Tuesday, February 15, 2011

The Fuck?

Mummy is on the rag, out of pot and mad as a hatter so somebody better place a shiny fucking apple on my desk while you suffer through this lecture. I'm am filled with piss and vinegar.
(*cue Darth Vader music)
Be seated class.

Class, what are the dirtiest words in the English language? Anyone?  Give a try. Shout 'em out. The nword? Cunt? Slave? Glenn Beck? Oh come on people those are easy guesses.  What are some of the most despicable,vile, mean, detestable words you can think of? Well here are two words on my list: Film & Television.  Two words that once brought me joy, now chaff my labia. American Film. American Television.  Dirty words that make my vagina boil like soup in a cauldron.

Why is teacher so angry? Because of an award winning film called Brotherhood. A film I just walked out on. I sat in the Laemmle Theatre watching this indie flick, and  5 minutes into it,  I prayed for an earthquake. I wanted the earth to rumble so that we could flee the theatre like roaches when the lights are flick on. I wanted chunks of plaster to conk us in the head.  I even prayed that Carrie would hop her bloody hog covered ass on stage, and make us all pay.  Apparently the gods were too busy to kill a theatre full of patrons, so I prayed for an aneurysm to strike me. That didn't work either. Finally I resolved to singing Negro spirituals in hopes that the few other blacks in the audience would get the message. That it was time for a revolution. See during slave revolts back in the day, they would sing covertly to let one another know "We bout to tear the roof off this mothafucker.  Get your tom tom's ready cuz we bout to pull a Nat Turner on Hollywood." 

In a nutshell, it was a movie about a group of young white college frat boys who get into trouble when a prank goes wrong.  These dip shit pledges want to get into a fraternity and they have to commit armed robbery, ski mask and all at local convenience stores.  We find out of course, that it isn't really robbery. The weapon isn't loaded, and there's a guy (a senior frat dude) who will stop the pledge before entering the store.  Well guess what. One of the "robberies" go awry and a clerk (a black dude) ends up shooting one of the frat boys.  The frightened clerk who thinks he's being robbed, shoots up the store and doesn't kill anyone...but he seriously wounds a pledge.  One of the pledges recognize the clerk from high school, and he begs him not to call the police.  As a matter of fact, they beg him to tell the police that it was some black thugs who robbed the store, so that they wouldn't look for white frat guys. Who can guess what happens?  The clerk refuses, calls anyway--so the frat boys kidnap him. 

The white boys kidnap, the black clerk.  Like some goddamned slave catchers. 
You know, you have to have balls of a burglar to put some shit like that on a 30ft screen.

I can't even bother with describing the rest of the fucking film. I was so angry that I lost 30 minutes of my life, I wanted to hurl used tampons at the screen. Now I'll admit, there's a tiny part of me that feels bad for dogging out filmmakers--especially when they're indie filmmakers. But goddamnit the shit has got to stop.  I know some of you might be thinking "oh you should have watched the entire movie to see where it went".  Bullshit. There was not a single redemptive moment about that fucking movie.  Although I will say the guy playing Mike the clerk was quite good. And lo, the audience was loving! Totally engaged. I sat there with my girlfriends Angie and Laala(a filmmaker and an actor) and they too were gasping for air. They like me, near 'bout died.

I could go on citing other offenses of this flick, but it's pointless because I think class we all get the gist.  We've all had an experience like that in a movie where we wanted to hunt and skin the filmmakers. And it isn't just a Black thing.  If I believed the bullshit I see in movies I'd think fat girls don't get fucked (they do), black women have terrible attitudes (we mothafucking don't), and Latino men are all gardners (they are) I'm kidding.

Artists have the right to make and produce whatever they like.  As a playwright, I know my works aren't for everyone--hell this blog isn't for everyone...and that's fine.  But I do try my very best to give fair portrayals of all people. The playing field has become a minefield.  Hollywood, Broadway, Indie Flicks, Regional theatre all of it has become tainted with physiological fascism.  Lies are being shoved down our throats, and into our ears until we believe it's gospel.   I refuse to believe that all these mothafuckers running studios, are that myopic--that vapid..that fucking clueless. 

In the 70s Gil Scott said "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised."
Well class, I think this time...it must be.  I'm going to crawl into a bottle now.  For homework please draft manifestos against the fascists (whomever they may be for you), and we will reconvene class when my hangover passes.
But when you hear that spiritual being sung, look lively. It'll be time to go to battle.

Dismissed.

1 comment:

Tereneh Idia said...

Okay so now I need to go to the damn emergency room because my spleen or whatever just feel out I was laughing so damn hard.