brother, parental figure and teen coping with and growing up in Atlanta’s Mechanicsville nabe (the hood).  In addition to being a father figure for his younger brother Ant (Evan Naess Ross), Rashad, a talented artist, is a regular urban teen who likes girls and hangs out in the local roller skating rink.
    
I liked T.I. in this film. The role didn’t call for incredible range or anything. Nevertheless, I thought he was good in the film.
    
Why, I asked myself, did I like him? He seemed natural; real. I was completely into his character and never thought of T.I. as a rapper straining to be an actor. I enjoyed watching him in the pic. The character was engaging and T.I. made you pay attention to him and care about him. He did the role justice and was seemingly, perfectly cast for it… given the kind of film that it is.
    
I think T.I. should be proud of his first outing. T.I. has two more films in the pipeline. So, we’ll watch him... and see if he blooms into an actor of substance.

Does Djimon Hounsou have a responsibility to stop playing certain roles?

Of course, Djimon Hounsou is being typecast. We can talk about race, or about Mr. Hounsou’s dark skin, or his African heritage, but we won’t.
    
We’ll talk about an actor who is known the world over; an actor who is the recipient of widespread industry praise and recognition for his talent; an actor who, on three occasions, has accepted the same role. The first time; okay. The second time; maybe. The third time; why?
    
Which role is this?  It is the role of the African Native enslaved [or imprisoned] who is set free in large part, due to the efforts of a white man (Anthony Hopkins, Amistad (1997); Russell Crowe, Gladiator (2000); Leonardo DiCaprio, Blood Diamond (2006).
    
Does money and fame, principle and integrity, injustice, age (he’s no spring chicken at 42) figure into the answer? Has he ever questioned his choices? Is he questioning his choices? If so, what has he told himself? I wonder.
    
At the end of the day, typecasting involves complicity on the actor’s part.
    
Naked.  Sweating.  Screaming.  Oh My.
    
Whenever I see him he is naked, half naked or at the very least, shirtless. In Amistad, he was full body naked. He was half naked in Gladiator. And again in Blood Diamond, he was full body naked at a point in the film. In the pic, In America (2002) his bare chest was there for us to see. In all those films he was screaming or sweating at one point or another. In his first onscreen appearance in In America his first utterance of dialog was wordless. Instead, he was screaming his head off. 
    
Yes; I know the roles called for him to be screaming… or sweating… or enslaved… or separated from his family. I understand this. When you consider each role individually, it makes sense. But when you look at these roles collectively, a disturbing pattern emerges.
    
Amistad
African Native enslaved and imprisoned, Sweating, Screaming
Separated from his family
    
Gladiator
African Native enslaved and imprisoned, Sweating, Screaming
Separated from his family
    
In America
Sweating, Screaming
    
Blood Diamond
African Native enslaved and imprisoned, Sweating, Screaming
Separated from his famiy
    
Does Djimon Hounsou have a responsibility to stop playing this character? I don’t know the answer to the question. I am, however, tiring of these images of this actor. That I do know. I really like this guy, though. And I hope In the future, he has better offers and makes better choices.    

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White Male Domination - Blood Diamond
Djimon Hounsou

White Male Domination - Blood Diamond

In Blood Diamond (2006) Danny Archer (Leonardo DiCaprio) was always the level-headed one in control. White male domination rears its head again in Hollywood cinema. We see this often. Too often.

    

It only makes sense, since these depictions are channeled through the eyes of the white males who dominate the industry. I expect these images will persist as long as this domination does.

    

(Of course, it is up to us to counter these images; but that’s another story; another post.)

   

For example, in the following scenes (discussed in order of occurrence) Archer demonstrates his confident swagger; from the very beginning of the movie. Archer's hubris is often manifest, image-wise, at the expense of black males in the film:

    

• Archer barks instructions to his comrade, the helicopter pilot, Nabil (Jimi Mistry).

 

• Archer sashays, all cool-like – with confidence and a cigarette, as he approaches the compound of Commander Zero (Percy Matsemala). In this sequence, Archer is in a situation of both power and defiance when he seeks to visit with Commander Zero, for the purpose of making a deal -– diamonds for weapons. In this sequence, Archer walks away from a guard –- his back facing the gun-toting, hostile guard who, moments ago, had Archer at gunpoint. When Archer forced his way into the compound to meet Commander Zero, he demanded Commander Zero pay him first for the weapons and when Zero didn’t come up with enough, Archer demanded he proffer up more diamonds. Archer makes threats. And he gets more diamonds. He wins. Winning. He is always in command of himself. Commander Zero, though heavily guarded by armed henchmen, complied and bent to this white man’s will and logical reasoning.

 

• Archer was intercepted at border security, attempting to smuggle diamonds into Liberia. He had the balls to try to bribe the border security. Confidence.

 

• There are the small things. I don’t think these things can be overlooked. There was a scene where Archer and Vandy were under brutal gunfire by the rebel soldiers and were running for their lives. here was an instance in the sequence when Archer says to Vandy, “lie low.” I’m quite certain Vandy’s innate instinct for survival would have led him to know to stay low. This “instruction” directive was unnecessary. But Archer was controlling that sequence. I’m just sayin’.

 

• Then there is the scene when Archer comes up with a brilliant idea. Before the idea was explained, during the scene, Vandy asked Archer, “What do I do?” (again, the small things; Vandy looks to the white man for guidance). The plan was for Archer to pose as a prisoner and Vandy would pretend to be a captor. Archer was planning to murder the RUF guards who blocked their way to the bridge. Well, sure enough, Archer killed the two guards and the third RUF scurried away in terror and was also killed by Archer. Amazed at the brilliance and execution of Archer’s plan Vandy stands there, awestruck.

 

• When Benjamin (Basil Wallace) was shot by the child soldier, Archer drove the car and saved the day and got the black man to safety and medical attention.

 

• The scene when Archer instructs Vandy to pretend to be a cameraman (another brilliant idea from Archer). Amid resistance from Vandy, Archer explains that if he wants to see his child again, he must do this.    

And that ties in with the fact that it is white people (Archer and Mandy), who have the power to reunite Solomon with his family.

    

• Another brilliant idea -- Archer asks Journalist Mandy (Jennifer Connelly) to occupy the guard while he goes into a tent to steal supplies. Specifically, Archer told her to interview the guard, and pretend she wanted his story and photograph for a magazine article. It was a ploy designed to occupy the guard’s attention.

 

• There was a scene when Archer threatened to kill Vandy if he left to get his son.  Archer finally gave in to Vandy’s demand to search for his child, but still mandated that if there was going to be any son-searching, it would be done at nightfall (which actually made sense. Ah... the voice of reason.)

 

• As it turned out, it was Archer who saved Vandy’s son.

 

… blah blah blah. There’s more.

    

These scenes are just a few examples of Archer’s white male domination. Over and over again we see Archer is always in command, never fearful, always in power, always needed, always has the upper hand, always smart, always clever, always crafty. Everything he does is done with confidence and purpose. He even dies on his own terms.

    

Archer was a soldier, previously. This might account for some of his actions. However, whether or not we are to believe Archer’s actions are governed by this fact is not in question here. The purpose of this post is to merely present another example of white male domination in Hollywood cinema. This domination often presents quietly, but it’s there.

 

 

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Djimon Hounsou

Does Djimon Hounsou have a responsibility to stop playing certain roles?

 

What they're offered vs. what they choose

Sometimes I wonder, when watching a film -- particularly one in which a black actor plays a stupid ridiculous, embarrassing, or otherwise buffoonish character -- how it came to be that the black actor I’m looking at, ended up in this film. 

I ask:

Did the actor choose this role -– and reject others -- believing it would be a good role for him to play? Is it possible that the actor was ignorant to the meaning of the role and didn’t see what was ultimately an intrinsically bad choice?

Did the actor know full well the ramifications of accepting a sub-par role yet had no compunction about what the choice represented? This is the fraud actor uncommitted to his craft who, because he’s driven solely by monetary reward, opting for the money.

Is it that there are so few roles available, the actor thought it prudent to accept this role thinking, “If not this one, which one? When will the next one come along? What if the next one is bad, too? Let me go ahead and get while the getting is good.” Conversely, the actor may figure there will be other roles... other greater roles in the future. But right now, I need exposure… and dough.” 

When black actors accept third-rate roles, I wonder if they hate themselves. I think sometimes they must.

What does one do? Do you accept what is available so that you can keep working, keep benefitting from exposure, keep earning an income and keep building your resume? Do you wait for an ideal role, one which will have the other 19,758 black actors killing reading for it? Or do you stand up for principles? 

It’s hardly my place to opine as to what an actor should do. But I think the scenario of this conundrum plays out all day in black Hollywood. I suppose there’s a case for each path. I wonder how many careers shine or dull due to this fork in the road.

Some people say, “So-and-so had to take the part. He’s gotta eat.”  If I hear this one more time I’m gonna scream. 

I doubt this is about eating -- or surviving -- or paying rent. In the end, when the contract is signed, it is about choice. Maybe even about greed. Maybe about hunger… for fame. In today’s popular culture, we see the lengths people will go to merely to achieve fame. Flavor of Love and Jerry Springer come to mind. Let’s call a spade a spade. It is a choice. Granted, the choice may be governed by certain considerations but to simplify the matter into the need to eat is fallacy. 

For a struggling actor the allure of a crappy role is understandable. Let’s face it, if you’re broke actor and someone offers you $10,000 or $20,000 or $40,000 to (i) continue typecasting you, (ii) buy your participation in a role unworthy of your talent, or (3) cast you in a wretched role, you’ll probably do it, most of the time, anyway. This is human nature.

But people can eat and act without accepting degrading roles. It seems that if a person is earning a reasonable salary as an actor, they need not choose degrading or unworthy roles. For example, Halle Berry. Halle Berry is an internationally known movie star and a multimillionaire.  So, for her – and other A-list black actors – (or even b or c list) acceptance of a derogatory role would be reprehensible and inexcusable.

I mean, really, is there ever a starving actor??? This cliché is repeated so much, I think people are starting to believe it. I doubt there are really any starving actors. 

There are struggling actors, though.

There are black actors struggling with choices… and lack of offerings… and racism… and injustice… and unfairness… and issues of consciousness… and what must be fierce competition since there are so many vying for scarce – and so, coveted – roles. Black motion picture actors (particularly, those who really care about creating good works) are faced with a myriad of daunting challenges.

Who’s to blame? Whose responsibility is it to secure good roles for the actor? (Of course, the actor can only “pick” good roles if he or she is offered the role or the opportunity to read for the role in the first place.) The agent? The actor? Whose fault is it when an actor performs in a role that damages his career? I don’t know how it works but ultimately it comes down to the actor’s choice… the person’s choice.

Chiwetel Ejiofor

I didn’t know this English-born, Nigerian actor until I saw Dirty Pretty Things (2002). He turned my head with his credible portrayal of illegal Nigerian immigrant, Okwe, a fugitive doctor in his Native Nigeria. While Okwe is struggling to remain an undetected illegal, he uncovers disturbing, criminal aspects of London’s underworld. I loved Ejiofor in this movie.  He says so much with his expressive eyes. In the role, he was terrified, nervous, angered, surprised, determined, and collected – all with his eyes. His is a performance worth seeing. Guarantee it.   
    
Before Dirty Pretty Things, Chiwetel was cast in Amistad (1997) as James Covey, the interpreter for the seditious slaves of the Amistad. In 2004, he also had a small role as Security guard Frank Willis in She Hate Me. That same year, he played Ellis Moonsong in Melinda and Melinda. Though I didn’t much care for the film, I liked him in the small role. His credits also include an appearance alongside Denzel Washington in the film, Inside Man (2006). In that pic, Ejiofor played Detective Bill Mitchell. Ejiofor also played Luke, in the film Children of Men (2006).
    
He played drag queen Lola in Kinky Boots (2005). He was brilliant in this film. Interestingly, in real life, there is not one ounce of femininity to his aura. It was quite fascinating to see what he turned into when the makeup was applied. He looked like a woman; even without his wig.  He acted like one. I can’t explain it but I didn’t really see him as a man in drag. I saw him as a woman. Of course, in costume he looks like an old tired queen, not a cute one or one who could even remotely pass for a woman. His shoulders are too broad, muscle definition too obvious and he’s just too big to pull it off. Despite this, he still conveyed femininity when he was in drag. 
    
It was not only that he was good in the physical portrayal of Lola, but he was accomplished in all aspects of his performance. He was able to convey elements central to Lola’s inner turmoil and deep-seated emotional pain. In capturing Lola’s essence, Ejiofor was charged with presenting a person who longs for acceptance and love and who cherishes the limelight. He does this so quietly; so skillfully. I loooooooooved him in this role. It’s the subtleties he conveys so well that make Ejiofor’s performance gripping. Funny thing. In Dirty Pretty Things, I couldn’t help but notice his hands. They seemed to have the delicate quality of a woman’s hands.
    
I want to see more of him… because I like watching him. I hope Hollywood recognizes his talent and rewards him with strong leading roles. Ejiofor is a very talented actor; one who I will happily pay to see.

Save a White Woman (The Brave One)

In Terrence Howard’s film, The Brave One (2007), this dude (Terrence Howard as Detective Mercer) takes a bullet in the shoulder and a risk to his career for no apparent reason except to save a white woman and grant her wish to kill a man.
    
Let us examine this piece by piece.
    
Erica Bain (Jodie Foster) wants murderous revenge against the men who beat her boyfriend to death.  Understood. Not nice. But her motivation is understood.
    
Detective Mercer (Terrence Howard) empathizes with her pain and her desire for revenge. He’s human. There is a place for his empathy. Understood.    

He empathizes with her sooooooooooooooo much that he is willing to:
    
jeopardize his career... and risk serious injury – even death
    
… all to please the white woman.
    
I said…
    
JEOPARDIZE HIS CAREER! He would jeopardize his career in order to permit a woman he barely knows, to commit murder? What if, later, she has a change of heart and wants to reveal to authorities what happened? Why would he entrust this virtual stranger with the strings that his career hangs on? For all he’s worked for, we are to believe he would risk it all merely to satisfy her need to murder? He would do this for her? This would make him an idiot, now wouldn’t it?  This would make him stupid, wouldn’t it? This would make him a man whose judgment is questionable. 
    
RISK SERIOUS INJURY; EVEN DEATH!  When he asked her to shoot him to make the crime scene plausible, she was trembling and shaking like a leaf.  Mercer himself acknowledged earlier in the film that she was not a good shooter.  He deduced, early on, when he examined the grocery store crime scene, that she was a poor shooter since even though she was standing only a few feet from the man she killed; it took three shots for her to kill him. Only one bullet struck the man. So he knows she is not a skilled gunslinger, yet he urges her trembling hand to shoot him anyway.
    
This is preposterous.
    
The notion that this black man would desire to serve this white woman in this fashion and honor her wish to commit murder demonstrates what is often shown of black men on the silver screen…
    
Weakness.  And idiocy.

You workin', girl?

Just off the top of your head, can you name ten black actresses, between the ages of 25 and 35, who are working regularly in motion pictures?  Alright.  Alright.  I'll make it easier.  Name five.

Black Actors Who Have Won Oscars

1939 - Hattie McDaniel - Best Supporting Actress -- Gone With The Wind
    
1948 – James Baskett – Honorary Award for his 1946 performance as Uncle Remus in Walt Disney’s Song of the South
    
1963 - Sidney Poitier - Best Actor -- Lilies of The Field
    
1982 - Louis Gossett Jr. - Best Supporting Actor -- An Officer And A Gentleman
    
1989 - Denzel Washington - Best Supporting Actor -- Glory
    
1990 - Whoopi Goldberg - Best Supporting Actress -- Ghost
    
1996 - Cuba Gooding Jr. - Best Supporting Actor -- Jerry Maguire
    
2002 - Denzel Washington - Best Actor -- Training Day
    
2002 - Halle Berry - Best Actress -- Monster's Ball

2002 – Sydney Poitier -- Honorary Oscar for Lifetime Achievement

2004 - Jamie Foxx - Best Actor -- Ray
    
2004 - Morgan Freeman - Best Supporting Actor -- Million Dollar Baby
    
2006 - Forest Whitaker - Best Actor -- The Last King of Scotland
    
2006 - Jennifer Hudson - Best Supporting Actress -- Dreamgirls
    
[UPDATED]

2010 - Mo'Nique - Best Actress -- Precious

Other black artists have repeatedly snagged Academy Awards in categories such as Sound mixing, Original Song, Original Score, Best music, and Best Sound.  Historically, White America has enjoyed watching us sing and dance. Accordingly, we have been rewarded more for our musical giftedness than we have for the more cerebral art of acting.