Tag: Adepero Oduye

Women of Color in Film and TV: ‘Pariah’

Pariah (2011), a film by Dee Rees
Guest post written by Janyce Denise Glasper, originally published at Sugary Gingersnap. Cross posted with permission.

An astounding, vibrant piece of finely weaved storytelling and thoughtfully spoken artistry, this independent film centers on Brooklyn high school teen, Alike (pronounced ah-lik-e) an exceptionally good student and aspiring poet from a hard-working middle-class family. In her underground world, the shy girl hangs out with bold, outspoken, Laura, who has already proudly come out and lives with her sister.

Alike, however, is much too afraid of such honesty and chooses to entrap herself with dual identities- switching from hood gear to chic fashion, she is trying to do right by parents, Arthur and Audrey, but it’s her little sister Sharonda who begins suspecting the truth first.
Filled with hilarity, wit, and compassion, viewers follow Alike’s course of adolescence as she tries unsuccessfully talking to women, tests out her first strap on with Laura’s aide, writes poetry in a colorful composition notebook, and privately shares her talents with the encouraging English teacher.
All the while Audrey is desperate to make Alike appear more feminine and attractive to boys and wishing Alike to stop hanging around Laura, someone she clearly detests. Yet Arthur turns a blind eye, seeming not to give a care about his overbearing wife’s feelings and accepts Alike, “flaws” and all.
Bina (Aasha Davis) and Alike (Oduye) in the stages of love
Fed up with Laura, an interfering Audrey wants Alike to be friends with “normal” girl, Bina. But unbeknownst to Audrey, Bina shows the kind of interest in Alike that would have had her head spinning. A smart, intelligent, and worldly artistic individual, she shares a lot of compelling ideas and music with Alike, striking up a friendship that soon blossoms into a refreshing first love.
Spending time at clubs and critiquing each others writings, things were so blissful.
However, her immediate discarding of their relationship the morning after was quite detrimental and heartbreaking.
Alike breaks down, guttural and hurt by the strange 180, but sadly has no one to tell and transforms that anguish into poetry.
Alike with Audrey (Kim Wayans) during happier times
Once Alike finally confesses to her parents, hell breaks loose tenfold.
In the very turbulent scene, Sharonda pleas with Alike not to get in between the battle of their parents who are loudly arguing about her sexual orientation, but valiant Alike bravely wages on and puts up with an emotionally distressed Audrey who then verbally attacks and violently beats her revulsion into Alike.
After that climatic horror, things change.
Alike and Arthur (Charles Parnell) after that horrible scene
With a condoning mother seeing lesbianism as a treacherous disease deemed unlovable, Arthur is the exact opposite. A man harboring his own secrets, he seemed to have always known that Alike was a unique case. Not due to her escalating intelligence and her disdain for pretty clothing. Their relationship is much closer and because of this, it makes his understanding of Alike’s lifestyle believable.
Sharonda loves her sister no matter what!
In Laura’s own story, she also has a mother disgusted by her choices. Looking disgusted, she makes no move to be affectionate and slams the door in Laura’s face even as Laura expresses joy over passing the GED. This makes her friendship to Alike all the more genuine. Though she is an active flirt and very popular with the ladies, it’s perfectly clear that Laura needs constant companionship and love and once she sees Alike having fun with Bina, her jealousy comes clawing out.
A worthy note of mention, Dee Rees has done an exceptional job of not only showcasing strong female relationships, but also revealing the blunt shift that occurs when weakened and severed, especially the natural bond of a mother and daughter.
The lovely, talented Adepero Oduye
Adepero Oduye’s portrayal is touching, riveting, and beautiful as she plays a character struggling with the great divide, breaks free from timidity, and falls in love. Breathing sophisticated complexion into Alike, Oduye is divine poetry in motion, expelling words articulately and with tenderly, perfected bravado. From the moment she tearfully tells her mother she loves her and that end scene on the bus, Oduye showcases Alike’s proud acceptance into a promising future that only she can control.
Now this is the kind of African American role that the Academy is dead set against honoring. A woman who doesn’t allow herself to repressed by negativity and has the strength to move forward to better opportunities with talent driving her. To the conservative viewer- it’s crucial. Not only is this young African American woman smart and gifted, she happens to be gay.
Definitely robbed of an Oscar nod, here’s hoping that Oduye nabs another pivotal role that garners attention from the snubbing Hollywood elite.
The rest of the cast played their parts commendably, especially the incredible Kim Wayans, a famed comedian utterly unrecognizable in a very dramatic role. The polar opposite of Monique’s character in Precious, Wayans was marvelous as the cruelly ashamed, Bible-clinging mother.
Laura trying to change up Alike’s fashion sense!
In terms of story holes, Pariah does have its little flaws.

Alike delivers two powerful poems like a heavenly prophet. Thirsting for more, especially with Bina making suggestions to open mic nights and poetry clubs, there was an expectancy to seeing Alike come further out of her shell and share her gifts to an audience that actually wants to hear fresh talent onstage.

Alas no such scenes came into play.

What of Laura and Alike’s relationship?

Do they come together as a couple and bond even further?

What secrets was Arthur keeping under tabs?

A scene of him on the phone and then changing into a silk black shirt while chatting to Alike seemed oddly questionable. With them being so close, one imagined that he would voice his affair to Alike.

Now if it were with another man, Audrey would never be the same…
Actress Adepero Oduye, Pariah writer/director Dee Rees, and Actress Kim Wayans
I greatly appreciate the woman’s voice and their courage to tell such a profound story. Hoping that Dee Rees continues on the path of enlightening women and minorities to come forth and share their creative vision, bring their enriching narratives to independent screens and beyond. Let the age old statistics of white men being sole judge and victor be a thing of the past.
It’s been high time for segregation in the film honor system to be buried.
Women have more than breasts to bare, they have vocal hearts and fervent souls to unleash and set free.
Pariah passionately illustrates that though the uncertain future can be filled with failures, heartbreak, and disappointments, there are rewards despite the ugly, gritty turmoil that comes and goes.
That wherein lies life’s bittersweet poetry.

———-
Janyce Denise Glasper is a writer/artist running two silly blogs of creative adventures called Sugarygingersnap and AfroVeganChick. She enjoys good female-centric film, cute rubber duckies, chocolate covered everything (except bugs!), Days of Our Lives, and slaying nightly demons Buffy style in Dayton, Ohio.

LGBTQI Week: "I’m Not Running, I’m Choosing": ‘Pariah’ and Gender Performance

Warning: spoilers ahead!!
“Who do you become if you can’t be yourself?” Pariah, my absolute favorite film of 2011, tackles that question. 
Written and directed by Dee Rees and produced by Nekisa Cooper, the powerful Pariah tells the story of Alike (Adepero Oduye in an astounding performance), a 17-year-old black lesbian in Brooklyn. Studious, artistic and sensitive, Alike is a writer who knows who she is but hides her sexuality from her family. We so rarely see positive portrayals of black women and queer women on-screen. Here, we have the privilege to see both. With subtlety and grace, it’s an exquisite and achingly beautiful female-centric coming-of-age film about a young woman discovering her sexuality and asserting her identity. 
Carrie Nelson already wrote an articulate and intelligent review of the award-winning film. You should seriously go read it! But I want to touch on a few points that particularly struck me while watching, particularly about gender performance and identity. 
Most films don’t address teenage sexuality. Sure they may objectify women or poke fun at raging hormones. But they don’t often explore how teens’ discover their sexuality, especially women’s sexuality, people of color’s sexuality, or queer sexuality.
Throughout the film, we receive visual cues to Alike’s gender performance. When we first see Alike in a club, she’s wearing a loose men’s jersey, baggy jeans and a baseball cap. She’s emulating her butch best friend Laura (Pernell Walker). On the bus home, Alike removes her hat and shirt, revealing a form-fitting top. She puts on earrings. All for her overprotective, lonely and overbearing mother Audrey (Kim Wayans). When she’s around her mom, Alike wears stereotypically feminine clothing. Flouncy skirts, dresses, snug blouses – all clothing that “shows off her figure” like her mother wants. Her mother buys her these clothes, knowing full well that Alike abhors wearing them. Yet refusing to accept her daughter, she tries to orchestrate her daughter’s identity.
Alike’s mother can’t handle the fact that her daughter is a lesbian. Audrey shows a colleague at lunch a fuchsia sweater she bought for Alike. She tells Arthur (Charles Parnell), Alike’s father, that she’s “tired of this tomboy thing she’s doing.” Yet Alike tries to express herself, telling her parents that the sweater “isn’t me.” Alike’s identity contradicts her vision of her daughter that she imposed on Alike. Alike’s father is more protective of her as she’s a “daddy’s girl.” Yet he refuses to admit or see the signs that Alike might be a lesbian. Between the two is Alike’s sister Sharonda (Sahra Mellesse) who knows about her sexuality and loves her regardless. 
Whenever Alike leaves home, she transforms herself into the identity she chooses. At school, we see her rush to the girls’ bathroom to change. She adopts a more masculine appearance to coincide with her gender non-conformity. Laura buys Alike a strap-on to have sex with a woman. But Alike’s uncomfortable wearing it (it’s white, it pinches her) and ends up throwing it away. 
For Alike, both sets of clothing – the hyper-masculine and hyper-feminine – are a costume. She rebels from the princess wardrobe her mother wants for her by going to the other extreme, exploring if it’s who she is. But neither appearance encapsulates Alike. Both the butch and the femme identities are disconnected from her personality. 
“Alike’s a woman who knows she loves women, and is sure in that, but her struggle is how to be. Her struggle is a more nuanced struggle of gender identity within the queer community. She’s not the same person that (her friend) Laura is, neither is she this pink princess that her mother wants her to be. She falls somewhere in between. Finding the courage to carve out that space is her journey.” 
Audrey suspects her daughter is a lesbian or at the very least is attracted to women. But she tries to derail Alike’s sexuality. Audrey forces Alike and the charismatic Bina (Aasha Davis), the daughter of a work colleague and one of Alike’s classmates, to spend time together in a vain attempt to separate Alike from hanging out with Laura, who’s own mother has disowned her for being a lesbian. Alike tells her mother that nothing is going to change, Audrey replies, “God doesn’t make mistakes,” as if homosexuality is a mistake. But Audrey’s plan backfires as Alike and Bina bond over music and share a growing attraction to one another. 
Drawn to one another, Alike and Bina have sex. Despite their shared intimacy, Bina rejects Alike. Breaking Alike’s heart and devastating her, Bina tells her she’s not “gay-gay” and asks her to keep their encounter secret. We see that Bina possesses sexual fluidity yet is afraid to commit to a woman, perhaps due to society’s heteronormative standards. Or maybe she doesn’t want to commit to anyone, male or female. Or maybe she’s an insensitive asshole. 
Whatever Bina’s motivations, Alike’s heartbreak ushers in her refusal to bury her identity any longer. Amidst a huge fight between her parents, Audrey angrily tells Arthur, “Your daughter is turning into a damn man right before your eyes.” Alike tells her parents she’s a lesbian, which enrages her mother. Audrey hits her repeatedly, her father trying to restrain her, after Alike finally confirms what her mother already knew. 
Alike turns to Laura (who tries again to reach out to her mother after she earns her GED) for solace and support. Both women are able to commiserate as friends and as lesbians rejected by their mothers’ gendered expectations. 
By the end of the film, we see Alike’s clothing change again. Adopting some of Bina’s style fused with her own – perhaps to convey that she’s learned from her heartache or it may be her acknowledgement of her sexual transformation – she wears scarves and earrings with jeans. No longer shadowing Laura and no longer conforming to her mother’s gendered expectations, Alike rejects the gender binary of butch and femme, a symbolic balance of her identity, a unison of femininity and masculinity. 
Alike divulges her feelings through spoken word. Her poem at the end of Pariah is hauntingly stunning (making me weep uncontrollably), echoing her painful yet ultimately freeing journey towards self-acceptance: 
“Heartbreak opens onto the sunrise for even breaking is opening and I am broken, I am open. Broken into the new life without pushing in, open to the possibilities within, pushing out. See the love shine in through my cracks? See the light shine out through me? I am broken, I am open, I am broken open. See the love light shining through me, shining through my cracks, through the gaps. My spirit takes journey, my spirit takes flight, could not have risen otherwise and I am not running, I am choosing. Running is not a choice from the breaking. Breaking is freeing, broken is freedom. I am not broken, I am free.” 
Pariah shattered my heart with its aching beauty, uplifting my soul. We are allowed a window to witness her journey and self-discovery. Through her wardrobe and poetry, Alike eventually expresses herself as a lesbian in the way that she wishes. Alike insists she’s not running, she’s choosing. While she means this literally, there’s  meaning beneath the surface. No longer running from who she is, Alike chooses to embrace her identity. Watching Alike discover and assert herself is beauty, poetry in motion.

LGBTQI Week: Pariah

Pariah (2011)

This review by Monthly Guest Contributor Carrie Nelson previously appeared at Bitch Flicks on January 25, 2012. 
I enjoyed many films in 2011. All of my favorite films of the year, however, were the ones that unnerved me with their honesty, sticking in my thoughts long after the end credits rolled. One of those films was Martha Marcy May Marlene, which I’ve already written about, and another was Pariah.

Pariah, in its simplest terms, is a lesbian coming-of-age story. Yet it is unlike any other lesbian coming-of-age story I have ever seen, largely because the film is not about a young woman’s initial discovery or self-acceptance of sexual identity. When we meet Alike (played masterfully by Adepero Oduye), she already is well aware of and comfortable with her sexual orientation. The film does not start from a place of Gay 101; there are no scenes where Alike expresses sexual confusion or the desire to be straight. It operates under the assumption that our heroine is out (at least to her friends and high school English teacher) and proud. 

Alike and Laura
Instead of a traditional coming out story, Alike’s journey is about finding her place within her community. At home, her mother (Kim Wayans) encourages her to dress femininely and act ladylike. (One of the most heartbreaking scenes in the film involves Alike’s discomfort wearing a pink blouse that her mother was so excited for her to try on.) Outside of home, her friend Laura (Pernell Walker) teaches her how to convincingly present as butch and suavely seduce femmes. Alike is able to navigate both worlds, but she does not feel fully comfortable in either of them. The film follows her as she shatters the assumptions others make about her and determines what she needs to do to be truly happy.

What impressed me the most about Pariah was its ability to depict the uncomfortable awkwardness of being a teenager. Though the film is very specific in its geographic and cultural location, Alike’s need to find her place in her social circle is universal. When she accompanies Laura to clubs, she is unable to comfortably flirt with other women. She tries hard to adopt a butch identity, but it never feels right. Early on in the film, Alike experiments with packing, but she quickly determines that a phallus is not what she needs. It is not until she meets Bina (Aasha Davis, who I’ve loved since she played Waverly on Friday Night Lights), the daughter of her mother’s friend, that Alike finds herself in a situation where she can present her sexuality and gender identity in the most authentic way, without pretense or expectation. And although Alike’s relationship with Bina turns in a surprising direction, the experience is necessary for her to begin to see the variety of ways in which she can be a queer woman.

I appreciated the diversity of queer women depicted in Pariah. From women who self-identify as lesbians to women who simply enjoy being intimate with other women, from women who have masculine or feminine gender presentations to women who cannot be so easily labeled, Pariah shows that there is no single way to be queer. Mainstream depictions of gay identity tend to reinforce stereotypes, but while Pariah does feature women in traditional butch-femme pairings, such relationships are not the only ones presented, nor are they shown to be the “right” way to be gay. All of the characters and relationships in Pariah have flaws, but all are also beautiful in their own ways. I was continually struck by the film’s honesty as I watched it, and the diversity of women and relationships presented is an excellent example of that honesty.

Audrey and Alike
Audrey, Alike’s mother, is one of the most fascinating characters in the film. Rather than a one-note antagonist, as parents of gay teens are often depicted on-screen, Audrey struck me as a woman who truly wants to connect with her daughter but does not understand how. She seems to know all along that Alike is gay, but she believes that if she buys her enough feminine clothing, dictates her friendships and talks to her about boys, Alike will be straight. This behavior only distances Alike from her mother, and understandably so – it is not the behavior of a tolerant or accepting parent. But there is never a doubt that Audrey truly loves her daughter and wants what is best for her, a fact that makes the climax of the film so difficult to watch. I only wish the film had been able to flesh Audrey out more and spend more time with her character. One of my favorite scenes is one of Audrey sitting in the break room at her office, mutually ignoring the rest of her colleagues who are eating together and chatting. Audrey only breaks out of her shell when a friend approaches her and asks her about the new clothing she bought for her daughters. The implication seems to be that Audrey is materialistic and a bit of a snob, but we do not find out more about that. I wish we had – it might have provided more insight into why she adopts such a conventional view of female gender identity and sexuality.

One cannot discuss Pariah without acknowledging the fact that it is a film about queer women of color made by a queer woman of color. It’s rare that women of color are given the opportunity to tell their own stories, and in a year during which The Help is receiving enormous critical praise and attention, it is disheartening that a film like Pariah is receiving so much less notice. Pariah is a vitally important film, and its story and performances are as strong as you will find in any other film from 2011. At the time of writing this review, Academy Award nominations have yet to be announced, and I am hoping that, when they are, Pariah and its creator, Dee Rees, will receive their well-deserved recognition. Whether or not they do, I encourage you to seek the film out in theatres. It may not be the flashiest or most technically elaborate film of the past year, but it is without question one of the most honest. 
———-
Carrie Nelson is a Bitch Flicks monthly contributor. She was a Staff Writer for Gender Across Borders, an international feminist community and blog that she co-founded in 2009. She works as a grant writer for an LGBT nonprofit, and she is currently pursuing an MA in Media Studies at The New School.

Indie Spirit Best Female Lead Nominee: Adepero Oduye in ‘Pariah’

In addition to Oduye’s Best Female Lead nomination, Pariah is also nominated for the Independent Spirit John Cassavetes Award. The film has received numerous other nominations and awards. 
This piece, by Carrie Nelson, first appeared at Bitch Flicks on January 25, 2012.

Alike (Adepero Oduye) in Pariah
I enjoyed many films in 2011. All of my favorite films of the year, however, were the ones that unnerved me with their honesty, sticking in my thoughts long after the end credits rolled. One of those films was Martha Marcy May Marlene, which I’ve already written about, and another was Pariah.
Pariah, in its simplest terms, is a lesbian coming-of-age story. Yet it is unlike any other lesbian coming-of-age story I have ever seen, largely because the film is not about a young woman’s initial discovery or self-acceptance of sexual identity. When we meet Alike (played masterfully by Adepero Oduye), she already is well aware of and comfortable with her sexual orientation. The film does not start from a place of Gay 101; there are no scenes where Alike expresses sexual confusion or the desire to be straight. It operates under the assumption that our heroine is out (at least to her friends and high school English teacher) and proud. 
Instead of a traditional coming out story, Alike’s journey is about finding her place within her community. At home, her mother (Kim Wayans) encourages her to dress femininely and act ladylike. (One of the most heartbreaking scenes in the film involves Alike’s discomfort wearing a pink blouse that her mother was so excited for her to try on.) Outside of home, her friend Laura (Pernell Walker) teaches her how to convincingly present as butch and suavely seduce femmes. Alike is able to navigate both worlds, but she does not feel fully comfortable in either of them. The film follows her as she shatters the assumptions others make about her and determines what she needs to do to be truly happy.

2012 NAACP Image Awards Nominations

The 43rd NAACP Image Awards air Friday, February 17th

In the midst of awards season, it’s easy to become overwhelmed with which awards are happening and when, and it’s easy to start thinking that the same movies/shows/actors/directors are being nominated for all the awards (for example, there are striking similarities between this year’s Academy and Independent Spirit Award major category nominees). 

However, the Image Awards offer a break from the monotony of many other mainstream awards shows–and, more importantly, they highlight the cultural contributions of people of color, who are so often pushed aside, ignored, or rendered practically invisible by Hollywood and mainstream entertainment complexes. The Image Awards celebrate: 

the outstanding achievements and performances of people of color in the arts (television, recording, literature, motion picture and writing & directing), as well as those individuals or groups who promote social justice through their creative endeavors.

One could look at this year’s list of Academy Awards nominees and think that there are very few people of color acting in films, and even fewer writing or directing–and when you specify women of color, the list gets even shorter (the women of The Help are this year’s exception that proves the rule). While there is truth in that statement, the Image Awards show us people who are making movies (and making television, and writing books), and they also show us how these contributions still aren’t as culturally valued. 
Here are some nominations from a few of the film categories (find a complete list on their website, including awards for Television, Recording, Literature, Motion Picture, and Writing & Directing).
Outstanding Motion Picture
Jumping the Broom
The First Grader
Tower Heist
Outstanding Actress in a Motion Picture
Adepero Oduye for Pariah
Emma Stone for The Help
Paula Patton for Jumping the Broom
Viola Davis for The Help
Zoë Saldana for Columbiana

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Motion Picture
Bryce Dallas Howard for The Help
Cicely Tyson for The Help
Kim Wayans for Pariah
Maya Rudolph for Bridesmaids
Octavia Spencer for The Help
Outstanding Independent Motion Picture
I Will Follow
MOOZ-lum
Kinyarwanda
The First Grader
Outstanding Directing in a Motion Picture
Alrick Brown for Kinyarwanda
Angelina Jolie for In the Land of Blood and Honey
Dee Rees for Pariah
Salim Akil for Jumping the Broom
Tate Taylor for The Help

The 43rd NAACP Image Awards air live on NBC this Friday, February 17th, at 8 PM EST. Will you watch?

Guest Writer Wednesday: Review – Pariah

Pariah (2011)

This is a guest post from Carrie Nelson.
I enjoyed many films in 2011. All of my favorite films of the year, however, were the ones that unnerved me with their honesty, sticking in my thoughts long after the end credits rolled. One of those films was Martha Marcy May Marlene, which I’ve already written about, and another was Pariah.
Pariah, in its simplest terms, is a lesbian coming-of-age story. Yet it is unlike any other lesbian coming-of-age story I have ever seen, largely because the film is not about a young woman’s initial discovery or self-acceptance of sexual identity. When we meet Alike (played masterfully by Adepero Oduye), she already is well aware of and comfortable with her sexual orientation. The film does not start from a place of Gay 101; there are no scenes where Alike expresses sexual confusion or the desire to be straight. It operates under the assumption that our heroine is out (at least to her friends and high school English teacher) and proud. 
Alike and Laura
Instead of a traditional coming out story, Alike’s journey is about finding her place within her community. At home, her mother (Kim Wayans) encourages her to dress femininely and act ladylike. (One of the most heartbreaking scenes in the film involves Alike’s discomfort wearing a pink blouse that her mother was so excited for her to try on.) Outside of home, her friend Laura (Pernell Walker) teaches her how to convincingly present as butch and suavely seduce femmes. Alike is able to navigate both worlds, but she does not feel fully comfortable in either of them. The film follows her as she shatters the assumptions others make about her and determines what she needs to do to be truly happy.
What impressed me the most about Pariah was its ability to depict the uncomfortable awkwardness of being a teenager. Though the film is very specific in its geographic and cultural location, Alike’s need to find her place in her social circle is universal. When she accompanies Laura to clubs, she is unable to comfortably flirt with other women. She tries hard to adopt a butch identity, but it never feels right. Early on in the film, Alike experiments with packing, but she quickly determines that a phallus is not what she needs. It is not until she meets Bina (Aasha Davis, who I’ve loved since she played Waverly on Friday Night Lights), the daughter of her mother’s friend, that Alike finds herself in a situation where she can present her sexuality and gender identity in the most authentic way, without pretense or expectation. And although Alike’s relationship with Bina turns in a surprising direction, the experience is necessary for her to begin to see the variety of ways in which she can be a queer woman.
I appreciated the diversity of queer women depicted in Pariah. From women who self-identify as lesbians to women who simply enjoy being intimate with other women, from women who have masculine or feminine gender presentations to women who cannot be so easily labeled, Pariah shows that there is no single way to be queer. Mainstream depictions of gay identity tend to reinforce stereotypes, but while Pariah does feature women in traditional butch-femme pairings, such relationships are not the only ones presented, nor are they shown to be the “right” way to be gay. All of the characters and relationships in Pariah have flaws, but all are also beautiful in their own ways. I was continually struck by the film’s honesty as I watched it, and the diversity of women and relationships presented is an excellent example of that honesty.
Audrey and Alike
Audrey, Alike’s mother, is one of the most fascinating characters in the film. Rather than a one-note antagonist, as parents of gay teens are often depicted on-screen, Audrey struck me as a woman who truly wants to connect with her daughter but does not understand how. She seems to know all along that Alike is gay, but she believes that if she buys her enough feminine clothing, dictates her friendships and talks to her about boys, Alike will be straight. This behavior only distances Alike from her mother, and understandably so – it is not the behavior of a tolerant or accepting parent. But there is never a doubt that Audrey truly loves her daughter and wants what is best for her, a fact that makes the climax of the film so difficult to watch. I only wish the film had been able to flesh Audrey out more and spend more time with her character. One of my favorite scenes is one of Audrey sitting in the break room at her office, mutually ignoring the rest of her colleagues who are eating together and chatting. Audrey only breaks out of her shell when a friend approaches her and asks her about the new clothing she bought for her daughters. The implication seems to be that Audrey is materialistic and a bit of a snob, but we do not find out more about that. I wish we had – it might have provided more insight into why she adopts such a conventional view of female gender identity and sexuality.
One cannot discuss Pariah without acknowledging the fact that it is a film about queer women of color made by a queer woman of color. It’s rare that women of color are given the opportunity to tell their own stories, and in a year during which The Help is receiving enormous critical praise and attention, it is disheartening that a film like Pariah is receiving so much less notice. Pariah is a vitally important film, and its story and performances are as strong as you will find in any other film from 2011. At the time of writing this review, Academy Award nominations have yet to be announced, and I am hoping that, when they are, Pariah and its creator, Dee Rees, will receive their well-deserved recognition. Whether or not they do, I encourage you to seek the film out in theatres. It may not be the flashiest or most technically elaborate film of the past year, but it is without question one of the most honest. 
Carrie Nelson has previously written about Martha Marcy May Marlene, Precious, Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire, The Social Network, Sleepaway Camp, and Mad Men for Bitch Flicks. She is a Founder and Editor of Gender Across Borders and works as a grant writer for an LGBT nonprofit organization in NYC.