African American Film and the Deserved "Happy Ending"
Angela Wallace's Independent Study
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Thesis
Is the Happy Ending the same in all African
American Films?
In this critical analysis project, I focus on the ways the "happy ending" is articulated in a series of African American films. In order to begin tackling this topic, it is crucial to properly define the "happy ending." This project relies on Laura Mulvey's interpretation of the "happy ending," which is mentioned in James MacDowell’s article, “Happy Endings in Hollywood Cinema: Cliche, Convention and the Final Couple." Mulvey claims, "'happy endings' become acceptable if they fail fully to resolve the earlier narrative issue, meaning we should instead focus on 'the amount of dust the story raises along the road'" (qtd. In MacDowell 6). With Mulvey's definition in mind, I chose to analyze African American movies that met the criteria for this unsettling ending that encourages the audience members to think about and engage with the social issues that arise throughout the films. These "false happy endings" may not, at first glance, appear to leave the viewer unsatisfied, which undermines Hollywood's cliche "happy ending," in which all issues are resolved. I push my readers to examine the coordinates that lead the film to the implausible happy ending in my selected films, as it is important to identify the pressing social issues the movies aim to navigate. What shapes a film to its conclusion? Is the happy ending earned? Is the happy ending the same in all African American films?
Watermelon Man
Melvin Van Peebles' 1970 Watermelon Man subverts Hollywood’s ideal happy ending, an ending that maintains white superiority over Black bodies. The film tells the story of Jeff Gerber, a white, middle-class man who wakes up one morning to discover he is Black. Following this revelation, he experiences racial discrimination, the loss of his family, and the loss of a comfortable, privileged life. In Racquel Gates’ article "Subverting Hollywood From the Inside Out: Melvin Van Peebles’s Watermelon Man," Gates mentions that the film is hailed as Van Peebles’ shift from Hollywood director (Columbia Studios) to an independent director. Van Peebles maneuvers through Columbia Studio's creative limitations, producing “a black-oriented film with progressive racial politics from within the Hollywood system” (Gates 11).
Van Peebles explores methods of changing the way African Americas are viewed in the mainstream Hollywood media, a tactic that paves way towards the film’s well-earned happy ending. The film’s ending depicts Gerber’s transformation from a white bigot to a Black revolutionary, which differed from Hollywood's desire to have Gerber wake up as a white man in the final scene. By avoiding Hollywood’s ending, Van Peebles awards the Black community the closure they need as an oppressed group in society. He gives them closure by successfully dismantling the notion that white is normative through the use of whiteface. His substitution of Columbia Studio's desired blackface for whiteface presents a parody of whiteness in American society. Godfrey Cambrigdge, the actor for Gerber, performs a “hyper-visible witness” in which he makes whiteness strange. When in whiteface, marked by its unnatural and disturbing appearance, Jeff Gerber's behaviors and mannerisms are hyperbolic, transforming him into a caricature. However, when he shifts into his natural form as a Black man, he becomes less of a caricature and his character becomes subtle and toned down (Gates 16). The social norms in which whiteness is ranked above blackness becomes inverted. Van Peebles’, who manages to single-handedly reject Hollywood’s acceptance of blackface as an accurate representation of the Black community, outstandingly shows his audience that Black is good.
Sweet Sweetback's Badass Song
Martin Van Peebles’ revolutionary, independently made 1971 film Sweet Sweetback’s Badass Song is hailed as the movie that birthed blaxploitation. In his article, “‘You Talkin’ Revolution’: On Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song and Revolutionary Filmmaking,” Benjamin Wiggins speaks on Van Peebles’ ability to allow the film to take on a radical form due to his autonomy as a filmmaker (Wiggins 29). Specifically, he “allowed the protagonist to undermine racial stereotypes through forms of signification rarely seen in mainstream pictures” (29). Van Peebles’ achieves this goal through muteness and movement. Van Peebles displays an immutable embodiment of blackness, which “affords him the opportunity to mutate the stereotypes that have constructed blackness” (29). By choosing to give his character only six lines of dialogue throughout the entire film, Van Peebles dissociates blackness from the singing and dancing of minstrelsy on stage (37). The black community, represented by Van Peebles’ character, becomes authentic and real, inspiring a new context for blackness. Silence allows Van Peebles’ to go against Hollywood’s image of the respectable and entertaining black-figure they will profit off of. The article compares Van Peebles’ character to Sydney Poitier, “the black lone star in Sweetback’s time," whose heavy dialogue, showing perfect diction, is the acceptable form of Blackness on screen because Hollywood can cleanse his mouth of Black empowerment sentiment. However, Van Peebles refuses to “open his lips for such scrubbing” (37).
Through his use of muteness and occupation of space through his smooth desert surroundings, Sweetback assumes a role that is solely reserved for white men according to Hollywood standards. This role is referred to as the western antihero, portrayed as the strong and silent type. Van Peebles’ character successfully resists stereotypes as his ambiguous, no-name, silent character is afforded the privilege of “indefinability” (38). He constructs a type of witness that is personified through the western antihero archetype, linking himself to white male masculinity while ensuring that the “anchors that typically ground blackness have few places to entrench themselves” (38). Sweetback achieves the happy ending not only through his escape from the white cops but also through his position as an ambiguous character, allowing for him to not be manipulated in a fashion that perpetuates stereotypes of blackness.
Dope
Rick Famuyiwa’s 2015 Dope stars Malcolm, a geeky, pop culture obsessed teenager navigating his senior year of high school in a rough part of Los Angeles. Famuyiwa leads his audience to a well-deserved “happy ending” by simultaneously mocking and subverting stereotypes while also bringing attention to their existence in society. In A.O Scott’s article, “Review: ‘Dope,’ a Teenage Comedy, Plays With Stereotypes,” it is mentioned that the film miraculously hails “defiant counterstereotypes” (Scott 2). Malcolm and his two best friends, Diggy and Jib, go against the stereotype of blackness being associated with inferiority and violence as individuals who get good grades at Inglewood and play in a punk band. In particular, Malcolm is a straight-A student with stellar SAT scores, marking him an eligible candidate for the Harvard admissions process in spite of his guidance counselor's hesitations. The storyline revolves around Malcolm involuntarily getting caught up with dangerous gangsters when he finds his bag with drugs and a handgun after leaving a birthday party. Malcolm assumes the role of the smart and witty trickster in order to ultimately survive the crime-riddled predicament that could lead him to jail and destroy his chance of applying to his dream school. The “hood” is populated with well-rounded characters who do not fit the “gangster and violent” mold that is typically associated with Black men.
In her L.A. Times article “The comedy-drama ‘Dope’ defies ‘black film’ expectations,” Lorraine Ali further explains Famuyiwas’s ability to subvert the viewer’s expectations of the Black community. She quotes Famuyiwa, stating, “You might go into 'Dope' feeling you already know what this movie is because, all right, there's kids, they're from Inglewood, oh, it's drugs" (Ali 3). However, it is the white kid from Brentwood who happens to be the drug dealer while the black kids from the ‘hood go to him for expertise. The film succeeds in showing how Malcolm and his friends “polish off all the hard edges’’ as kids with value and potential (especially when Malcolm gets into Harvard in spite of the societal odds that are against him). Dope was written around the time Trayvon Martin was killed, and given the political climate of the time, Famuyiwa sought to craft a film that would humanize Black people (specifically through Malcolm) as raw, emotional, multi-dimensional, and prone to making mistakes like any ordinary human being. Famuyiwa makes salient the plight of Black individuals to succeed in a world that deems them invaluable at birth, and as Malcolm escapes the violence in the ‘hood with his life intact, Famuyiwa succeeds in bringing to light the stereotypes that block the Black community’s path towards success.
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The Best Man
The 1999 film The Best Man, directed by Malcolm D. Lee, earns its happy ending by revealing the complexity of Black love and success, specifically through Nia Long’s character, Jordan. The film centers around Harper, a rising author who is about to release his debut novel, and his reunion with friends from college. In Rashad Grove’s article titled, “'The Best Man': What It Got Right (And Wrong) About Black Love,” Grove discusses the film's emphasis on hard-working Black people hoping to succeed in their occupation and how it impacts their romantic relationships. Black success is displayed on screen when considering Harper as an up-and-coming author, Lance as a famous, professional football player, and Jordan, a hard worker who is described as more driven and successful than Harper. Despite the occupational success, the romantic relationships for these individuals are fragile.
Harper resists showing interest in his current girlfriend, Robyn, while also hesitating to pursue relations with Jordan, his former love interest. Additionally, Lance debates calling off his wedding with Mia after discovering her sexual encounters with Harper in college. Nevertheless, the romantic relationships are resolved by the end of the film; however, Jordan is left single. In analyzing the happy ending, it appears a though Jordan gives into the trope of the “professional, independent, and driven Black women who often suffer in the marketplace of love” (Grove 6). Society expects Jordan to downsize herself to fit into a relationship “with a man [Harper] with a small ego and narrow perspective” (Grove 10). However, Jordan encourages Harper to pursue a better relationship with his girlfriend, thereby enabling herself to find a relationship with a man who is ready to be emotionally invested in her. The film achieves its happy ending by revealing the expectations of successful Black women to lessen their worth in order to pursue a man. Despite this constraining expectation, Jordan stays true to herself and owns her independence.
Dual Film Analysis: Pariah and Soul Food
Dee Rees’ 2011 Pariah and George Tillman Jr.’s 1997 Soul Food are films that earn the happy ending through different modes of liberation. The liberation in Pariah is achieved through separation from family while the resolution in Soul Food centers around the unity of a broken family. In her article “Unpacking Pariah: Maternal Figuration, Erotic Articulation, and the Black Queer Liberation Plot,” Shoniqua Roach acknowledges that the film is hailed for its Black queer liberation plot, defined as, “a set of sexual liberation narratives that predicate their protagonist’s sexual freedom on her flight from Black maternal figures, who often serve as stand-ins for the Black community” (Roach 219). The film centers around Alike, the protagonist, and her journey towards gender and sexual freedom. Alike’s mother, Audrey, stands as the homophobic Black maternal figure who remains in the way of Alike’s freedom. Audrey expects Alike to uphold the politics of respectability that works to punish Black sexual deviance from the Western world’s hegemonic notions of Black gender and sexuality. In the final scene of the film, Alike is accepted into UC Berkeley, and her mother refuses to accept her (she does not tell her “I love you” in return). Nevertheless, Alike’s departure from her homophobic mother earns her erotic freedom as an individual who can regain control of her sexuality. Although she is entering a world with others like her mother who may be unaccepting of her, Alike is confident in who she is, enabling her to navigate the world that aims to suppress Black queer bodies with her dignity intact.
Soul Food is a child-narrated film told through the eyes of Big Mama’s grandson, Ahmad. The movie involves three sisters who are dealing with multiple feuds that nearly break up the family and Sunday dinners. According to film critic Roger Ebert, “movies and TV often focus only on a narrow wedge of Black America, showing pimps and junkies, outlaw teenagers and con men, but ignoring the vast and substantial African-American middle and working classes.” This family goes against societal expectations, as it includes individuals like Teri, who has a corporate salary, as well as other members of the family who remain in the middle/upper-middle class. Aside from breaking societal expectations of the one-dimensional, unsuccessful Black individual, the film seeks to break the generational trauma of Black families being split apart and broken, which dates back to the era of slavery. Ahmad steps in as the leader who successfully mends the family together when he devises a plan to gather the family for Sunday dinner. The film shows its viewers the value of Black individuals sticking together as a family, especially in a world that continues to oppress their community.
Miss Juneteenth
Channing Godfrey Peoples’ 2020 Miss Juneteenth stars former Miss Juneteenth beauty queen, Turquoise Jones, and her desire to prepare her daughter, Kai, to win the title. The film aims to destabilize the politics of respectability, a set of standards imposed upon the Black community by the white society in an attempt to “civilize” Black people. The pageant celebrates the June 19th holiday, which celebrates the day the Texas slaves discovered they were free two years after the Emancipation Proclamation. Unfortunately, the pageant upholds its contestants to the politics of respectability—a mold that Turquoise does not fit as a woman who did not go to an HBCU after she won the competition and works hard to maintain a living by working at a bar. Turquoise, ashamed of her life path, wants Kai to live the successful life she always wanted. On the other hand, Kai dreams of joining her school’s competitive dance team, a “scandalous” activity that is not deemed respectable by Turquoise’s standards. The film earns its happy ending when Kai adds a twist to her performance of Maya Angelou’s poem “Phenomenal Women,” Turquoise’s winning talent, at the competition. Without telling her mother, Kai performs the poem through dance and hip-hop beats—an act that enables Turquoise to smile at her daughter. Although Kai does not win the competition, Turquoise expresses how proud she is of her. The ending shows the audience the destructive nature of the politics of respectability that works towards dividing the Black community, a group that is supposed to help one another, especially in a world that praises whiteness and degrades blackness. Kai and Turquoise are able to bond and support one another through hardship, displaying the importance of holding onto one’s sense of self without the need to conform to standards that paint Black individuals as inferior and uncivilized.
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Conclusion
This critical essay explored whether or not the happy ending is the same in all African American films. Early on, the happy ending, as defined by Mulvey, strays away from the cliche Hollywood ending that fixes all the issues that appear in the film. It deems a happy ending to be one that fulfills the viewer while also raising societal issues that must be addressed by the audience after they finish watching the film. Watermelon Man earns its fulfilling happy ending by making the protagonist remain Black and subverting and pointing viewers’ attention to society’s notion that whiteness is normative. Sweet Sweetback’s Badass Song uses space and muteness to silence Sweet Sweetback, the western antihero, suppressing Hollywood’s ability to manipulate him in a way that reinforces Black stereotypes. This brings to light the issue of the white community’s desire to control Black bodies. Dope finds its happy ending by going against the negative association between blackness, drugs, and violence by introducing Malcolm and his friends, high-achieving individuals who stand at odds with these societal expectations of the Black community. The Best Man achieves its happy ending by shining light on the difficulties of intersecting occupational success and love, especially for Jordan, who remains single to hold onto her independence and worth. Pariah and Soul Food explore contrasting ways to achieve freedom, and they bring to light the importance of Black unity in a white society that seeks to separate the Black family. Finally, Miss Juneteenth works against society’s politics of respectability that continues to plague the Black community, honoring acceptance of oneself without feeling the need to change to fit white society’s standards. All of these films achieve positive closure in different ways, as they all tackle different types of societal issues affecting Black individuals. There isn’t a singular happy ending, for the happy ending can take on many forms in different film.
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