Atima Omara-Alwala – Bitch Flicks

Normalizing the Black Family

When Solomon, Eliza, and her two children are both sold, she is sold away from her children. Their new slave owner, William Ford, (Benedict Cumberbatch), feeling guilty when he hears Eliza’s sobs of protests, tries to buy the children, but the auctioneer refuses to sell the them. William Ford takes Solomon and a devastated Eliza to his plantation, where she continues to cry on the journey to the plantation. When Ford’s wife, Mistress Ford, hears of new slave Eliza’s plight she callously responds, “Oh poor thing, well she’ll get over it in a day or two.”

This guest post by Atima Omara appears as part of our theme week on Black Families.

In 12 Years of Slave, the theme of family is a tie that binds throughout the story. While the film depicts the life of Solomon Northrup, a freeman captured and sold into slavery, and his struggle to get back to his life and his family. 12 Years also reflects the lives of other slaves he meets who too are separated from their families. 12 Years is very tightly focused on the systematic dehumanization of Black people in the American South during slavery. This film defines the subhuman view of the Black family in the antebellum South that remained pervasive post the Civil War and into the 20^th Century where its effects have filtered into many films and TV shows.

12 Years A Slave is an autobiographical account told from the perspective of Solomon Northrup, after his capture into slavery. While sitting in his first prison, awaiting to be moved into the South, Solomon meets another slave, Eliza, who was essentially treated as a wife by her previous slave owner with whom she also has two children. After his death, Eliza and her two children are sold away and it is there, awaiting the auction block, she meets Solomon. When Solomon, Eliza, and her two children are both sold, she is sold away from her children. Their new slave owner, William Ford, (Benedict Cumberbatch), feeling guilty when he hears Eliza’s sobs of protests, tries to buy the children, but the auctioneer refuses to sell the them. William Ford takes Solomon and a devastated Eliza to his plantation, where she continues to cry on the journey to the plantation. When Ford’s wife, Mistress Ford, hears of new slave Eliza’s plight she callously responds, “Oh poor thing, well she’ll get over it in a day or two.”

Director Steve McQueen beautifully wove in the humanity of Northrup and the other slaves, which made their enslavement that much more heart-wrenching. When Eliza still sobs days later on the Ford plantation because she misses her children, Solomon tries to silence her. She chides him, “Have you stopped crying for YOUR children?!” He retorts, “They are as my flesh…..I survive…I will keep myself hardy until freedom is opportune.” And Solomon does, ingratiating himself to his Master, William Ford, for his work, he receives a violin in which he engraves the name of his wife and children. They are never far from his mind as he tries to desperately find ways to become a freeman again.

Eventually, because Eliza’s crying becomes to annoying to Mistress Ford, she is removed from the plantation. Mistress Ford’s dismissive comments and subsequent removal of Eliza from the plantation is reflective of the antebellum’s American South’s view of the Black person and the view of their family. There was the economic and biblical justifications for slavery, but eventually enslaving other human beings birthed an American ideology of race inferiority. Nineteenth century US Senator John C. Calhoun famously said, “Never before has the Black race of Central Africa, from the dawn of history to the present day, attained a condition so civilized and so improved, not only physically, but morally and intellectually.”

In the minds of white slave owners and their supporters, slavery was a favor to Black people, who could not have lives of their own or feel loss or pain. This ideology is understandable when you consider the horror of what they were justifying. To acknowledge the humanity of Black people would have forced one to acknowledge that slavery was wrong.

Through the evolution of American film and later television, we see the variations of this view that the white slavers have of their Black slaves filter into the lens of white directors, producers, and writers of films and TV shows featuring Black people and their families.

The film that has the distinction of being the first 12-reel full motion picture film in America is D. W. Griffith’s Birth of a Nation in 1915. Commercially successful, the film was controversial due to its portrayal of Black men as unintelligent, barely human and sexually aggressive. The first talking motion picture in 1929 was Al Jolson’s The Jazz Singer, where Jolson performed as a white actor in Black face, recalling the minstrelsy

With those promising precursors films, films in the 1930s hardly shifted. With Gone with the Wind or The Littlest Rebel, audiences never knew the stories of the Black slaves who were supporting characters to Vivien Leigh’s Scarlett O’Hara or Shirley Temple’s little Virginia Carey. Scarlett’s Mammy (played by Hattie McDaniel) we know nothing about, whether she had husband, children, or siblings. Nor do we know much of Virgie’s Uncle Bill (Bill Robinson). Because Mammy and Uncle Billy do not need a family, because their duty is to serve their white families.

From the 1930s to the 1950s, Hollywood’s “Golden Age,” these images of Black people and their families improve barely, especially when theaters refuse to show films with prominent Black leads. Look at the 1950s interpretation of Imitation of Life with actresses Lana Turner and Juanita Moore. At first glance, it is a story of two single women raising their daughters together. Lana Turner’s Lora is a struggling young actress with a daughter who befriends Sarah, the daughter of Juanita Moore’s Annie, who is a homeless Black widow. Because of the girls’ friendship, the women move in together. While you do see the humanity of Annie and the love she has for her daughter Sarah, you realize you don’t see much of Annie’s life outside of that. Annie becomes a maid to Lora and her daughter and is a momma to Sarah. Like Mammy or Uncle Bill, we know little of Annie’s friends, if she ever finds love again, in comparison we do see the love life of Lora’s, her friends, and her career become successful.

The height of the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s and the conscience shift of the country raised awareness as to the plight and actual humanity of the Black American. With that it brought in some changes and new opportunities for Black characters in film. Actors like Sidney Poitier, Ruby Dee, Ossie Davis, Harry Belafonte, and others challenged the perception of the Black experience in film. In 1961, Black playwright Lorrain Hansberry’s play, A Raisin in the Sun, about a young Black man (Sidney Poitier) trying to find a better life for his family became a film. Behind the scenes it was a play that almost never happened, because it was a predominantly African American cast it took a long time to secure funding for its debut. And even with its final success on Broadway there was much argument between critics who were primarily white as to whether the experience was “universal” or particular to African Americans.

While the movie industry addressed race glacially, television as a newer medium moved at a faster pace in providing more opportunities for Black family portrayal. In 1968, CBS debuted Julia, with Black actress Diahann Carroll as its lead. It was the first show to depict a Black woman in the lead of a show that was a non-stereotypical role. Julia was a single mother and nurse whose husband had been killed in Vietnam. Today, it’s considered “groundbreaking.” Then, critics (again mostly white) derided it for not being “realistic.” Used to seeing nothing but Black poverty on the news, critics held Julia up to that as the standard for Black American life. The Saturday Review’s Robert Lewis Shayon wrote that Julia’s “plush, suburban setting” was “a far, far cry from the bitter realities of Negro life in the urban ghetto, the pit of America’s explosion potential.” Other critics implied the show was a “cartoon.” Unsurprisingly, Ebony Magazine, whose magazine’s readership and staff are Black Americans, appreciated its significance in showing a “slice of Black America.”

The 1970s brought more Black family focused television; of significance was Good Times and The Jeffersons, both where productions from white liberal showrunner Norman Lear. The portrayals of the Black family vastly improved, if by virtue of the fact that they were getting time on major network television, some shows still would never entirely escape the stereotypical trope in the 1970s.

Good Times featured actors Esther Rolle and John Amos in the lead roles. They played Florida and James Evans, heads of a working class Black family who live in housing project in Chicago. Notably, African American writers conceived the idea and the initial script of the show Norman Lear picked up. Actors Rolle and Amos signed up for the project, interested in a regular series with a Black working class family at the center. Not too long into the show, one of the children of the Evans family, JJ Evans, became a popular character for his phrase “Dy-NO-mite” and his funny antics. As the show progressed, it increasingly focused on him and crazy antics, which recalled the days of Black minstrelsy shows in the early 20^th century, where usually white actors in blackface exaggerated real-life Black circumstances in a cartoonish way and reinforced stereotypes of Black people. The Evans family, particularly JJ, became subject to the long line of stereotypical portrayal of African American family life much to the chagrin of actors Esther Rolle and John Amos. Behind the scenes Esther Rolle left the series in frustration and John Amos was fired.

Lear’s The Jeffersons in comparison was an improvement upon Good Times, in that it showed a working class Black family, who made good and moved to the wealthy neighborhoods of New York. Even though the show took on political topics, it is notable for featuring more of the everyday life of this Black family with its colorful patriarch George Jefferson, played by Sherman Helmsley. The show enjoyed a successful 10-year run. In some ways, The Jeffersons was the grandfather of later Black family-centered shows like The Cosby Show and The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, with Sherman Helmsley reprising his role as George Jefferson to appear on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

As the 1980s dawned there were more Black family-centered shows like 227 and Amen, but one would be remiss in not mentioning the The Cosby Show in the 1980s, which came out of already established comedian Bill Cosby’s stand up act about his family. The Huxtables were an upper-middle class Black family who lived in Brooklyn. Cliff Huxtable (Bill Cosby) and Claire Huxtable (Phylicia Rashad) were the parents to their five children. The show was revolutionary for the Black family because it was distinct in featuring the everyday occurrences, drama, and humor of family life. The Cosby Show occasionally dealt with serious issues like dyslexia or teen pregnancy, but it was not a show that focused on racial politics; indeed, that may have been the point. Some criticized the lack of discussion around race or racial politics in the series, fearing that white audiences who embraced the show would consider “racism” a thing of the past. What is certain is that The Cosby Show was viewed as seminal in Black family portrayal on television. When it ended in the early 1990s, there was an influx of Black family-centered comedies that were greenlighted for major network television like In Living Color, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, Family Matters, Roc, Hanging with Mr. Cooper, Sister, Sister, and the list goes on. Notably many of these shows had African American creators or writers, which allowed for more Black family storytelling.

We have come a long way in the normalizing of the Black American family, but given the diversity of the Black American family experience, it is clear we still have a long way to go in Black family storytelling.

Atima Omara is a political strategist of 10 years who has served as staff on eight federal and local political campaigns and other progressive causes. Her writings focus on gender, race, and politics but also how gender and race are reflected in film and popular culture. In her sparetime, she reads, watches movies and documentaries, and attends film festivals when she can. You can find more of her writing at www.atima-omara.com. She tweets at @atima_omara.

Notes from the Telluride Film Festival: Reviews of ‘The Invisible Woman’ and ‘Gravity’

Usually movies with such mainstream blockbuster potential are not portrayed at Telluride Film Festival. Telluride opts for more artistic limited release movies. But I suspect Cuaron’s credibility, including casting a woman in the lead over Clooney, made it a Telluride film.

Still from The Invisible Woman — Still from *The Invisible Woman*

This is a guest post by Atima Omara-Alwala.

The Woman Behind Charles Dickens: A Review of the Film The Invisible Woman

“You men live your lives, while we are left behind. I see no freedom where I stand!” yells protagonist Ellen Ternan at a Dickens’ colleague.

Ternan is the mistress of renowned English novelist Charles Dickens. And that sums up the movie The Invisible Woman. Ternan became the 18-year-old mistress to then 45-year-old Charles Dickens, who was at the height of his fame. Based on the novel of the same name, it accounts their life together, the scandal it caused, as Dickens was still married to his wife. While the film is meant to be focused on this torrid affair between Dickens and Ternan it, by extension, is a telling of the unfortunate status of women in the Victorian era.

English actor Ralph Fiennes, a celebrated actor of his generation (Schindler’s List, Quiz Show, The English Patient, The End of the Affair, to name a few) plays the larger than life Charles Dickens and Felicity Jones plays Ellen Ternan. Invisible Woman is the second film Fiennes directed after Coriolanus.

The Invisible Woman is sumptuous in its costumes and details of the Victorian era, but occasionally lacks in the chain that builds up to the affair. Ternan, whose family of moderately successful actors are good friends of Dickens, finds herself in his company due to a play he is building. You instantly see why Dickens falls for Ternan–she is young, spirited, and passionate about his novels and short stories. Jones’ Ternan does a good job in not overdoing the “fan girl” role, as that can cross over to creepy rather quickly. Her love and understanding of his books touches Fiennes’ Dickens perhaps because his wife doesn’t seem that invested in his work and Ellen is rather young and pretty. One also suspects her adoration soothes his ego. Chats of his works turn to meaningful conversations of life ,which pale in comparison to the awkward stilted and physically passionless relationship that exists between Dickens and his wife, Catherine.

Felicity Jones in The Invisible Woman — Felicity Jones in *The Invisible Woman*

Ternan finds herself at a crossroads in her relationship with Dickens, as her family realizes his adoration of her and her growing affection for him. While she hopes to become an actress, it is made clear to her by the women in her family that she is not good enough to survive in the profession. Since she has not too much formal educational training, any money to inherit, or other marital prospects, the best she can hope for is a relationship with Dickens, who cannot divorce his wife in Victoria era England. But can provide for Ternan. It is not a “choice” that thrills her, especially as she views Dickens’ callousness toward his wife–which includes but is NOT limited to a public letter in the London Times announcing he and his wife (unbeknownst to his wife) have agreed to separate (worse than texting your ex you’re through with them) and forcing his wife to deliver a gift meant for Ternan but accidentally delivered to her so (in Dickens’ mind) the wife can see for herself nothing exists between them.

I personally love Charles Dickens’ writings and thought he was quite the advocate for justice for the poor, but I was stunned at the sheer humiliation he put his wife through. You can imagine Ternan’s thoughts: if he’s that callous to the women who bore TEN of his children, how the hell is he going to treat me?

My biggest complaint was, while I saw a chemistry between Fiennes and Jones, the buildup was not always potent enough for me to think this was supposed to be the renowned passionate affair it apparently was. The timeline was fuzzy at times. Fiennes is outstanding per usual as the larger than life author, and Jones is an ingénue with promise who perhaps reached her limits in playing an older and wiser Ternan after Dickens’ passing, trapped in reflection and struggling to free herself from his ghost. Either way, go see it, if for nothing else to no more about this author and see another outstanding Ralph Fiennes performance.

Movie poster for Gravity — Movie poster for *Gravity*

A Brilliant Woman Hero: A Review of the Film Gravity

If you ever doubted a woman could literally reach for the stars, Sandra Bullock changes your mind in her performance as Dr. Ryan Stone, a brilliant astronaut who becomes a hero in Gravity. The film is directed by Alfonso Cuaron, who also directed A Little Princess (1995), Y Tu Mamá También (2001), and Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004). Gravity is a 3D movie with George Clooney as Bullock’s co star. Clooney plays fellow astronaut, Matt Kowalsky.

Dr. Stone and Kowalsky, along with others, are in space on a mission when debris from a satellite crashes into their space shuttle Explorer, killing most of their crew. Dr. Stone and Kowalsky (on limited oxygen) must find a way to survive.

Sandra Bullock in Gravity — Sandra Bullock in *Gravity*

Bullock is wonderfully nuanced in her role as Dr. Ryan Stone and I can see why reviews coming back from Venice International Film Festival have her touted for another Oscar nomination. Cuaron portrays a complex, brilliant astronaut with a sad past who is driven by her work. With her male colleagues (particularly Clooney’s Kowalsky, whom she interacts the most with), she confidently holds her own in what she does. When the space shuttle is hit, and Dr. Stone–a less experienced astronaut–is sent flying into space in a breathtaking 3D moment, she is rightfully panicked. I worried she might become the damsel in distress that Kowalsky rescues, but Bullock does not take you into unnecessary hysterics. If anything, the 3D movie makes the audience more empathetic to how scary the reality of flying untethered into space is. The rest of the movie is an exercise in her using her mental and physical reserves to brainstorm her way out of hairy situations, while the debris still in orbit rotates back around every so often to threaten her survival. I found myself mentally cheering her on as I think all viewers–especially women–will to the end.

Atima Omara-Alwala is a political strategist and activist of 10 years who has served as staff on eight federal and local political campaigns and other progressive causes. Atima’s work has had a particular focus on women’s political empowerment and leadership, reproductive justice, health care, communities of color and how gender and race is reflected in pop culture. Her writings on the topics have also been featured at Ms. Magazine, Women’s Enews, and RH Reality Check.

Notes from the Telluride Film Festival: A New Look at American Slavery in ’12 Years a Slave’

Patsey can be the only the source of her violent hatred; and while Mistress Epps turns her spite on her husband occasionally, she is quickly reminded by her husband of her place in a patriarchal American Southern society–if he tires of her, she is gone. McQueen handles these situations with a frankness and humanity that is not overdone and he brings the best perfomances out of all his actors. The film got a standing ovation at Telluride, several times over, which is rare to happen at the festival.

This is a guest post by Atima Omara-Alwala.

From Red Tails to Lee Daniels’ The Butler and Django Unchained, there have been a lot of “Black Exodus” movies lately, and by Black Exodus, I mean every time there is major motion picture with a mostly African American cast (and usually a historical plot), every black person I know (including myself) goes to see the movie on opening weekend. Usually because there are so few movies, especially great films, that are made with African Americans as a major focus it’s an event to go see such a movie and we want to make sure Hollywood knows it has support.Well if there is any movie worth going to see whether you are black, white, woman or man, I urge you to go see 12 Years a Slave.

12 Years a Slave is based on the autobiographical account of Solomon Northrup, a successful, middle class African American attorney born free who lives in upstate New York with his family in the 1840s. He is kidnapped on his way to Washington DC to pursue a business deal and is sold into slavery at its xenith in the American South. The story accounts his experiences as an enslaved man and his struggle to get back to his family. British (and black) director Steve McQueen (of Hunger and Shame) directs an all-star cast of Chiwetel Ejiofor (Solomon Northrup) Brad Pitt, Michael Fassbender, Benedict Cumberbatch, Paul Giamatti, Alfre Woodard, and outstanding newcomer Kenyan actress Lupita N’yongo.

Unlike Django Unchained, it is not particularly rough to watch in its violence. As a matter of fact, because I saw Django Unchained I think I was better prepared to see the brutality portrayed in 12 Years a Slave. To me the most brutal scenes were not of the requisite whipping or hanging of the slaves, but of the systematic emotional break down of Solomon as he realizes what has happened to him and no matter how hard he protests, no one will believe who he is, and if they do, they beat him physically or emotionally until he eventually gives up. Solomon’s breakdown from freeman to slave provides the most interesting twist, because it’s not just about a man who was born a slave, lived a slave, and died a slave. This story was about a freeman with the privileges and rights of any other freeman who had them ripped away. And it’s this that allows the viewer to see the full brutality of American slavery, and how it thrived off depriving the human spirit. It’s Solomon’s determination to get back to his family that keeps him surviving, but it’s his fear and occasional brushes with nearly getting caught, that increase his fear (e.g. writing a letter to his family when slaves aren’t supposed to read and write) and keep him a slave.

The movie does not shy from the gender dynamics that were also at play in American slavery through Solomon’s female counterparts. From a slave woman named Eliza, who is separated from her children, to Patsey (played by outstanding newcomer Lupita Nyong’o), who is the unfortunate object of her slave master’s sexual advances. Through Mistress Shaw, the black mistress of a white plantation owner (played with sass by Alfre Woodard) we hear of the “choices” that many enslaved black women have then as she tries to counsel Patsey. Submit to the master’s sexual advances or feel the whip on your back and work hours in the fields, she admonishes. However, sometimes even if you submitted to the master of the plantation’s desires, it didn’t guarantee your safety. As Patsey finds out from her sociopathic Master Epps (Michael Fassbender), who has an obsessive fascination with her that results in him brutalizing her and others around her who might get in his way as he “pursues” her. One such object of Epps’ hatred and source of distress for Patsey is Master Epps’ wife, a Bible-thumping bitter woman (Sarah Paulson), who in a fit of jealous rage throws a glass at Patsey’s head when she sees her husband ogling her.

Notes from the Telluride Film Festival: Reviews of ‘The Past’ and ‘Ida’

We learn in The Past that not is all as it seems, and maybe all that is left in the past isn’t really. Academy Award-winning director Asghar Farhadi (2011’s The Seperation) returns with his first movie outside of Iran. Ahmad (Ali Mosaffa) returns from Iran to finalize his divorce with Marie-Anne (Berenice Bejo, 2011’s The Artist) and finds himself awkwardly sleeping at the house of her new boyfriend, which also contains her children.

This is a guest post by Atima Omara-Alwala.

It’s in the Past, or Is It Really? A Review of The Past

We learn in The Past that not is all as it seems, and maybe all that is left in the past isn’t really. Academy Award-winning director Asghar Farhadi (2011’s The Seperation) returns with his first movie outside of Iran. Ahmad (Ali Mosaffa) returns from Iran to finalize his divorce with Marie-Anne (Berenice Bejo, 2011’s The Artist) and finds himself awkwardly sleeping at the house of her new boyfriend, which also contains her children.

Director Asghar Farhadi is Iranian, and in speaking about the film, addressed how he hopes–as someone from the East–that people from the East and the West can better understand one another through film. Certainly, The Past is, among many things, one of those movies that aims to dispel notions about his Iranian characters. First, the movie has a major female protagonist in Marie-Anne as the ex wife of Ahmad, in addition to her daughter Lucie, who is in a supporting role. Marie-Anne is a woman with a solid career as a pharmacist. Ahmad is an Iranian man, who adores children and is better with them than his soon-to-be ex-wife, and he enjoys cooking for his ex-wife and the children. The Western portrayal of Iranian men (or men from the Middle East) tends to show men as very patriarchal who treat women with disdain (eg, Not Without My Daughter). As if to ensure the viewer that Ahmad is not a one hit wonder, Marie-Anne also is in a serious relationship with a new Iranian man, Samir (Tamir Rahim) who is a single, devoted father to his son Fouad after his wife ends up in the hospital in a coma from a suicide attempt.

A web of secrets from the past threatens to destroy the lives of all the characters; how they grapple with it and deal with them (or if they do) is what makes this film riveting to watch for all viewers (as it has universal themes).

A must see by a talented director.

The Odd Couple: A Review of the Film Ida

Ida is a wonderfully-directed film by Polish director Paweł Pawlikowsk about two women learning about themselves and their family together. Anna (Agata Trzebuchowska) is a novice, an orphan brought up by nuns in a convent. Before she takes her vows, she is told of her only living relative, Wanda (Agata Kulesza), whom she seeks out to find the answers about her family.

Anna finds out she’s really not Catholic, but Jewish, according to her Aunt Wanda.

Wanda, a somber woman, wondering about what happened to her sister’s family (Anna’s parents) agrees to take a journey with her to find out what happened. It is a journey both women take that forces them to learn about each other, and it challenges each other’s beliefs.

You learn Wanda has fallen a bit in her career. Formerly a powerful attorney and judge in Communist Poland, you quickly see Wanda’s brilliance, intensity, and hardness. You see slices of what Wanda must have been when she demands answers on what happened to her sister from the family that now lives in her sister’s home. “You know I can destroy your life,” says Wanda. Anna is quiet and demure, a perfect product of her Catholic upbringing and at times clearly does not know what to make of her Aunt.

Putting a devout young sheltered Catholic woman with a wordly Polish Jewish woman is bound to create tension. When Anna quietly, but clearly, disapproves of her Aunt Wanda’s dancing, drinking, and flirting with men on one of their road trip stops, Wanda senses this and points out how Anna’s Jesus hung out with women like her (alluding to Mary Magdalene).

The saddest moment in the journey awaits them as they find out what really happened to their family. How they both deal with that tragedy and are impacted by their interactions with each other carries the last third of the film poignantly.

Shot in black and white, it resonates of a darker time in Poland. This is a must see because the story is touching and Paweł Pawlikowsk portrays the depths that are these women characters. Despite Anna being a novice on her way to being a nun and Wanda being a powerful career woman, they are not caricatures but real characters with feelings and desires who are figuring out their lives.

Atima Omara-Alwala is a political strategist and activist of 10 years who has served as staff on 8 federal and local political campaigns and other progressive causes. Atima’s work has had a particular focus on women’s political empowerment & leadership, reproductive justice, health care, communities of color and how gender and race is reflected in pop culture. Her writings on the topics have also been featured at Ms. Magazine, Women’s Enews, and RH Reality Check.

Not Another Teenaged Drama: A Review of ‘Palo Alto’

Palo Alto is what would happen if Mean Girls had a major collision with American Beauty. The picturesque neighborhoods with the homes of the screwed up parents of the main characters was entirely reminiscent of American Beauty. The parents’ self-absorption was stunning at times. And every time April’s high school girl classmates talked, it was like nails on a chalkboard (cue: Mean Girls’ Regina George, Gretchen Weiners, Karen Smith WITHOUT the comedy).

This is a guest post by Atima Omara-Alwala.

The next generation of directing Coppolas has come of age in Gia Coppola’s (granddaughter of renowned director Francis Ford Coppola) teenage angst drama featured in the American suburbs. Palo Alto is from a collection of short stories by actor James Franco (who knew he was a writer?), who stars in the film himself.

The main focus is around teenaged April (played by Emma Roberts, daughter of actor Eric Roberts) and Teddy (Jack Kilmer, Val Kilmer’s son) and their parallel existences with occasional touches on the lives of their fellow high school classmates who are obsessed with sex, substances, and suicide. The link between April and Teddy is that April likes Teddy, Teddy likes April–but because they’re teenagers, they never get around to saying it until much later into the film. In between this, April has a short-lived fling with her soccer coach, Mr. B (a very smarmy James Franco), and Teddy has a fling with Emily (Zoe Levin) (read: random fellatio at a house party). Also, Emily has a fling with Teddy’s best friend Fred (Nat Wolff), an all-star sociopathic misogynist.

Indeed, it is a tad heartbreaking to see how quickly Fred jumps back into his jeans after bedding Emily and callously views her deflated face afterwards or, in another scene, how he pushes Emily down to her knees for some oral attention–all the while demanding she tell him what an amazing guy he is. Emily is that girl you knew in high school who you A) thought was cool because she seemed outwardly confident, and sexually precocious (when you didn’t have a clue) and B) was being endlessly slut shamed for it by all the jealous “mean girls”–which, of course, happens in this film.

For all her outward confidence, Emily is really looking to be valued and validated. So it’s even more painfully awkward as a viewer when Emily keeps going back to Fred until finally, in a major pivotal scene, she’s had enough of his verbal and emotional abuse. Meanwhile, April is trying to figure out her “relationship” with Mr. B and her feelings for Teddy. It is hinted that the relationship April has with Mr. B is perhaps due to the lack of attention at home from a less-than-interested mother and an eccentric stepfather (played by Val Kilmer).

This is Gia Coppola’s first movie and not bad all around, but it was not revolutionary, and it is a story line that has been done more times than is necessary already: Y’know, the white middle-class to upper middle-class privileged kids who are bored and reckless–and who have no idea why they are so bored and reckless.

Palo Alto is what would happen if Mean Girls had a major collision with American Beauty. The picturesque neighborhoods with the homes of the screwed up parents of the main characters was entirely reminiscent of American Beauty. The parents’ self-absorption was stunning at times. And every time April’s high school girl classmates talked, it was like nails on a chalkboard (cue: Mean Girls’ Regina George, Gretchen Weiners, Karen Smith WITHOUT the comedy). There was very little diversity, no people of color except one or two as extras (which is often the case in a lot of suburbs anyway), and the only discussion of LGBT issues was Emily (who is already tagged as a whore) admitting to having done a girl-on-girl thing in a spirited game of “Never Have I Ever” (great).

If you went to high school in the suburbs and want a nowhere near humorous and somewhat awkward reminder of the whole experience, Palo Alto is your film.

Foreign Film Week: ‘War Witch’: Finally, a Movie About Africa Without the Cute White Movie Star

Guest post written by Atima Omara-Alwala.

So if something happens somewhere in Africa, and a white person is not there, do people hear it? well, according to Hollywood at least, no. There is an obsessive need in Western films to legitimize the African story and life through the existence of a major white character in the movie like The Last King of Scotland with James McAvoy or Blood Diamond with Leonardo DiCaprio, or even the The Constant Gardener with Rachel Weisz and Ralph Fiennes. These movies attempt to chronicle the horror of civil war or corruption that leads to major conflict in African nations. As the daughter of African immigrants who both lived their lives in a war torn country, I am grateful these stories are even being told but it’s a shame that the existence of attractive white movie stars is necessary to tell the story. Even more the reason, War Witch pleasantly surprised me. War Witch is a story from the perspective of one young African girl’s journey to reclaim her life in the face of war and sexual assault.

Primarily filmed in the Democratic Republic of Congo, War Witch is a 2012 Canadian drama film written and directed by Kim Nguyen. According to Canadian news The Globe & the Mail, Nguyen himself part Vietnamese and French was inspired by a Burmese story he read about child soldiers. Nguyen’s inspiration became War Witch. The story of a 12 year old Komona (Rachel Mwanza) who lives in a rural village in Africa when civil war in her country interrupts her childhood. Rebel forces invade her village, in a very painful scene, Komona’s induction into warfare is choosing between shooting her own parents (by the orders of the rebel commander) or watching them die a painful death at the hands of a machete. The scene is already heart wrenching but it becomes even more so when her parents say to her soothingly, “it’s okay” if she shoots them. After she kills them, she is taken from the only home she’s ever known to become one of rebel forces many child soldiers.

The film walks you through what life is life as a child soldier with rebel forces: waging guerilla warfare at any given moment, sleeping in the woods, eating rations. Komona adjusts to her new existence with a depressed and stunned silence. A fellow child soldier and albino boy named Magicien (Serge Kanyinda) befriends her and occasionally sneaks her food through their journey.

Aided by “magic milk” or a hallucinogen from a tree sap, that Magician finds for his fellow child soldiers to drink. Komona begins to see her parents and the ghosts of others killed by rebel forces who tell her how to avoid surprise attacks. She becomes so good at predicting surprise attacks she becomes the prized “war witch” to the rebel forces and particularly the “Great Tiger” the leader of the rebel forces played by (Mizinga Mwinga). In an interesting twist, on an attack gone awry one day, Magician convinces Komona to leave the rebel forces with him, confessing his love for her and desire to marry her.

What I love is despite what life has thrown at her Komona is a determined girl. While clearly drawn to Magicien, she refuses to marry him unless he can find a white rooster, which in her culture her father said, “when a man can find a white rooster, he can marry you”. Probably between her desperation to cling to family traditions, and to set some standards for herself she sends Magicien on what is a hilarious rooster chase (and a much needed lull from the horrors of war). Even though she finally consents, to marrying him without the white rooster (as he has become family to her while on the run), Magicien remains determined to find a white rooster, to prove he is worthy of her, which he does.

Afterwards, Komona and Magicien marry and they arrive at Magicien’s Uncle’s home. Magicien’s Uncle is called “Boucher” which is French for “butcher”. Boucher (Ralph Prosper) cuts meat for a living. It is learned the Boucher watched his entire family being butchered by a machete. Boucher’s trauma from watching his family cut to pieces is so strong he needs an empty pail next to him while he cuts animal meat, so he can vomit in pail due to the memories. This shared trauma bonds him and Magicien and Komona together like a family. And for a time, Komona is happy.

An abrupt turn of tragic events places Komona back in the hands of rebel forces and this time becomes the sex slave of the rebel commander. Komona is barely able to take it upon learning she’s pregnant as a result of continuous rape and exacts an excruciating painful revenge on her assaulter.

The rest of the movie focuses on her life post her second escape from the rebel forces. She returns to stay with Magicien’s Uncle, Boucher. Like Boucher she suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder. But they live in a world where rape is not even discussed (let along counseling services provided), and post-traumatic stress disorder is even less understood, Komona wrestles emotionally for peace. She sees a priestess to atone for her murders of countless people including her parents. The ghosts of her parents still haunt her dreams and she has regular nightmares of being attacked. And on top of everything else, she grapples with the expected anger and horror of being pregnant by her rapist. This is a lot to deal with for a woman of any age let along a young girl like Komona.

Why do I love this movie? It is a Western film of a civil war in an African nation told through the eyes of not just the Africans living through it, but through an African girl living the trauma and grappling with resolution for herself. Director Kim Nguyen came up against challenges in the film industry because of this take. In an interview with The Hollywood Reporter, Nguyen said: “I had brutal answers that would tell me a Black main actor doesn’t sell.” This makes it even more outstanding that War Witch not only swept, Jutra, the Quebec film awards but was a contender for the Golden Bear (equivalent of Best Film) at the 62nd Berlin International Film Festival in February 2012. For her work, Rachel Mwanza won the Silver Bear for Best Actress at the Berlin festival and Best Actress at the 2012 Tribeca Film Festival. War Witch also received the much coveted Academy Award nomination for Best Foreign Film of 2012.

It is amazing that for such an award-winning film, War Witch is not legitimized through the presence of a white European spectator (like in all the previously aforementioned Western films) who observes the tragedy and participates in what can only be called self-flagellation about why they can’t be a better “Great White Hope” for the poor Africans.

Another reason I love this movie? The men in Komona’s life do no legitimize her either. It is Komona’s journey alone, on her own defined terms, to redefine her life when for so long it was defined by her captors and everyone around her. It is also her journey to womanhood. It is interesting how Komona reaches some peace finally at the end of the movie, but the viewer is secure in knowing that it is her resolution and no one else’s.

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Atima Omara-Alwala is a political strategist and activist of 10 years who has served as staff on 8 federal and local political campaigns and other progressive causes. Atima’s work has had a particular focus on women’s political empowerment & leadership, reproductive justice, health care, communities of color and how gender and race is reflected in pop culture. Her writings on the topics have also been featured at Ms. Magazine, Women’s Enews, and RH Reality Check.

Women of Color in Film and TV: Mammy, Sapphire, or Jezebel, Olivia Pope is Not: A Review of ‘Scandal’

Scandal, created by Shonda Rimes and starring Kerry Washington

Guest post written by Atima Omara-Alwala.

Like every other woman of color who enjoys film and probably many film and TV critics alike, I waited with baited breath to see what the debut of Scandal, the first major network television show in nearly 40 years with an African American woman in the lead would bring. Even with a number of film awards that many black actresses have received in recent years, there has always been the criticism, and justified, that they are stereotypical limiting roles. With Shonda Rimes as creator of Scandal (the godmother of Grey’s Anatomy and Private Practice), whose work pioneered color-blind casting and complex characters regardless of race, I had exceptional high hopes this show would be different. Shonda didn’t disappoint.

Many writers and film critics have written about the three usual archetypes that black women have fit into in popular culture representation. And it is through this prism Scandal is viewed. The Jezebel, who is very sexually promiscuous; the Mammy, who is the tireless devoted mother like figure regardless of all the wrong you did; and the Sapphire, a head-whipping, finger-snapping, anger-filled black woman. These stereotypes permeate all aspects of the American black women experience.

In Scandal, the actress Kerry Washington (from Save the Last Dance, The Last King of Scotland, and Django Unchained) plays Olivia Pope. Olivia Pope is based loosely on the life of Judy Smith, a real Washington operative who is a former member of the George H. W. Bush White House and a well-known crisis manager in DC circles. Like Judy, Olivia works with her team of lawyers, former CIA operatives, and political operatives to fix the problems and very real scandals of her very prominent clients.

Olivia Pope is tough but not in a stereotypical overbearing black woman portrayal like Sapphire. She is tough with necessity. She works in Washington DC and is in the thick of national politics and crisis managing. As someone who actually has worked as a woman of color in politics, I know for a fact no shrinking violets need apply to a world where required skills to success are extreme confidence, intelligence, and very quick thinking, and in Scandal, apparently very fast talking. Among Olivia’s clients are Congressmen, candidates for public office, corporate executives, a renowned pastor, a President, and a former Presidential candidate.

Olivia is not a tireless devoted Mammy because to fix other people’s problems and scandals, Olivia takes a NICE check to clean up your mess. (Evidence: A townhouse in Washington DC and a designer wardrobe to die for, ladies!!) Olivia truly is the lady boss. Her team is fiercely loyal to her as she takes care of them and they do the best for her because she is the best at what she does. It’s established within the first couple of episodes how good she is at what she does. The White House, which she left, calls her back often, and people come to her because her gut, as she infamously says, “is never wrong.” While many of us have seen this in our personal and professional lives (eg. Judy Smith), Olivia Pope is something rarely seen in black women representation on screen and is LONG overdue.

Being a Shonda Rimes created character, Olivia is like all of Shonda Rimes’ female characters: while tough and brilliant, Olivia is a flawed and complicated women. Kerry Washington is a great actress with a broad range who can pull this off well. In one second Olivia is talking tough and intimidating even world officials and next she is sensitive woman with a trembling lip in the next.

But even though Olivia is the great fixer of other people’s problems and scandals, she hides and really can’t fix her own major one: Olivia has a long running affair with the President of the United States, Fitzgerald “Fitz” Grant III (Tony Goldwyn), from when she worked his campaign, who is also white.

Herein lies the debate on Scandal: Is Olivia a Jezebel dressed up in 21st century political correctness? Instead of being a hooker on the stroll, slave mistress, or black girl in heat, she has her own job and career but still got to be all up on someone else’s man, especially a white man? The black blogosphere and Twittersphere debate and differ in opinion. Some say yes: 45-year veteran in advertising Tom Burrell, who has worked to promote positive portrayals of black people in media, calls Oliva Pope “a “hot-to-trot” sexually aggressive trope as old as the institution of slavery itself in the character” (damn!). Some brought up, by extension, the inevitable comparison to a Thomas Jefferson/Sally Hemings drama pretty darn quickly (of course) and some go as far as to guilt other black women (specifically) viewers for watching the show, in one popular meme (seriously?). Others defiantly say no, Olivia Pope is NOT a Jezebel. For my part, I tend to agree with the naysayers.

Olivia Pope is a groundbreaking black female character on television, period. She is a self-reliant, highly accomplished most sought-after professional. But she also made the mistake (something which she very much realizes) of falling in love with a white married man, who also happens to be, oh, the leader of the free world. The show is sharp in that it doesn’t make Olivia blind to her circumstance as any black woman in her shoes wouldn’t be. You find out in Season 2 that not only does she leave the White House to start her own firm but to get herself away from the President and let him focus to be the President he needed. Even in a fit of frustration she says of her relationship with Fitz to him, “I’m feeling a little Sally Hemings-Thomas Jefferson about all this.” Later Fitz confronts Olivia and tells her that the comment was “below the belt.” Because, he said: “You’re playing the race card on the fact that I’m in love with you.” He then proceeds to soliloquize his love so intensely for Olivia, that she (and even I) were a bit worried for his mental state.

Olivia is no Jezebel, because she takes control of her destiny being tied to Fitz and leaves it to chart her own path. Olivia is no Jezebel because the show has progressed long enough for her to have built a relationship with another man, a highly accomplished black man at that, while she still unquestionably loves Fitz she actually attempts to move on with her life, unlike him. No, she’s not perfect, but raise your hands in the air and wave them like you just don’t care if YOU are. As a black woman I realize we want to see ourselves escape the stereotypes because we’ve been held down by these images so much that we inevitably hold ourselves up to perfection to escape it. But this is also damagingly unrealistic for the black woman to do that not only to our mental health but perception from others. Frankly, the more of our stories are out there, the more we’ll reach parity in representation in film and television.

If I have any criticism on Scandal, it’s who IS Olivia, before Fitz, before the White House, and how she came to do what she does. We have a better snapshot, if not complete, on most characters, and knowing Shonda likes to take her time unfolding a character, I am looking forward to what that brings.

All in all, I think Shonda Rimes has done an outstanding job breaking barriers and it looks like she has struck a chord with African American audiences, according to the latest New York Times article. According to Nielsen, Scandal is the highest rated scripted drama among African-Americans, with 10.1 percent of black households, or an average of 1.8 million viewers, tuning in during the first half of the second season. Real life crisis manager Judy Smith live tweets during the show as do other prominent black political operatives and commentators, namely Donna Brazile and Roland Martin. Among the group aged 18 to 34, the show typically ranks first in its 10 p.m. Thursday time slot, which means success to the industry. It’s fast moving, jaw dropping, how-in-the-hell-did-I-not-guess-that cliff hangers that Shonda Rimes is so good at, combined with great actors, projects nothing but continued success for Scandal.

And I will be there every Thursday to watch.

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2013 Oscar Week: More Royal Than Affair

A Royal Affair (2012)

Guest post written by Atima Omara-Alwala.

Anyone reading the synopsis of A Royal Affair wonders if it will be more of the same. I mean what else can be said about a high-born woman trapped in loveless marriage to an awful unsophisticated idiot who finds love in the arms of an enlightened dashing sensitive man? (Looking at you Keira Knightley, in The Duchess or let’s be real, any movie about Marie Antoinette). However it is saved by actually not being about the affair but a story of the fight for enlightenment and freedom. These ideals are at the center of Danish director Nikolaj Arcel’s film, which is based on the lives of Danish King Christian VII, his wife and Queen Caroline, Mathilde, and their royal physician, Dr. Johan Streunsee.

The protagonist is Caroline Mathilde (Alice Viksander), who is the primary orator of the movie. We find her in exile in an undescribed place where she begins to write her story to her children. Caroline, who is English by birth, is betrothed at a young age to the equally young King Christian VII (Mikkel Følsgaard) of Denmark. Though the story does not go into great detail about her family origin, she is the youngest child of the then-ruling British royal family.

Being a young woman of royal birth, the best that women of Caroline’s station can hope for is a powerful marriage, with love as a luxury. This expectation is driven home in the scene where Caroline frets over whether her husband should like her. Her mother, actually trying to be very kind, says, “Dear, if you are able to get your husband into your bed on your wedding night, you will be a great success.”

And so with that Caroline’s married life begins as she is sent to a foreign land she has never visited to a place with a language she barely speaks. King Christian the VII as a husband leaves much to be desired. He is relatively childish and awkward but, beyond that, something is mentally off about him. His mental instability is made apparent in a scene where King Christian’s stepmother, the Queen Dowager Juliane Marie (Trine Dyrholm), warns him his wife’s prettiness and artistic abilities can eclipse his reign. Very suddenly, Christian moves from happiness to anger, as he takes his insecurity out on Caroline in front of their guests and demands that she “move her fat thighs” away from the piano she is playing for guests. A real Prince Charming, to be sure. Caroline, justifiably, is horrified into shocked silence as is everyone else in the room. The King’s mental capability and his mercurial nature becomes an important player in the film later.

The following wedding night scene is so painfully awkward you can’t help but feel sorry for Caroline right away. Thankfully, the filmmaker saves us from the rest of the inartful consummation by fading to black. The unhappy marriage is summed up very quickly in the next few scenes as her only solace is her friendship with lady-in-waiting, Louise Von Plessen who is sent away eventually. Christian VII is revealed to not only be verbally abusive but a heavy drinker, carouser and frequenter of Copenhagen’s finer houses with ladies of ill-repute. All of which rightfully disgusts and angers Caroline but she endures with relative matriarchal silence. Eventually, Caroline completes her most important royal duty and becomes pregnant with her first child and heir to the throne Frederik.

Around this time, enters Dr. Johan Struensee (Mads Mikkelsen, a former Bond villain in 2006’s Casino Royale!). What is interesting about Johann is that besides being a doctor he is also a man of the Enlightenment movement that is sweeping the continent. A well-read man, Johann bonds with the king over their mutual love of Shakespeare. It is for this major reason he is selected to be the royal physician and then elevated to overall trusted adviser.

King Christian’s irritation with his wife’s continued moodiness over their marriage leads to him encouraging Johann to give his wife a checkup to find out what exactly ails her, so she can be more “fun” in the King’s words.

In her own right, Caroline has an excellent education and it is revealed before she came to Denmark that she also enjoyed the writings of Voltaire, Rousseau, and other idols of the Enlightenment. Her bond forms with Johann, whom she has regarded with suspicion and complicit in her husband’s behavior, when she realizes he has smuggled and hidden many of these banned writers’ books into Denmark. In Johann, Caroline finds someone who can understand her, and in her Johann instantly respects a woman he greatly underestimated as clearly just another pretty and mindless royal wife. The bond is further cemented when Johann convinces the King and Queen that their son and heir, Frederic,k needs to be vaccinated from smallpox, something never done, but Johann successfully does also gaining him admirers at Court.

While Johann and Caroline eventually enter into the expected royal affair, the story becomes more about what their illicit partnership cultivated. Johann often accompanies the King to his Council meetings where the conservative Council men enact oppressive rulings of the state of Denmark. Due to his clear mental incapabilities, the Council treats the King like a puppet. And Johann and Caroline are both frustrated by the Council’s anti-Enlightenment, conservative, aristocratic policies of censorship and the unequal rights of men etc. It is Caroline who reminds Johann of his power over the impressionable King. And it is then that the light turns on for Johann of how the King can be used to promote a greater good.

And so it unfolds, King Christian, through the influence of Caroline and Johann’s affair, becomes the arbiter of the Enlightenment movement in Denmark. He abolishes the conservative Council, establishes freedom of the press, ends prison torture, etc. Denmark becomes a pioneering country in freedom even at the notice of Voltaire himself. Like Caroline and Johann, strangely even King Christian appears most happy during this time, as Johann is careful with his power over the King encouraging him to think actively and use his power as king but for enlightenment ideals. The political intrigue and fight for power is at the heart of this film as both Caroline and Johann fight for control from the conservative council with the King as their proxy.

Like all movements challenging the status quo, the conservative Council challenges the ideals of the Enlightenment celebrated by Caroline and Johann and their informal salon they have gathered around them. For US viewers the conservative Council’s arguments against social reforms is very familiar.. “Where is the money?” “Must be paid for” etc. And certainly viewers around the world can related to the ideals of equality and freedom. The unfolding chess match, with the mentally unstable King as its chess piece, has its consequences finally as the conservative council reaches a major checkmate against Queen Caroline and Dr. Streunsee. Caroline and Christinan’s enemy at the court, Queen Dowager Juliane Marie discovers her infidelity through the questioned birth of Caroline’s second child, Louisa.

The consequences of political infighting and manipulation even for a greater good plays itself out in a less than idealistic fashion and as a result we find Caroline back as we did at the start of the movie, in exile, penning the final pieces of her story to her children, in hopes they at least understand, if not accept her motivations. What the children do with that knowledge makes for an interesting ending.

This movie is Oscar worthy and passes the feminist smell test because A) Despite the title has “affair” in it has surprisingly little gratuitous sex in it, especially at the expense of Caroline. B) She controls the narrative and not someone else which is often the case with women who end up in her situation (read: Henry VIII’s unlucky wives) C) She is an equal partner in the Enlightenment discussion with Johann. D) it is less about an affair and is more about the coming together of two unlikely revolutionaries whose intellectual partnership became a major historical turning point for a nation’s history and political system.

While Alice Viksander didn’t carry a ton of emotional range as Queen Caroline she does command your respect, and your interest in the movie to the very end.

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