Making Magic in the Descendants Series
Did you know that Disney heroes and villains have kids? Check out the Descendants series.
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Zola as an experience was very consecutive for me. I saw both the trailer and poster two days before it released, and being anxious to throw myself into a theater, I was more than on board.
I sat down for the hour and a half, came home, and at first gave a resounding:
As days went on, the film continued to flash past my mind, each time leaving me with a different piece of a larger viewpoint. It took me a few days to fully sit with the many intersections being touched both on and off-screen and the many things that are said in this short runtime. Now, being on the other side of this deliberation, I not only find the movie to be a super fun time, but also a glimpse to the possible future of modern black parables.
(Note: This article was originally publiched by Mick Cohen-Carroll on Medium in June 2020. For current information about the state of the racial justice movement in America, I recommend reading updates about Derek Chauvin's trial, this interview with Kentucky's Rep. Attica Scott about the ongoing imapct of Breonna Taylor's murder, this update about the shooting of Jacob Blake, and this analysis of the scope of Black Lives Matter protests.)
Hollywood loves to jump on current events, especially those with big socio-political ramifications. There have been timely movies about pretty much every news-worthy incident since WWI. However, stories about race or racial injustice are often eclipsed or buried under other tragic events. So, through the films they produce and finance, how will Hollywood react to the current status quo? It’d be interesting to discover their approach in the wake of the George Floyd protests (which are largely peaceful) and the call to action for anti-racism. There are two things to consider. The first is that Hollywood, after all, is a business and the second is that Hollywood might not be as socially liberal as the right-wing claims.
Though there is room for art, and you must be creative to make a film, the movie industry is, after all, just that: an industry. And in an industry, the primary goal is to make money. If it’s art, great, but that is not the end goal. Artistry is the byproduct. That is why people like Martin Scorsese call the Marvel movies “theme parks” and not cinema. He makes the distinction that cinema is (by his definition) more daring, unexpected, honest and artistic.
So while “cinema” (used in the Scorsesian sense) does exist, the rise in blockbuster movies with high budgets and explosively high box office returns shows that Hollywood is primarily interested in making money. That is why it attracts people to become top execs and producers, like Steve Mnuchin, the current Secretary of the Treasury. Hard to believe that the ex-Goldman Sachs investment banker was in it for the art or the love of cinema.
Based on the best-selling novel by Angie Thomas, the title of both the film and novel finds it’s roots in late recording artist, Tupac Shakur. According to Shakur, THUG LIFE was actually an acronym standing for ‘The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everyone’.
Starr Carter (played by Amandla Stenberg of “The Hunger Games”) has trouble separating her predominately Black community, Garden Heights and her predominately white school, Williamson Prep. Starr often feels torn between the two worlds. Starr frequently changes up her pattern of speech, and behavior patterns to blend in with the appropriate environment. After the shooting and death of her childhood friend Khalil (a Black male) at the hands of a white cop, Starr is hesitant to open up about the murder — afraid that her white friends, Hailey and Maya, and white boyfriend, Chris, are not going to empathize with issues that affect the black community such as this one. Starr believes that she is too much of an outsider to discuss the tragedy with her school peers, as well as within her community.
Personally, the film stole my heart upon a single viewing. It is a poignant, strongly written narrative I can identify with, and as far as I know — this is the first motion picture the country has seen of this caliber since 1991’s fan favorite “Boyz n the Hood” directed by the late John Singleton. This film isn’t one told from a shallow perspective; I feel that Angie Thomas, the creator of the novel on which the film is based comprehends the baffling actuality that resolving many of the world’s horrific issues wouldn’t be an easy task. The psyches of non-minority individuals who aren’t being influenced would definitely take more time to understand it.
As a man of color myself, I respect the manner in which the film utilizes the story and character portrayals to talk about the way society uses stereotypes of Black people to justify violence and racism against them. These generalizations give white communities a warped sense of security. For example, the student body at Starr’s school, Williamson Prep, from reflecting upon fundamental prejudice, which propagates separation. We see this partiality by the way the cop dubbed “One-Fifteen” tries to justify killing Khalil. One-Fifteen has no motivation to believe Khalil’s hairbrush is really a weapon other than One-Fifteen’s assumption that Khalil is vicious on the grounds that he is African-American. Notwithstanding, the news media and many white characters support One-Fifteen’s rendition of events believing that he was simply fulfilling his job requirements as a law enforcement officer. Carlos, Starr’s black uncle who is also a police officer, at first tries to rationalize One-Fifteen’s actions before ultimately acknowledging that he wrongly attempted to legitimize the shooting of Khalil. The media attempts to mask the prejudice in One-Fifteen’s activities by depicting them as intelligent and thus supported. For instance, news inclusion accentuates Khalil’s supposed gang associations, sustaining generalizations of Black young men as rough and perilous. After hearing these reports, Hailey — Starr’s Williamson Prep companion, reasons that Khalil was just a hooligan. The media frenzy encompassing Khalil’s demise shows how white media operates ensuring law authorization and propagating generalizations over Black lives.
After years of being ignored, shut down, or shifted around, I think we’re finally getting somewhere with black cinema getting its due. I think it is finally at the point where mainstream audiences will just watch a movie for black audiences and not have it feel forced or empty. It’s not at the level it needs to be at just yet, but I do think it is getting traction. Not counting the Oscars (especially after seeing Green Book win last year), I think that black cinema is making waves with the general population, and that excites me, because that can break up the formulaic and problematic amount of films that reach audiences and can open up the door for other minorities to start appearing in film more now that it’s proving that movies with diversity CAN reach people of all backgrounds despite their intended audience. I think since 2016, there has been a stream of successful (and now iconic) movies by black artists, for black audiences, with general appeal. Moonlight, Fences, Get Out, Us, Blackkklansman, Blindspotting, If Beale Street Could Talk, Sorry to Bother You, The Hate U Give, and Black Panther are just a few of the plethora that come to mind, and all are great or excellent movies. It’s a far cry from times like 2004 where the most notable black led movies were Hotel Rwanda (white director) and White Chicks (infamously bad).
So, how does Queen & Slim hold up in this black film-making start of a renaissance? It’s…OK. And I’m not gonna lie: I am highly disappointed that it’s just OK, because this was one of the most anticipated films of the year for me, and for good reason. For starters, the premise is the best kind of hook you could ask for: A black man shoots a white police officer in self defense while on a Tinder date. He and the date go on the run. That’s an amazing idea to film a movie around. Likewise, it is the directorial debut of double Grammy winner Melina Matsoukas, who is best known for her fantastic music videos. And on top of that, Daniel Kaluuya, one of my up and coming favorite new actors, was one of the stars. And yes, I was somewhat right. The premise was intriguing. The direction was nice. The acting was great. But I forgot the cardinal virtue of good cinema: a solid script.
Spoilers going forward from here. You don’t want them, jump to the final paragraph.
Unfortunately, Queen & Slim is a very sloppy movie, and that is owed to the writing. It is, simply put, underwhelming. Very likely because it’s not offering anything new and refreshing to witness. And I think the film is self aware of that, and overcompensates by trying to put in extra effort to look iconic. That photo I posted above is the movie’s moment of saying “Hey, this is a cool shot, right?!” and it’s also the final shot in the movie. There is a line in this movie (and it’s trailer) comparing Queen and Slim’s run from the law as the “Black Bonnie and Clyde”. Well, not really. Because Queen and Slim shoot an officer in self-defense, run off, live “free”, and most notably, die as martyrs, rather than as be rebellious or controversial cop killers. I think Queen & Slim actually could have benefited from being more ballsy and just having the duo take down cops all on their way to escape. But instead they’re just a bit too nice and charismatic, and when their getaway falls apart, it turns into another black pain movie that we’ve seen far too many times for it to carry the same weight. The writing is never sure if it wants to be an iconic drama or a dark comedy, and it dives into fantastical and surreal situations but never runs all the way with them. I want to like this movie so much more than I do, but it constantly gets in its own way with its clumsiness or pretentiousness. It has something to say, especially in the United States in 2019, but it appears to be so angry it can’t form a cohesive argument. It reminds me of this year’s Us, which I loved, but struggled to fully comprehend the message of. But I could at least get the gist of Us, and I had a lot of fun watching it. In the meanwhile, I walked away from Queen & Slim being more confused than impressed, and more thoughtful on my feelings towards it than the message it tried to deliver.
The two writers for Queen & Slim were Lena Waithe, who co-wrote the Emmy-winning Master of None “Thanksgiving” episode, a fantastic piece of television. When writing Queen & Slim, Waithe was working on a story she conceived with none other than James Frey, best known for his writing scandal rather than his actual work now. For those that are unaware, he infamously fabricated some of his writing and passed it off as auto-biographical, and told Larry King he embellished a few details…but when he saw Oprah, he cracked and said he flat out lied. So it makes sense that a fresh/talented writer and somewhat (?) talented author guilty of literary forgery did not make the best duo for writing a screenplay for a debut director. Each scene in Queen & Slim feels more like its own scene in another movie and while the scenes are decently engaging, the overall product of all the scenes put together is a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster.
Raised in a poverty-stricken slum, a 16-year-old girl named Starr now attends a suburban prep school. After she witnesses a police officer shoot her unarmed best friend, she's torn between her two very different worlds as she tries to speak her truth.
George Tillman Jr.
Director
George Tillman Jr.
Director
Amandla Stenberg
Starr Carter
Regina Hall
Lisa Carter
Russell Hornsby
Maverick Carter
K.J. Apa
Chris Bryant
Common
Uncle Carlos
Anthony Mackie
King
Algee Smith
Khalil Harris
Lamar Johnson
Seven Carter
Issa Rae
April Ofrah
Sabrina Carpenter
Hailey Grant
TJ Wright
Sekani Carter
Did you know that Disney heroes and villains have kids? Check out the Descendants series.
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