This "Say it out it loud, I'm black and I'm proud" (a James Brown anthem) moment is an important one, both at large and for Beyoncé. Something like this is rarely done in pop, an arena primarily focused on messages that can be absorbed by the general populous for the sake of commerciality; a populous that just so happens to be predominately white. Beyoncé could have initiated a charge for more of this in the genre and a creative shift for herself, as this is her most blatantly socio-political statement. In an atmosphere where racial tension and the challenging/questioning of blackness is back on front-page news, this kind of move to add to and further the discussion, and encourage pride in heritage is necessary and valued. That said, where "Formation" falls significantly short of its glory is in the most crucial place: the lyrics. Remove the aforementioned quote and all you have is overly-repetitious braggadocio that didn't require much brain-power to conceive and barely has anything to do with the point she was trying to convey. The song cannot stand on its own; the visuals did the heavy lifting. In music, visuals are meant to accentuate, not do all the speaking and work for you. If someone were to just read the lyrics or hear the track by itself (as some people I know did), the meaning could easily be lost in translation, defeating the entire purpose. Everyone knows that lyrics are the heartbeat of a piece; it's what stands no matter how or by whom a tune is delivered or performed. They're what's quoted and tattooed on bodies. Beyoncé took this powerful concept and rested it on ONE refrain; this occasion is too momentous to be effectuated in such a surface, half-done and lazy manner. Sam Cooke's "A Change is Gonna Come," Stevie Wonder's "Heaven Help Us All" and Nina Simone's "Young, Gifted and Black" (which all are still applicable today, unfortunately) are classic staples because they really tapped into the minority experience and the anguish of the period. Bey missed a 24-karat gold opportunity to give a millennial testimony; like, she could've actually talked about police brutality. She could've made it even more personal and addressed issues that have directly affected her, such as racial politics in the music industry or white feminism's ever-active attack on her and other black female icons. If we're going to "Say it Loud," let's really do it.
After "changing the world with that digital drop" by releasing her 5th LP BEYONCÈ out of nowhere in December 2013 and causing a frenzy, many wondered how pop priestess Beyoncè would follow up promotionally. The answer was simpler than imagined: put out a (presumed) 1st single and video spontaneously. On the eve of her Superbowl 50 appearance with Coldplay and Bruno Mars, came "Formation" (February 6). There is much to be praised and there's much to be disappointed by. "Formation" is delectably rich in black cultural symbols from the southern, New Orleans and LGBT communities, presenting them in an exalted space, as they should be. This is intertwined with references to some of the greatest post-2000 tragedies of the race, the Hurricane Katrina response and law enforcement violence. For example, voice-over audio from New Orleans social media figure Messy Mya (who was murdered in 2010) and bounce music originator Big Freedia is melded with images of a graffiti wall that reads "Stop Shooting Us," a black male child dancing in front of a cop-squad and Beyoncè laying atop a drowning police car. She proclaims "My daddy Alabama, mama Louisiana, you mix that Negro with that Creole-make[s] a Texas bamma, I like my baby['s] hair with baby hair and afros, I like my Negro nose with Jackson Five nostrils, earned all this money, but they never take the country out me; I got hot sauce in my bag, swag."
This "Say it out it loud, I'm black and I'm proud" (a James Brown anthem) moment is an important one, both at large and for Beyoncé. Something like this is rarely done in pop, an arena primarily focused on messages that can be absorbed by the general populous for the sake of commerciality; a populous that just so happens to be predominately white. Beyoncé could have initiated a charge for more of this in the genre and a creative shift for herself, as this is her most blatantly socio-political statement. In an atmosphere where racial tension and the challenging/questioning of blackness is back on front-page news, this kind of move to add to and further the discussion, and encourage pride in heritage is necessary and valued. That said, where "Formation" falls significantly short of its glory is in the most crucial place: the lyrics. Remove the aforementioned quote and all you have is overly-repetitious braggadocio that didn't require much brain-power to conceive and barely has anything to do with the point she was trying to convey. The song cannot stand on its own; the visuals did the heavy lifting. In music, visuals are meant to accentuate, not do all the speaking and work for you. If someone were to just read the lyrics or hear the track by itself (as some people I know did), the meaning could easily be lost in translation, defeating the entire purpose. Everyone knows that lyrics are the heartbeat of a piece; it's what stands no matter how or by whom a tune is delivered or performed. They're what's quoted and tattooed on bodies. Beyoncé took this powerful concept and rested it on ONE refrain; this occasion is too momentous to be effectuated in such a surface, half-done and lazy manner. Sam Cooke's "A Change is Gonna Come," Stevie Wonder's "Heaven Help Us All" and Nina Simone's "Young, Gifted and Black" (which all are still applicable today, unfortunately) are classic staples because they really tapped into the minority experience and the anguish of the period. Bey missed a 24-karat gold opportunity to give a millennial testimony; like, she could've actually talked about police brutality. She could've made it even more personal and addressed issues that have directly affected her, such as racial politics in the music industry or white feminism's ever-active attack on her and other black female icons. If we're going to "Say it Loud," let's really do it.
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Fox's new series Empire made such an ineffaceable impression with audiences that it was renewed for a 2nd season 10 days after its premiere in January, broke ratings records and had weekly increases in viewership. The hip-hop answer to ABC's Nashville, Empire follows rags-to-riches divorced duo Lucious and Cookie Lyon (portrayed by Oscar nominees Terrence Howard & Taraji P. Henson) as they maintain their record label and wrangle their 3 eccentric, rivaling sons who are set to inherit it all. The company was started with drug money acquired by Cookie, for which she went to prison for 17 years. With that as the backdrop, of course there's been murder and all kinds of (deliciously soapy) debauchery. If the cast were predominately white, there wouldn't be much of a fuss about the unsavory, but since they're black...under the minority media microscope they go. Racial minorities are still so stifled and underrepresented in mainstream television and film, that it's news to have a show like Empire (that also has a black director & co-creator) doing this well in primetime. Due to this issue, every program with a minority-preponderant cast (or even a lead like Scandal) that seeps through the cracks and soars has the responsibility of being a cultural envoy. The general feeling is if there are going to be few images of us, let those images be powerful, positive, truthful, propel our people forward and counter what those other people (i.e. racist whites) say we are. The thing is, opinions differ on what picture should step to the podium. For instance, The Cosby Show (1984-1992) uplifted many and broke the mold with its then-rare depiction of a united, middle-class black family, but was accused of avoiding candid discussions about race and not being relatable enough to the mass of broken and/or impoverished families. Despite assimilation being a focal point of Anthony Anderson's Black-ish, it's similarly charged with being sanitized, unrealistic and/or "white-washed." Conversely, Empire's been called stereotypical , "ghetto" and a disservice to the community, while supporters applaud its commentary on black familial taboos (ex. mental disorders & homosexuality) and are thrilled that characters from what's usually relegated as subversive counterculture are capturing America. When my father saw a trailer for Empire, he asked "Why does it have to be around the hip-hop industry? Why couldn't it be oil? That's [hip-hop] all black folks know how to do." What?! 1st of all, oil's already been done with Dallas. 2nd, when have you seen a hip-hop drama? 3rd, you didn't say "that's all white folks know how to do" when the country-centralized Nashville (a show he loves, by the way) premiered. I've heard and read other comments and questions like "Why did the Lyons have to come from the streets?," "Why does Cookie have to be so unrefined?," "Black-ish is too white," "Empire's a poisonous bad example," "There aren't enough series like Black-ish" and "There aren't enough series like Empire." Ugh! Why do we have to be so all-or-nothing, one-or-the-other with our media?! You want truthful portrayals? Well, the truth is that there are thousands of black families (and many a rap mogul) from low-income neighborhoods that have engaged in criminal activity to attain resources for survival, but there are also many who live in suburbia. There are women like Clair Huxtable (The Cosby Show) and women like Cookie Lyon. I don't see why they can't co-exist on television like they do in real life. In my opinion, what's in the best interest of our culture as it relates to entertainment is to not operate in extremes. One of the multiple reasons it was (and is) so important to us to be onscreen, behind-the-camera and level the playing field in Hollywood is so we can display our talent, tell our stories and show who we really are, so let's create and accept broader characterizations and castings that reflect the vast collection of experiences, shapes, sizes and colors we have. No part of our kinship should be denied from seeing themselves on television; there's enough of that going around without us perpetuating it. Not only is variety more accurate to life, but it facilitates in contesting stereotypes and can demonstrate to our community that they can be flexible and that life isn't a stringent caste-system. There needs to be a balance. For every Clair, let there be a Cookie, and for every Clair and Cookie, let there be a Hannah Montana, "best of both worlds" persona or someone altogether different (ex. Annaliese Keating of How to Get Away with Murder). WARNING: This review contains SPOILERS. I finally saw it! Don’t side-eye me too hard. For 3 years, actor-couple Will and Jada Pinkett-Smith worked to get a film redux of the Broadway adaption of Annie off the ground, starring their only daughter, Willow. The concept of a modern version with a racial-minority in the lead was an exciting prospect. As time passed, there were reports and speculation of this and that person being involved but dropping out, including Glee’s Ryan Murphy (who was said to direct; Will Gluck eventually got the job) and Oscar-winner Emma Thompson for screen-writing. Then, the film lost its principal actress, presumably because she aged out, but a little gem named Quvenzhane` Wallis who came out of nowhere and swept Hollywood off its feet with her debut in the critically-acclaimed Beasts of the Southern Wild saved the day and stepped in. Now that the movie was finally released, how did it measure up? For those curious about what kind of effect a contemporary setting would have on this classic, they can rest assured it wasn’t negative. In fact, new-age symbols and attitude are used in a memorable and entertaining way that help this version stand-out on its own, particularly in the climax. For example, Ms. Hannigan (Cameron Diaz) is forever jaded that she was kicked out of 90’s dance group C+C Music Factory and a few times in the dialogue the characters make fun of how they keep randomly bursting into song. Part of the cool twist in the conclusion is how, thanks to people being over-sharers and listing their location on social media, Annie is successfully rescued from her captors (how she’s kidnapped is quite different). If there is any disappointment about the present-day application, it will be that there is little cultural or historical commentary. Annie is based on the 1920’s comic strip Little Orphan Annie, which attracted adults with its remarks on President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal and other political complexities. This was carried on into the Broadway play and the original 1982 film. Wallis’ Annie does a book report on Roosevelt and takes a sarcastic shot at economic inequality, but that’s about it. Other notations don’t come through her and are more subtle, such as the out-of-touch Will Stacks (Jamie Foxx’s translation of Daddy Warbucks) running for mayor with ill-motives. Musical theater fans might be disenchanted along with junkies for Annie historical references, as a few numbers were cut (I thought this was a plus; there is such a thing as too many) and the remaining sounded like deflated *Simon Cowell voice* karaoke recreations. In all fairness to any deficiencies in vocal performance, Foxx and Tony-winner Bobby Cannavale (who portrays Stacks’ campaign manager) were the only cast-members who sing by trade. Between this film being an update, Smith’s past in music and rapper/entrepreneur Jay-Z (who famously sampled “Hard Knock Life” for a song of the same title) being an executive producer and once rumored to be the soundtrack’s musical supervisor, I just knew the music would be invigoratingly hip and fetching, but…no. They played it safe; any percussion was extremely light and almost fearful of being ‘too urban.’ Greg Kurstin and “Chandelier” singer Sia wrote 3 new songs for the movie; the best of these was “Who Am I?,” which connected the arcs of Annie, Stacks and Hannigan. This reminds me…where numbers were cut, character and plot development filled. In the previous edition, you don’t see, among other things, why Daddy Warbucks needs a public relations tune-up, why he’s so influential that he needs to be concerned with that and why he’s invested in Annie (he seems to take a liking to her because his staff tells him to). Gluck (and co-writer Aline Brosh McKenna) answered these types of questions and took time to build relationships, sizably increasing the ‘pull-on-your-heartstrings’ factor. This Annie has a greater bond with her absentee parents, visiting their last known location weekly, hoping she’ll know them by instinct. Backstories are added to give context for character behavior and the romantic interest between Stacks and his assistant Grace (although their connection is still contrived). We even get to watch Ms. Hannigan (whose 1st name has been changed to Colleen) gradually soften, instead of suddenly gain moral fiber and affection for Annie. There’s also more room to get attached to the other children in the story, with discussion about adoption issues and the large orphanage being changed to a foster home with 5 girls. With all these details, it’s odd that the film opens the door for attention to be lost with a slowing pace in the middle. The endearing amiability is accentuated by the simply terrific Wallis, who delivers with upmost sincerity like an old pro. As she should, she embodies the spirit of both the brand and figure of Annie, a charming a child whose wisdom and adaptability comes from hardships she shouldn’t have endured, but exudes resolute optimism. Wallis was irresistible and too adorable to function. I’m sure Willow Smith would’ve done well, but it’s hard to picture anyone else in Wallis’ space as much as she sold it. Just like seeing Brandy as Cinderella in 1997 eternally inspired me as a black female child, I’m sure Wallis will have the same effect on her generation. As Stacks’ icy disposition warms, the usually stellar Foxx doesn’t catch up and is a little constipated. Diaz fits right into Ms. Hannigan’s shoes, disproving those, like myself, who were unsure if she was the right choice. Damages actress Rose Byrne is rosey as Grace and Cannavale has no trouble bringing the hyper and comedic, but shady, Guy to life. Annie 2014 may have its pitfalls, but its heart and shining star are golden and it will be a nice addition to your collection of kid’s movies if you have munchkins. Not be all PSA-like, but if you’re thinking about starting a family, please consider adoption. Stereotypes about orphans and/or foster children being naturally problematic are false. They’re no more likely to be rebellious, disobedient or violent than biological children are everyday. Please turn around and go back to for these children left behind. My latest videoblog about the entertainment industry and its impact on our society. "How Do You Know When You're in Love?" Film Project: facebook.com/lovefilmproject |
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