Nicole Beharie – Bitch Flicks

‘Sleepy Hollow’: The Phoenix Rises From Its Ashes?

While the episode wasn’t perfect we can only hope that ‘Sleepy Hollow’ will pull off what it has planned and at least for the time being there’s no need to dust off the #AbbieMillsDeservesBetter hashtag.

This is a guest post by Giselle Defares.

Will FOX be able to save Sleepy Hollow? That was the question that bothered critics and fans alike these past nine months. Not since NBC’s Heroes has a show sunk its own ship from season 1 to 2. FOX and TPTB promised to reboot the story and go back to the magic of season 1.

In the wake of the season 3 premiere this has to be said. The bar for Sleep Hollow’s promotion was set very low and they still missed the mark leading up to the premiere on Oct. 1. All the budget on FOX must have gone to the Empire promo but there had to be someone in the PR department who could have thought of utilizing social media to drum up the interest and the show’s scattered fan base (at least earlier than a week before the show starts). It’s ridiculous that Emmy-winner Viola Davis drummed up more buzz for Nicole Beharie in her speech than the PR department has accomplished in three seasons. That is something else.

There were many things that had to be dealt with in the first episode. There was a nine-month time jump, the broken relationship between Ichabod and Abbie, Jenny back on the forefront, the introduction of two new characters, and last but not least: the case of the week.

In the opening we’re directly introduced to the new villain Pandora (Shannyn Sossamon), who captures the Headless Horseman into her box (or in her own words “it’s more of a dowry”) whilst singing a song. By capturing the Headless Horseman, Pandora gave the box “the power of death” and thus she was able to summon the yaoguai. This is a battlefield demon who paralyzes people and feeds on their fear, which ultimately kills them. This was a great move to tie up the storylines of season 2, hand the baton from one villain to another, but leave the door open. Sossamon plays her role well and it’s interesting to note that during one episode she successfully performed more magic than Katrina in two seasons. How’s that for progress?

We find out that Abbie Mills (Nicole Beharie) has moved on with her life and is fully focused on her career. She finished her training with the FBI and is now a working agent under the leadership of her new mentor Mitch Granger (C. Thomas Howell). During their bust of the multi-state drug trafficking ring – with the cheesy name Anaconda- she receives a phone call with news regarding an old friend.

After the loss of his wife Katrina and son Henry in the season finale, Ichabod Crane (Tom Mison) told Abbie that he was going to “clear his head” and then never came back: “I required solitude. Then it became a habit. A deeply regrettable one.” This was a nice touch. He was grieving after all and needed time to find himself again. Ichabod traveled back to Scotland and searched for answers in his family’s tomb. He found a 4,000-year-old tablet marked with Sumerian engravings which translated to “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” OK.

Ichabod travelled back to the States and his family heirloom ensured that he got locked up and he has been in the custody of Immigrations and Customs Enforcement for five days before he called Abbie. The reason? He was ashamed and the necklace that Abraham gave Katrina (that contains his soul) lost its power, which means that something is wrong with the Headless Horseman, and they need to find out what it means. (Side note: Team Witness was still in sync during their time apart since they opted for the same haircut.)

The scene of the first demon attack is in a national park. Two men end up dead and the authorities suspect an animal attack. Abbie knows the area and states that it doesn’t have the right kind of predators. It was a nice moment to see the dynamic between the two. Ichabod the believer and Abbie the sceptic working together as a team; both brought their knowledge to the table. Or as Ichabod dramatically states, “Evil has returned to Sleepy Hollow.”

The duo heads back to the archives and there’s a lovely reunion with Jenny Mills (Lyndie Greenwood). Unfortunately, Irving won’t be coming back but Jenny explains what happened to him and hints that she helped him disappear. Jenny now works as a paralegal and is slowly finding her way back into society. She helps Ichabod and Abbie find out what the substance is that they found in the national park. She quips, “I spent years recovering obscure artifacts from all over the world – this is what I do.” Amen.

It wouldn’t be Sleepy Hollow without a historical connection and a flashback. They find out that when Benjamin Franklin wrote about the “red devil” at Bunker Hill, it didn’t refer to the redcoats names but to the yaoguai. In the flashback that follows we find out that it was Betsy Ross (Nikki Reed) who delivered the message to Colonel Prescott and thus turned history at Bunker Hill. While Sossamon fares well in her role, Reed doesn’t really make a lasting impression. In part because she didn’t really have much to do in her scenes. Her foreshadowing with the line “one day you’ll meet someone who make you forget all those manners” was a nice touch. It’s certainly funny that all the female characters of Ichabod’s past – historic icons no less- have been sexified and all have romantic ties with Ichabod. Betsy Ross felt modern, thus out of place and was dressed like a lost extra on the set of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Abbie is pulled back into work mode when the FBI receives a tip on their drug bust. She finds out that aggression and gunpowder attracts the yaoguai. Unfortunately, the yaoguai paralyzes her mentor Granger and slashes his throat. Why does she need to lose her mentors this way? Abbie does fire some shots and injures the yaoguai, which is a surprise to Team Witness since the demon is supposed to be invulnerable. The yaoguai has one weakness: it can be wounded when its eyes flash white in order to steal someone’s fear. Whilst Abbie is focused on the drug ring. Ichabod and Jenny hastily conduct a plan to trap the yaoguai. It seems to go well but in the end it’s Abbie who saves the day.

The episode is definitely miles better than most of season 2, yet there are some things that are hit or miss. There was no need for an Asian drug ring just because Team Witness was dealing with a Chinese demon. Hopefully Betsy Ross will be less bland in the upcoming episodes. The dialogue is sometimes very on the nose. Whilst trying to find out what demon there up against, Ichabod finds a book where it states that the demon looks for fear and it’s a servant not a master, to which Jenny states: “ Meaning that someone summoned it here, someone evil.” Jenny had some other questionable lines such as “ Guns, knives, things that go boom. We’re back in the demon-fighting business and I think we’re going to need them.” Alright, didn’t think of that. By the way, we still don’t know how Ichabod was able to travel to Scotland (and back) and how he made his living in the past year. How Sway? At least he’s entertaining the idea of finding a job.

While the episode wasn’t perfect we can only hope that Sleepy Hollow will pull off what it has planned and at least for the time being there’s no need to dust off the #AbbieMillsDeservesBetter hashtag.

Giselle Defares comments on film, fashion (law) and American pop culture. See her blog here.

The Veil of Diversity in ‘Sleepy Hollow’

The realm of sci-fi and fantasy offers many possibilities to challenge the status quo. It’s the ultimate platform to show diversity and portray a more nuanced characterization of people. Let’s hope that ‘Sleepy Hollow’ can pull of what it has planned and there will be no need to dust off the #AbbieMillsDeservesBetter hashtag.

This is a guest post by Giselle Defares.

Television as an mirror that reflects the cultural dynamic that’s present in our society. Ha. There are a few shows that get it right–see the socio-economic depiction in The Wire or the gender politics in Mr. Robot–but more often than not, television formats succumb to trite stereotypes and travel the well-trodden path of TV tropes. The recent change in the TV landscape, “The Golden Age of diversity and representation,” made it seem that there were more roles for actors of color. Yet, the numbers from the 2015 diversity report on Hollywood, Flipping the Script – from UCLA’s Ralph Bunche Center for African American Studies – are only marginally better than previous years.

Veteran showrunners Alex Kurtzman and Roberto Orci are known for their teamwork in sci-fi – see Fringe, Cowboys & Aliens, Star Trek: Into Darkness. They took a chance on a script by Phillip Iscove, who was toiling away as an assistant at UTA, and Iscove sold his pitch based on the “man out of time” element. They teamed up with director/executive producer Len Wisemen, mostly known from his work on the Underworld franchise, to create one of the more kooky TV formats: Sleepy Hollow (2013).

The conversation has shifted in recent years when it comes to the portrayal of Black women who have graced our screens. From the groundbreaking start with the working single mother Julia Baker on Julia, to the mid-1970s with the working-class housekeeper Florida Evans in Good Times, followed by educated womanhood in the form of Clair Huxtable in the 1980s with The Cosby Show, to the Black professionals such as Maxine Shaw in Living Single, independent women Pam and Gina in Martin, to Whitley in A Different World. Funnily enough, in the 1990s most channels featured shows with a diverse cast. However, once the ratings were high enough they would replace them with mostly white-orientated shows after the network got traction – see UPN, CW, WB, FOX.

Most would say that the reign of Shonda Rimes and her Shondaland production company paved the way for Black characters such as Miranda Bailey in Grey’s Anatomy, Olivia Pope in Scandal, Annalise Keating in How to Get Away with Murder. Other networks followed suit and there’s Mary Jane Paul on Being Mary Jane, Rainbow Johnson on Black-ish, and we can’t forget about Ms. Cookie Lyon on Empire. It’s refreshing to see a variety of Black women represented on the screen. Characters who’re not molded in the archetypes that are damaging society’s perception of Black women – think Strong Black Woman, Mammy, Jezebel, Video Vixen, and so on.

Not every (main) Black character gets the treatment they deserve and debunk archetypes. Characters such as Tara Thornton in True Blood, Bonnie Bennett in The Vampire Diaries, Lacey Porter in Twisted, Iris West in The Flash, and Abbie Mills in Sleepy Hollow, are coming together as captivating women who are used to promote diversity in the show and are slowly pushed aside when the fan base is secured and TPTB still think they have to cater to a certain demographic. Well, it seems that the bait and switch tactic never went out of style.

Abbie, Ichabod and Frank — Abbie, Ichabod, and Frank

The premise of Sleepy Hollow sounds farfetched, but somehow it work(s)(ed). The show is loosely based on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving. Ichabod Crane (Tom Mison) wakes up in our century and has to stop the Headless Horseman from starting the Apocalypse. He meets Lieutenant Abbie Mills (Nicole Beharie) and together they are the “Witnesses” who will stop the Apocalypse as is written in the Book of Revelation. The duo gets help from Abbie’s sister, Jenny Mills (Lyndie Greenwood), who has in-depth knowledge on the evil forces and artifacts. The stern Captain Frank Irving (Orlando Jones), Abbie’s boss, who reluctantly starts to believe in their cause; and finally the whispery Katrina Crane (Katia Winter), Ichabod’s wife, who “tries” to help the team whilst being stuck in ‘a world between life and death’ a.k.a purgatory, which is ruled by the main antagonist Moloch.

In essence, it’s a tried formula. There’s the overarching mythos of Sleepy Hollow, sprinkled with an ‘army of evil, Lt. Abbie Mills as the reluctant character who works hard and suppresses her own demons and deals with family concerns. Of course her partner is a snarky, knowledgeable yet flawed British hero who fully believes in the mythology. Nevertheless, the chemistry between Mison and Beharie is electric and lured fans in to join the duo on their (un)believable journey. Credit also goes to the multi-racial supporting cast with John Cho as police officer John Brooks, Nicholas Gonzalez as Detective Luke Morales who’s also Abbie’s ex-boyfriend, Jill Marie Jones and Amandla Stenberg as respectively Frank Irving’s ex-wife Cynthia and daughter Macey.

Season 1 was fun, period. It was accepting of all the cheesiness and ran with it in order to create solid (cult) television. Sure, the dialogue was clunky, there were small loose ends, the pacing was off, but it didn’t matter. The diverse cast really made it work. In October 2013, executive producer Heather Kadin even joked: “[..]because we have so much diversity in our cast and we’ve had the freedom to cast our villains and victims however we want, so we can kill as many white people as we want.” It now turned out that it was too good to be true.

Sleepy Hollow became the surprise freshman hit of the season. Fox quickly renewed the show after only two episodes aired and didn’t order the back nine episodes – usual concept for network shows – and kept the show at 13 episodes. Fox later upgraded the show to a total of 18 episodes for season 2. So, the showrunners had the time – there are 10 months between the first and second season – to focus on season 2 in order to make it bigger and better. Right. From the mediocre promotion for the second season, to the casting announcement of Matt Barr as Indiana Jones’ reject Nick Hawley who essentially plays the same role as Jenny Mills, to Alessandra Stanley’s inaccurate NYT article that unjustly called Beharie a sidekick. It was merely the alarm that showed us how season 2 would play out. The bait and switch was almost a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Solving crime with the Mills’ Sisters — Solving crime with the Mills Sisters

Season 2 has aptly been named by some as “the screenwriters guide of how not to write a show.” One of the catalysts of the demise of season 2 is the fact that Kurtzman and Orci left to do other projects and instilled their faith on showrunner Mark Goffman. Sure, Goffman earned his stripes with series such as White Collar, but he couldn’t handle Sleepy Hollow.

It’s mindboggling that the Juilliard-trained Beharie, who proudly advocated for her character in an interview with Essence – and didn’t expect to portray a tough, cop character with her 5′ 1″ stature and African American background – was pushed aside in favor of “The Crane family drama.” Katrina Crane’s story arc was deplorable. She was touted as a powerful witch from the start. Instead she was only used as a plot device in the first season. They tried to flesh her character out in season 2 and failed. Ichabod Crane became a moping know-it-all (more than usual) who ignored Abbie’s advice to keep focused on their common goal. Fringe’s John Noble was wasted as Ichabod and Katrina’s son who turned out to be The Horseman of War and got his mother pregnant with an evil, demon baby – don’t ask. Not to mention that the Headless Horseman became a woobified character, “grew” a head, and turned out to be Katrina’s ex instead of a menacing villain. The Powers That Be (TPTB) molded Katrina into a damsel in distress that ate up the screen time that should have further explored the relationship between Abbie and Jenny, Abbie and Ichabod, basically everything surrounding Abbie Mills.

The other members of “Team Witness” didn’t fare better. Lyndie Greenwood was promoted to series regular, but was most of the time nowhere to be found in favor of Nick Hawley. Captain Frank Irving and his family’s storyline was cast aside, only to be shortly revived in the most ridiculous way. The show was at its best when Team Witness came together to fight evil and showed the underlying dynamic between the different characters. Add that with the casting of House of Cards actress Sakina Jaffrey as Sheriff Leena Reyes, who has an connection with Abbie’s past, but was severely underused throughout the show.

The diversity of the cast gave the wobbly storyline that extra spunk. Characters of color who seamlessly worked together and aren’t focused on anyone’s race and color – though the show doesn’t hide from commenting on race. Abbie and Jenny are normal, intelligent, layered characters with flaws who’ve showed their vulnerable side, thus debunking the archetype of “The Strong Black woman.” Most fans – and critics- were frustrated after eight episodes had aired of the second season. The diversity and representation went right out of the window with the start of season 2.

Social media further added fuel to the fire within the fandom. At the start of the first season, Orlando Jones quickly broke the fourth wall. He created his own Tumblr page and participated in fandom discussions. Jones actively created more promotion for the show than whatever the Sleepy Hollow PR department was/is trying to do.

The unrest in the fandom sparked the #AbbieMillsDeservesBetter hashtag, where fans could vent their frustrations and asks the writers and staff of Sleepy Hollow why Beharie has been pushed to the background in a show in which she’s a lead character. Sleepy Hollow writer Raven Metzner came under fire on social media when he lashed out to the “haters” of the show. The show slightly redeemed itself with the last four episodes – even with the plot where Abbie was transported back to Ichabod’s time and was seen as a slave, they tiptoed the line with the racial insensitivity, but handled it well. Now, not only was Abbie shelved in the show, apparently Beharie was initially left out on the DVD commentary for season 2.

Sci-fi and fantasy writer Genevieve Valentine at io9 made some valid points when it comes to the trajectory of the show. In a series of Tweets she explains, “The unexpected success of season 1 relied heavily on tweaking tropes – not least of which was the trope of the white mythical heroes. [..] This show cannot be trusted with its own story, and that’s a sad place of no-faith to be coming from with the cast and potential it has.” So, the bait and switch from season 2 didn’t work out as planned. Fans and critics alike have voiced their opinions, but will the necessary changes be made?

The criticism didn’t go unnoticed. During the TCA press tour in January, Fox TV chairman and CEO Dana Walden mentioned that the show will be less serialized and have a slightly lighter tone in the future. Well, one of the first changes is a cross-over with the crime procedural show Bones (!). Soon after came the news that Orlando Jones involuntarily left the show. This is a blow for the promotion of Sleepy Hollow. Neither Mison nor Beharie are very active on social media whether it’s promoting the show or engaging with fans; however, Greenwood picked up the baton from Jones.

Furthermore, on August 2, the new showrunner Clifton Campbell (The Glades), told TV Guide that the Headless Horsemen won’t return this season. He said, “But we have a new framework and a new set of rules for the mythology.” Yeah, look how that previously turned out.

The storyline will jump one year ahead. This will give Ichabod the time to grieve over his wife and son, and maybe get a job to start paying the bills. Abbie will be more focused on her job now as an FBI agent. Still, the casting for season 3 went off with a rough start with the announcement of Nikki Reed (Twilight) as series regular Betsy Ross (the legendary seamstress apparently had a thing with Ichabod back in the day), and she will bring a “smart and sexy edge” to the show. Wayward Pines’ Shannyn Sossamon will play the mysterious woman Pandora who asks Ichabod and Abbie for help. It almost seems that TPTB didn’t get the memo. Fans and critics alike asked for more focus on Ichabod and Abbie and Team Witness. Luckily some recent additions seem promising. Lance Gross (Crisis) makes his debut as Abbie’s boss and we’ll see the return of fan-favorite Zach Appelman as Joe Corbin.

So, why stick with Sleepy Hollow? First off, Nicole Beharie is captivating as Lt. Abbie Mills and we need to see more diverse Black leading women on tv. After all, that’s true representation. Secondly, the nuanced relationship and charm between Tom Mison and Nicole Beharie. It’s a natural chemistry that seems so effortless. It would be a waste not to enjoy it while you can. Thirdly, the bait and switch tactic was disastrous for the show; TPTB are still trying to recover from that, it’s only onwards and upwards from here.

The realm of sci-fi and fantasy offers many possibilities to challenge the status quo. It’s the ultimate platform to show diversity and portray a more nuanced characterization of people. Let’s hope that Sleepy Hollow can pull of what it has planned and there will be no need to dust off the #AbbieMillsDeservesBetter hashtag.

Giselle Defares comments on film, fashion (law) and American pop culture. See her blog here.

American Mythology in ‘Sleepy Hollow’

I think this show demonstrates some of the very best and the very worst of quintessential Americanism: the idea of the melting-pot and a generous cultural and mythological syncretism or ecumenism, and a fine implementation of the ideals of opportunity, liberty, and justice for all; but also a pro-American revisionism that uncritically elevates the ideals of the US above all and completely ignores the genocide at the foundation of this nation. ‘Sleepy Hollow’ mythologizes the past in a way that speaks volumes about the present.

On moving back to the US as an adult, I was struck by the similarities between literalist Christian readings of the Bible and a certain attitude toward the United States Constitution. In much of the public discourse, both Bible and Constitution are the highest forms of authority on earth, revealed to humans from on high through prophet-men (let’s be real, they’re almost all men) who are the temporal agents of an eternal plan and must be revered. In certain circles, “the Bible/Constitution says it” seems to be the final word in any dispute.

My problem with this attitude arises from my understanding of textuality, wherein texts don’t have mouths, there is no reading without context, and the very concept of textual authority is an invention of a historically specific time and place. But this easy transference of (un)critical hermeneutic between religious and political spheres is a quintessentially USian phenomenon, and gloriously campy fantasy show Sleepy Hollow is a fascinating engagement of specifically American religious and political mythology for the 21^st century.

It's as American as a headless soldier eating a donut! — It’s as American as a headless soldier eating a donut!

The supernatural elements of the show draw on the kind of pop Christianity that permeates US culture, even – especially? – among those who are not directly familiar with biblical texts. The characters make easy malapropisms, calling the final book of the New Testament “Revelations” and threatening to “call in the damn Calvary.” The Headless Horseman of Washington Irving’s original story has been recast as one of the horsemen of the apocalypse, following the whole Left Behind, End Times, Scofield Bible prophecy interpretation of Revelation that pervades the culture (and Supernatural, another particularly American show). There is a supernatural syncretism here, though, more melting-pot than other fantasy shows in its cheery everything-and-the-kitchen-sink fusion of pop occultism and pop religion, involving demons and witches and the Sandman and prophecies and sin-eaters and necromancy and golems (and not forgetting the whole time-travel thing, which makes for some of the silliest moments on a very silly show).

sleepy-hollow-skinny-jeans — Did you think I wasn’t going to mention the skinny jeans?

More important than the pop religion, though, is the pop Americanism saturating the show. Transporting a figure from the period of the Revolutionary War to the present day allows the writers to liberally sprinkle in people and events from the mythology of the founding of the United States. Ichabod Crane has convenient personal experience with all the big events and important names listed in the history books, from the drafting of the Constitution to Paul Revere. Franklin and Jefferson and Washington, oh my. Some humor is derived from the juxtaposition of the pop-history version of events with Crane’s personal memories thereof, which is a nice little comment on the popular mythologization of history.

However, the show steers clear of challenging American myth-making too strongly. Crane is a defector from the British to the true and noble cause of FREEDOM – a British dude with a British accent is now the quintessential American, the only one around with personal experience of the country’s founding. It’s a neat piece of reverse colonialism, I guess, to which I as a Brit can only shrug and say, “Fair do’s.” But the show has yet to say anything about, you know, the original colonialism. For all its mythological syncretism and its welcome cast of African-American, Asian-American, and Latin@ characters, Sleepy Hollow is conspicuously devoid of Native Americans. I’m not asking the show to tick off a bingo card of lip-service diversity – that would possibly be even worse – but it seems disingenuous at best and actively revisionist at worst to celebrate the founding of the United States while perpetuating the cultural erasure of the people on whose literal erasure this country began.

Of course, a silly fantasy TV show can only bear the weight of so much challenge to our culture’s foundational mythology, and the writers are probably wise to steer clear of getting too deeply into the values dissonance between the 18^th and 21^st centuries, even if it requires a little extra suspension of disbelief. Ichabod is conveniently untouched by the prejudices of his (and our) time regarding women and people of color. It’s an important part of American mythology-building that anybody can be or do anything and systemic barriers aren’t in their way. This is, of course, not true of reality, but I’m glad the writers made the choice to build a world with less systemic injustice than ours. It would take a very skilled writing team indeed to engage real-world systemic injustice meaningfully within the framework of a show that literally includes dialogue like, “The Headless Horseman is mowing people down to bring about the end of days. For further questions please call Ichabod Crane, the man who beheaded him in 1781.” Choosing to steer clear of getting too weighty left the writers two main options: fill the show with white people so you don’t have to talk about race, or implicitly create a world largely free of microaggressions. Given that the vast majority of popular culture picks the former, it’s refreshing to see the latter. Abbie Mills is awesome on so many levels, and so are the many other people of color among the cast of characters.

And it would be unfair to claim that the show completely ignores race. For example, there’s a great little scene in episode 7 where Ichabod is lauding Thomas Jefferson in front of Abbie and Frank Irving. When they challenge him on Jefferson’s slave ownership, he gets hyper-defensive and bangs on about how much Jefferson TOTALLY WORKED FOR ABOLITION YOU GUYS.

Abbie: “Maybe Sally Hemings inspired him.”

Crane: “Who is Miss Hemings?”

When they explain Jefferson’s relationship with Hemings, Crane gets all pissy about how Jefferson would NEVAR do that, and he only accepts that he might be wrong about Jefferson when Abbie shows him that Jefferson stole a snappy witticism of his. It’s a nicely barbed commentary on white privilege, and how often white people – even white people who are implausibly free of overt racism – find personal injury to themselves more offensive than, say, slave-ownership.

In the end I think this show demonstrates some of the very best and the very worst of quintessential Americanism: the idea of the melting-pot and a generous cultural and mythological syncretism or ecumenism, and a fine implementation of the ideals of opportunity, liberty, and justice for all; but also a pro-American revisionism that uncritically elevates the ideals of the US above all and completely ignores the genocide at the foundation of this nation. Sleepy Hollow mythologizes the past in a way that speaks volumes about the present – and, of course, it is very, very silly.

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Max Thornton blogs at Gay Christian Geek, tumbles as trans substantial, and is slowly learning to twitter at @RainicornMax. He’s excited for tonight’s two-hour Sleepy Hollow season finale.

Kickass Women of Color on TV: ‘Sleepy Hollow’ Edition

Written by Erin Tatum.

There are precious few characters of color and particularly women of color on screen. Characters of color usually serve the primary function of helping white characters through dilemmas. If they are given their own plots, expect their storylines to be zany comic relief while the white characters deal with the serious business. Orange Is the New Black is a big step in the right direction, but many have been quick to point out that although the women of color are delightfully nuanced and the white protagonist can be downright irritating, the show probably wouldn’t have gotten off the ground without an affluent white woman as the main character. It’s 2013, so I say it’s about time that we allow women of color to shine in their own right without tacking on white ladies as a wink to ratings or as an apology, wouldn’t you agree?

Fortunately, Sleepy Hollow is here to step up to the plate. Lt. Abbie Mills (Nicole Beharie) could easily go head-to-head with Olivia Pope as far as badass ladies of color. Mills finds herself teamed up with Ichabod Crane (Tom Mison), who is mysteriously resurrected nearly 250 years after his death in the Revolutionary War. Crane initially assumes that Abbie is a freed slave, but after a crash course in US history, comes to accept the cultural changes fairly well. Despite the potential for cross-generational discrimination across both racial and gendered lines, Crane values Abbie as a colleague from the very beginning. Of course, it’s questionable how realistic this adjustment is for someone of Crane’s era, pro-abolitionist or otherwise. Regardless, you can’t argue that the immediately established mutual respect isn’t refreshing. By sweeping the time skip under the rug in their relationship, both characters avoid being bogged down in politics. Crane and Abbie depend on each other to defend Sleepy Hollow from a host of ghoulish monsters in a series that merges elements of fantasy, drama, and buddy cop sitcom.

Abbie is allowed to be her own person with her own strengths and flaws. She cares about Crane, but she doesn’t exist to prop him up. They are each other’s intellectual equals who rise and fall together, but they can and do frequently separate on their own adventures. Abbie also has an interesting character foil in her estranged sister Jenny (Lyndie Greenwood). The two girls were orphans in the foster system. One day, they were attacked by a monster in the woods. Abbie encourages Jenny to lie about what they saw, claiming to police that she couldn’t remember anything. Jenny tries to tell the truth and is consequently declared clinically insane and thrown in a mental hospital, while Abbie walks away unscathed before being taken under the wing of a (white male) police officer determined to keep her on the right track. The concept of the white savior certainly comes into play here. Why do white people get to determine who is worthy of redemption and who isn’t when it comes to troubled youth of color? Abbie struggles with her conscience and her position of privileged authority due to the fact that she indirectly caused her sister to rot away in an institution for being honest, which is a rather blunt commentary on the apathy of the state to the plight of the individual. It turns out that the cop had been helping both sisters in secret. Jenny is also 110% BAMF. She, Crane, and Abbie are the Holy Trinity of this show.

Katrina Crane: "No, I really am just a plot device!" — Katrina Crane: “No, I really am just a plot device!”

Don’t forget, we have to find a way to shoehorn white femininity in there somehow! Crane’s wife Katrina (Katia Winter) is a witch condemned to purgatory as punishment for casting the resurrection spell over Crane. I don’t know if it’s supposed to be a commentary on her power or lack thereof, but it’s definitely an odd narrative choice. She’s allegedly one of the main characters, so it’s weird that the others can only interact with her via dreams or near-death experiences. Additionally, it disconcerts me that Crane’s romance feels like a forced, clunky afterthought to the main action. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big proponent of prioritizing pretty much anything else over a love interest, but if you’re going to keep throwing it at the audience, at least make it convincing or enjoyable. Katrina seems to only exist to shout ominous prophecies at Crane before he regains consciousness. Without spoiling too much, the writers have gussied her up with some plot anvils to force viewers to remain invested in her. I’m not feeling it. She sits in the woods with a smoke machine while Crane runs around yelling her name and sweating. I don’t care and no amount of sudden revelations will make me care. Katrina is embarrassingly extraneous to the action.

Katrina’s absence leaves Abbie to share most of Crane’s emotionally intense moments. Katrina may be influencing things from afar, but the show makes it clear that Abbie is Crane’s true support system and partner. That’s probably the biggest difference between the two women. Katrina sits on the sidelines and Abbie gets shit done. Stereotypical idealized white femininity is delicate and dependent, with some subtle manipulation sometimes thrown in to avoid total passive sexism. In Sleepy Hollow, these traits appear to hinder her appeal instead of amplifying it. Rather than enhancing her enigma or desirability, the essential “whiteness” of Katrina’s characterization renders her a one-dimensional paper doll in a cast of charismatic heavyweights. I can’t complain too much in the end though, because she makes it possible for Abbie and Crane’s relationship to grow outside of the obligatory sexual tension.

With that said, Ichabod and Abbie (dubbed “Ichabbie”) have a sizable fan base that wants them together romantically. I’m torn – on one hand, I think it’s good to have models of strong male/female friendships where their development isn’t measured by whether or not they became a couple. On the other, Katrina has the personality of a shoebox and it’s becoming increasingly difficult not to read subtext into Abbie and Crane’s phenomenal chemistry. At least at this point, they can grow together independently of the romantic question. If the writers do decide to pursue that route, I hope it’s just a spontaneous move and not drawn out for the angst milking. Regardless of who Crane ends up with, I want Katrina to die or preferably turn out evil. Nothing against the actress, but I need her to stop pointlessly wasting screentime.

But wait, it gets even better! Amandla Stenberg (aka Rue from The Hunger Games) plays the police captain’s recently disabled daughter, Macey. Triple representation, fuck yeah! (Apart from the actress not being disabled in reality, but I guess we have to pick our battles.) She’s cute, sarcastic, and sassy. The writers seem to be veering towards the “having a disabled child destroyed my family and could ruin my life” angle for the captain, so fingers crossed that they’ll avoid that stereotype clusterfuck, especially given that they’ve resisted most other cliches. I’m cautiously optimistic.

To sum up, you should all be watching Sleepy Hollow.

‘Sleepy Hollow’s Abbie Mills: a New and Improved Scully

I fell for Sleepy Hollow hard and fast, despite having little confidence in its actual quality or prospects of maintaining its storytelling momentum going forward. I am an easy mark for this show: The X-Files was my first favorite tv show (not counting Fraggle Rock and She-Ra, I guess), so a supernatural drama about a misfit obsessive man and his practical partner somewhat reluctantly along for the ride is catnip to me. But even I realize Sleepy Hollow could easily collapse under the weight of its own ridiculousness, what with the reanimated Revolutionary War soldier chatting with his dead witch wife across the veil and fighting demons and attempting to prevent the apocalypse (the Headless Horseman is actually DEATH, rider of a pale horse). Thankfully, Nicole Beharie as Abbie Mills is there to ground this in reality.

Nicole-Beharie-of-Sleepy-Hollow — Nicole Beharie as Abbie Mills in *Sleepy Hollow*

I fell for Sleepy Hollow hard and fast, despite having little confidence in its actual quality or prospects of maintaining its storytelling momentum going forward. I am an easy mark for this show: The X-Files was my first favorite tv show (not counting Fraggle Rock and She-Ra, I guess), so a supernatural drama about a misfit obsessive man and his practical partner somewhat reluctantly along for the ride is catnip to me. But even I realize Sleepy Hollow could easily collapse under the weight of its own ridiculousness, what with the reanimated Revolutionary War soldier chatting with his dead witch wife across the veil and fighting demons and attempting to prevent the apocalypse (the Headless Horseman is actually DEATH, rider of a pale horse). Thankfully, Nicole Beharie as Abbie Mills is there to ground this in reality.

While Lt. Abbie Mills is clearly “the Scully” (she’s even a foot shorter than her co-star Tom Mison, resulting in many an arched-neck conversation), Sleepy Hollow makes some beneficial adjustments to the archetype. First: Abbie is the one with the Mulder-esque childhood trauma related to the overarching mystery. And while Abbie was in denial about her bizarre experiences most of her life, even refusing to corroborate her institutionalized sister Jenny’s honest account of the events, she’s not pigeonholed as being “the skeptic” despite seeing paranormal occurrences with her own eyes. We’re seeing Abbie come to accept that the impossible happens and that she has a vital role in it, but with a healthy dose of “REALLY?” and “WHY ME?” tossed in to counter Ichabod Crane’s obsessive mission-focus.

729sleepy-620x349 — Abbie Mills and Ichabod Crane in *Sleepy Hollow*

Abbie is by far the most-realized character after these first few episodes. And Nicole Beharie’s performance deserves much of the credit. She sells the contradictions inherit in a practical, no-nonsense police officer who nevertheless accepts an undead relic from the 18th century who calls her “Leff-tenant” and won’t change out of his colonial clothes as her new partner. Beharie has the charisma that makes you want to root for Abbie even though she’s done bad things, like abandon her sister or spell her name with an “i-e” instead of a “y.” And her smile is a ray of sunshine reflected in a newborn baby’s eye and voice is the sound that angel’s tears make when they fall on rose petals. (In case you haven’t noticed, I kind of have a crush on Nicole Beharie.)

Seeing a great female character emerge on a new TV show is always a thrill, but it’s extra wonderful to have another woman of color as a complex lead character on a successful series. Nicole Beharie, to her credit, has been vocal about the significance of her casting. She told Essence:

“I’m 5’1’’ and an African American woman. I just didn’t think anyone would hire me to play the cop. There’s a certain demographic of girls who look the same in every action piece and I didn’t think that that was going to be me. I’ve always been a big sci-fi person. I love fantasy, so when the opportunity presented itself I wanted to take a shot at this. Getting to hold a gun and running away from witches and incantations… I keep hearing some people saying like ‘Yes, you’re the Black person who doesn’t die.’”

Even better, Beharie isn’t the only person of color in a sea of whiteness on Sleepy Hollow. Orlando Jones, having apparently paid his debt to society for appearing in all those Make 7 Up Yours commercials back in the early aughts, plays Abbie’s new boss; Nicholas Gonzales plays Abbie’s coworker and former flame, and John Cho has a recurring role as another undead pawn in the apocalypse saga. And of course Abbie’s sister Jenny Mills, played by Lyndie Greenwood, is emerging as one of the most interesting side characters, a Sarah Connor-esque figure committed to affirming the unbelievable truth that’s had her labelled insane for most of her life.

Sleepy Hollow may end up being another preposterous supernatural melodrama I have to be embarrassed about obsessing over, but Nicole Beharie as Abbie Mills gives me hope the series could turn out respectable quality product. Or at least launch Beharie to superstardom. She deserves it.

Biopic and Documentary Week: American Violet

This piece on American Violet, by Amber Leab, originally appeared at Bitch Flicks on April 5, 2010.

American Violet (2008)

American Violet tells the true story of an African-American mother of four girls arrested and falsely accused of selling crack cocaine. Set in a fictional Texas town with the 2000 presidential election as a fitting backdrop of confusion and corruption, we see Dee Roberts fight–with the help of ACLU lawyers–to clear her name and the names of other innocent people arrested in a broad sweep that day.

Newcomer Nicole Beharie gives a powerful performance as Dee, and the supporting cast, including Alfre Woodard as Dee’s mother, and Tim Blake Nelson and Malcolm Barrett as lawyers for the ACLU, do an equally good job.

It’s impossible to not love Dee–a beautiful woman, a kind and patient mother, a hard worker, and a caring friend. Her temper gets the best of her once in the film, but she’s protecting her children from their alcoholic father and his accused child molester girlfriend, and can hardly be faulted for it. I’m inclined to think the movie tries too hard to make her character likable. In contrast, Dee’s friend and neighbor Gladys–who is not a conventionally attractive woman, and does not have four adorable children trailing her–is a compelling and empathetic character, but the film completely drops the ball, even failing to credit the actor who plays her. Gladys is Dee’s inspiration for continuing to fight the DA even after her charges are dropped (because Gladys took a plea deal, while Dee would not), but we don’t get to explore Gladys or her situation. I’m curious as to why she’s part of the story, but not really allowed to be a character in the film. While the movie is about Dee, I would’ve liked to get to know Gladys a bit.

Click here to read the full piece on American Violet.

Movie Review: American Violet

American Violet is a small victory of a movie.

American Violet tells the true story of an African American mother of four girls arrested and falsely accused of selling crack cocaine. Set in a fictional Texas town with the 2000 presidential election as a fitting backdrop of confusion and corruption, we see Dee Roberts fight–with the help of ACLU lawyers–to clear her name and the names of other innocent people arrested in a broad sweep that day.

The film treats Dee with respect. We learn that her four children have three different fathers, but her private life is mostly kept private. When the DA questions Dee about “how many men she’s had sex with by the age of 24,” her lawyers quickly step in to remind them–and us–that a woman’s character is not to be judged by her sexual history. This was a refreshing moment in the film, when even in so-called women’s films, slut-shaming is regular and almost perfunctory. In another moment of the film, we see testimony from the DA’s ex-wife and daughter, and it’s the daughter’s mocking of her own father’s (racist) slut-shaming that ultimately brings him down. (An ironic and uncomfortable twist is that while Dee’s private life is off limits, the DA’s private life is the strongest testimony against him.)

American Violet is the kind of movie I don’t like to criticize, because it’s a movie interested in Doing Good. It’s a sincere film, it addresses real-life social problems, it has a heroine we root for and get to see achieve a victory, despite the odds. And, it’s enjoyable to watch. Doing Good movies rarely achieve blockbuster status; they typically don’t have large budgets, stars, or major marketing campaigns. Doing Good movies are the kinds of movies we wish the public, at large, would see. However, films that expose social ills tend to suffer from cliched characters, predictable narratives, and overly simplified stories. American Violet–despite its powerful performances—doesn’t escape these problems.

There are a couple of troubling things about the film. First, its creators have a background in documentary filmmaking, and their dramatic attempts were stilted (I’ll expound upon this point in the following paragraphs). Second, while I appreciate the surprise change of direction in the film–criminal charges against Dee are dropped, and the dramatic focus becomes her lawsuit against the racist DA–attacking a single DA for racism leaves the system intact. Yes, I realize this was a true story, but the filmmakers’ choice to dramatize this specific case–reportedly after they heard the story on NPR–feels a bit suspect to me. Texas law was changed as a result of Dee’s case (previously, a tip from a single informant was enough for an arrest), but the system itself seemed enforced; the “one bad apple”–the racist DA–abused the law, and was reprimanded. However, the DA remained in his position and was re-elected by voters who, in this district, weren’t particularly bothered by his racially-motivated policies. There was a real sense of ambivalence in Dee’s victory–a monetary settlement for her and the others wrongly accused, and a personal victory, but barely a scratch on the system. Perhaps the film’s inability to create great drama reflects our society’s inability to really change the system. We want the system to change. But the best we can get–in film or life–are small (yet not insignificant) steps in the right direction.

In light of the Senate’s recently passed legislation to reduce, not rectify, the mandatory minimum sentencing discrepancy for crack cocaine possession, we see a drug policy that is racist to the core. In the United States, possession of five grams of crack cocaine carries a mandatory minimum prison sentence of five years, while it takes 100 grams of powder cocaine to trigger the same sentence. According to the NAACP,

Everyone seems to agree that crack cocaine use is higher among Caucasians than any other group: most authorities estimate that more than 66% of those who use crack cocaine are white. Yet in 2006, 82% of those convicted and sentenced under federal crack cocaine laws were African American. When you add in Hispanics, the percentage climbs to above 96%. Since enactment of this law, the 100 to 1 ratio has had a devastating and disproportionate impact on the African American and Hispanic communities.

The mandatory minimum sentencing law was enacted in 1986 under false beliefs about crack cocaine, and its results have been devastating. Instead of equalizing the penalty, however, the Senate agreed to make it less worse: reduce the discrepancy from 100:1 to 18:1.

The facts about US sentencing laws are a bit beside the point in relation to American Violet; in the case of the film, the women we focus on are innocent. Police found no drugs or evidence of drug possession, distribution, or use. The filmmakers’ true interests here were legal in nature, though, and the characters in the film felt, at times, like tools for exploring the law. The specific laws on trial in the film are the now-defunct Texas single-informant law, the Clinton-era financial incentive to law enforcement agencies based on the number of drug convictions per county, and the rules surrounding and use of the plea bargain. While in jail, Dee learns that she can take a plea bargain to have her sentence suspended and return home to her children, or she can fight the allegations with her court-appointed attorney–who essentially tells her she’d be crazy not to take the plea. Before seeing this film, I never really thought about plea bargains–who cuts these deals and who ultimately benefits from them. In films we typically see the plea bargain used by people guilty of a crime to bring down the more-guilty parties involved. The issue felt like a minor point in the film, but in the end we see how invested in exposing the corrupt nature of the plea bargain the film really is. Ninety percent of the US prison population accepted a plea bargain, 95% never saw a jury, and the US has the world’s largest prison population. It’s a shame that the most shocking and dramatic moment of the film appeared in the end screen of statistics.

In this case, neither the DA nor the tactics really were impacted; what we get is Dee’s personal victory, which is still powerful and important. Not only was her arrest record expunged, but the other innocent people who were arrested with her also had their records expunged–meaning they could remain in their homes, apply for a job without fear of a background check, and not have to live with a false arrest haunting them.

Ultimately, I liked this film, and encourage others to see it. I do feel ambivalence about it, and am a little disappointed in some of the choices made, but do think it’s a strong, woman-centered film.

Watch a preview of American Violet and learn more about the film here. Leave your thoughts about the film–and any links to reviews or discussions you’ve read–in the comments.