Elle Thinks

Spoiler Free Movie/TV/Video Commentary.

[elle-thinks]

The Woman King - Combatting the Masculinization of Black Women

I was a little scared to watch The Woman King. I saw from the trailers that the movie contained a bunch of badass, Black women, but I wasn't clear on the plot. The ambiguity of the film's story made me worried for what exactly the movie was trying to accomplish in its portrayal of these women. It wasn't until I'd read up on the women who created the film that I became more excited about seeing the movie. Fortunately, Gina Prince-Blythewood, Maria Bello, and Dana Stevens flooded the movie with opportunities to view womanhood in various perspectives, defining Black femininity through an ironically historical and contemporary lens.

Set in nineteenth-century Africa, the film depicts the typical local life found in history textbooks. In a general sense, most communities were patriarchal and expected piety from women. Additionally, a woman's primary role surrounded her family or tribe as a daughter, mother, or wife, etc. However, during this time period, the Dahomey Kingdom had an additional status for women as warriors, who were revered even more than their male soldier counterparts. It is this culture that the film focuses on and embellishes.

In today's context of modern feminism, the film was evidently intended to primarily show female empowerment. I believe the writers did a wonderful job in showcasing this through story. But the layers of the film can be savored in its representation of African, Black women. This was due to great directing.

Overall, I don't think this film was especially good in that it took artistic liberties, fine-tuned dialogue, or had amazing camera work. Additionally, it was a story we've seen in other forms before, and in my opinion, it failed to add a unique twist on the tale. Despite this, the film was impactful (though I'm a bit biased as a target audience member). There are several scenes that are hard to forget due to their level of intimacy and relevance to modern Black women. For example, one moment that lingers in my mind is when a mentor braids a mentee's hair. For me, that was a perfect example of Black femininity. It showcased their sisterly bond and drew upon generations of braiding in the Afrikan diaspora. It also displayed fortitude, as it was a warrior's hairstyle in this culture. This aspect made me recall warriors of the Southern United States who wore map-like braids and risked their lives to help others. There was much to unpack in that scene. Regardless of the film's execution, I think it accomplished it's goal in terms of representation and positive messaging.

The Woman King was an especially interesting film because it purposefully blurred the lines between masculinity and femininity in an appeal to progressive ideology. Additionally, it centered on brown-skinned and darker skinned women, who have consistently been considered less feminine/desirable than their lighter counterparts due to a Eurocentric standard of beauty. Seeing Viola Davis's bulging muscles and contortion of her face into a war cry is not something traditionally viewed as beautiful, and it may have even fed into some stereotypes surrounding the abrasiveness of Black women. Even so, the feminist motif of the film highlights the fact that women have many facets. As any dynamic character, Viola Davis performs in moments of vulnerability and delves into feminine energy in more usual ways later on. Her beauty is then displayed in her multidimensional character rather than relying solely on either her masculine or feminine behaviors.

All in all, the film was a pleasant watch. I appreciated it more for its purpose than its quality.

Additional comments:

Personally, I could have done without the rushed, lightskin subplot. I get, that it was used to show another key definition of femininity (I hope so anyways). Manz was giving body though.

[elle-thinks]

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever Commentary - A Tale of Minority Resiliency

I had the privilege of watching this film with a majority Black audience of over 1000 people, and can I just say, we had A LOT of fun. The dialogue was on point, the costumes were awesome, the fight scenes were well directed, and emotions were high. I've always believed that a good movie holds your attention, makes you feel something, and makes you empathize with the characters, and Wakanda Forever checked all those boxes.

Upon discussing the film with others, I found that we all didn't particularly appreciate one of the film's primary conflicts being between two minority groups who shared similar histories and cultures. War severs the longstanding, cultural impact of the communities involved. While war may not have been discussed heavily (because everything is fairly lighthearted in Marvel movies), it was certainly felt by adult audiences that there would be significant loss on either side of the conflict. I was very ambivalent while watching the film and struggled to find a side or character to root for. In end, I found myself feeling a little stressed over it considering my lens is that of an Afro-Latina, but I was calmed by other plotlines and movie events.

To be fair though, there is an important difference between Indigenous peoples and Latin people who were colonized. It wasn't until after I reflected on this that I removed my little self-insert. This was also a major topic of inspection on social media when it came to some audience members' favorite characters. There was some confusion and debate on the characters' ethnic backgrounds and how they played a role into both American history and Marvel's cinematic universe. While Marvel definitely seemed to be playing with fire in terms of proper representation and literal themes of slavery, I don't think their portrayal of minority ethnicities was intended to be offensive or exploitative. Admittedly, Disney is definitely culture hopping at this point but, at least in this film, it did not seem to detract from the story or dehumanize the characters.

What I absolutely loved about the film was an investigation of vengeance and an opposing view of the hero archetype displayed in the late Chadwick Boseman's T'Challa. Letitia Wright (whose costume designer needs a raise) does an amazing job at expressing the grief and trauma her character experiences, making it all the more plausible for her to make the difficult decisions she does. While the thin line between justice and revenge has been thoroughly showcased in films prior, I enjoyed seeing it play into this scenario and involve story building elements and callbacks to the previous movie.

In conclusion, I think that the external struggle of war and the internal struggle of grief allow for the leveling of socio-cultural walls in the film. Loss is something everyone can relate to and incorporating the historic loss of minority cultures in the United States creates a sense of appreciation for all that remains. This is what makes the characters in this movie relatable and what fundamentally motivates their dynamicity. Being Black or Brown in the United States forces you to carry the burden and legacies of generations that came before you. It is a mutual admiration of this unique experience that the film partially explores and employs as a tool to bond people who have experienced trauma. This also extends to personal, emotional afflictions and plays into the "hurt people hurt people," idea. It takes a lot of strength to overcome this psychological and generational pain to continue to the thrive. Therefore, living a life of resiliency is the only solution.

Random additional comments:

The film had some romantically charged scenes that came out of nowhere, and it was later revealed in an interview that there was an intended romance subplot. Apparently test audiences were not fans of this so, most of the romantic moments were cut from the movie. The end result was two main characters being slightly more flirty than platonic in a general way. Though it did not hinder the plot, it felt abruptly inserted. If anything, it successfully resulted in the thirstification of Letitia Wright and Tenoch Huerta by basically everyone.

Letitia Wright's outfits gave what they needed to give.

Music was a bop. Ooo! And with Rihanna's new music too!

[elle-thinks]

Wendell and Wild Commentary - Tim Burton vs. Black People

About a month ago, I watched Wendell and Wild on Netflix. I know it's been a minute, but I had to sit on my thoughts for a while. You see clay-mation horror films contain a feeling of nostalgia for me, considering the popularity of classics like The Nightmare Before Christmas and Coraline. Wendell and Wild, being directed by the same master of clay animation, Henry Selick, seemed to purposefully contrast the image of Tim Burton's family horror genre in its capacity to include people of color. This purposeful and creative insertion of Black people, Black culture, and contemporary issues made me question the validity of my nostalgic memories and assess the messaging behind the film.

Tim Burton has occasionally alluded to Black people and characters not fitting the aesthetic of his films, when asked about his primarily White casting. That, folks, is a can of worms if I've ever seen one. Without getting into the psychology of his statements, they were very controversial remarks that served as a talking point within the Black community. Additionally, Selick's continued partnership with Burton gave Selick much creative freedom but resulted in primarily Burton's acclaim. Ultimately, Selick does not share the same views about Blackness in horror media, and he decided to reach out to the iconic Key and Peele with an idea for a new project.

Whether it was purposeful or not, (likely it was, due to Peele's progress in the Black horror genre) the trio would create a counterargument of a film to challenge the concerns of Burton. Though most would likely agree that style, artistic expression, and various aesthetics are raceless and genderless, a contemporary example is always helpful. In Wendell and Wild, we are presented with a Black, goth girl as our protagonist who certainly doesn't hold back when it comes to teenage angst and supernatural surprises. We are also shown a compassionate, transgender character who was pleasantly multi-dimensional in both the plot and in personality. The dialogue is filled with AAV, Afro-centric subliminal messages, and some hilarious, Black-inspired one-liners. There is also some educational commentary on the school-to-prison pipeline which largely affects Black and Latin demographics, and you can read more about it here.

The artistic style of the film and the animation quality was top tier. I would recommend watching the film just to see what an amazing production the film actually is for the eye. Additionally, there were interesting interpretations of various environments, like hell being an amusement park or a manifestation of consciousness being a neon green, internal landscape. There was a lot of creativity in this film, resulting in a whacky whimsicalness that children are sure to love. The new take also held my attention as an adult viewer, because I was curious about the world-building aspects.

While I personally enjoyed watching the film, I don't find it to be particularly memorable. Perhaps I cannot compare it to the emotions I felt while viewing the other aforementioned films because I no longer have the lens of a child. I worry the film did not gain the popularity it deserved in relation to other hits like Paranorman and Corpse Bride. Obviously, the Wendell and Wild is fundamentally different from the other films in many ways, but something about the tropes in the plot or the incorporation of progressive modernism grounded the fictional movie in too much reality. It felt very much as if I was watching a television special rather than a children's feature film. Though many new concepts were introduced, it was predictable enough to leave little room for imagination of the viewer.

Ultimately the film proves that Black writers, actors, characters, and other marginalized groups, are more than worthy of being in the horror animation space. As a Black viewer, I actually had a lot of joy watching the film and could relate well to some of the characters. Though I don't see the film establishing quite the same legacy as some of Selick's other works, I hope it serves as a pioneer for others to follow in its niche.

[elle-thinks]

Us Commentary - Black Hypervigilance

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, let’s talk about what matters, Us. This movie is a perfect example of situational awareness in Black folk. Throughout the dialogue and in direct comparison of a White family and Black family’s responses to danger, we see contrasts in character reactions to threatening circumstances. There’s an element of readiness in the Black family’s composure when up against life threating problems, and this is the key to what makes Jordan Peele’s (the director) films successful in the Black horror genre.

                This realistic depiction of Black characters via preparedness, interfamilial relationships, and self-preservation, reverse the typical roles given to Black characters in horror. In mainstream horror films, you might see a Black character sacrifice themselves for a non-Black lead. If you’re a Black reader, you might have experienced watching a Black character act carelessly, and thought this character was not behaving with the caution you might have grown accustomed to. For example, if everyone else started running, you’d be running right along with them.

                I can’t speak for all Black people but, I know we can’t afford to wait or investigate something that’s possibly dangerous. In everyday America, Black people have become attuned to certain signs, language, and microaggressions to avoid racism and racial violence. This attitude, that is typically ingrained by our predecessors, serves as protection from even the supernatural horrors featured in Us.

                The film shows a Black cast picking up weapons, plotting, and acting quickly at the slightest disruption. The film also shows a White family who displays a more lackadaisical attitude about unknown noises and reasons for concern. This difference emphasizes the Black characters’ hypervigilance even more so, and as an audience member, made the frightening aspects of the film all the more plausible.

                This lens of preparedness also affects social dynamics, as seen between both the Black and White family. In what seemed to be friendly conversation, Kitty, the White mother, seems very relaxed and Adelaide, the Black mother, does not lower her guard. Adelaide even refuses alcohol to prevent distraction from watching her children play safely. This interaction was especially relevant in that it showed the lack of understanding prevalent in White privilege. Sometimes its difficult for both sides to relate to one another when they are living with two completely different world perspectives. It’s definitely not impossible to connect, but I was pleased to see such a common experience for Black people blatantly portrayed in this film.

                I ultimately did not enjoy the movie’s story as much, considering it was more employed as a framework for events than a narrative. But I did love seeing a more accurate example of Black people in horror and I appreciate Peele’s expansion from a solo character in Get Out to a Black family in Us. Additionally, since the horror aspect of the film is not racial in nature, it was nice to view the creation of an original concept unfold on screen. Also, quick shout out to Lupita Nyong'o's versatility!

[elle-thinks]

Tales from the Hood Commentary - Unapologetically Black Storytelling

Let’s talk about Tales from the Hood. This film, or really, film anthology, is Blackity, Black, Black. We see a majority Black cast star in stories written and directed by Black filmmakers in an effort to address some of the many issues facing African Americans in the nineties. The theme of the movie is retribution, and the film does not toy with ambiguity. It unapologetically tackles Black-on-Black gang violence, domestic abuse, police brutality, political racism, Black complacency in supporting racist institutions, and more. While these messages are blatant in the film’s storytelling, I wonder if the artistic liberties were conducive in communicating these main ideas to the audience.

The movie itself is a parody of Tales from the Crypt, which is a horror anthology television series. Being a parody, there’s a lot more flexibility in comedy and satire on top of the already exaggerated aspects of horror movies. The first couple stories in the anthology, I could follow along easily, but as the movie progressed, I found myself getting a bit lost in its theatrics. There was also some especially graphic imagery of lynching and violence during the ending of the movie that was seemingly placed more for shock value than to incite fear in the viewer. In my watch of the film, seeing this made my eyes glaze over and I stopped caring about the message. As a Black woman, I felt I didn’t need to see more racial violence towards Black people and the horror was no longer fictitious or supernatural. In my brief discussion with a few of my peers, they noted that they also felt similarly.

                As a film that was made by Black people, for Black people, it portrayed Black characters in ways that were not often seen in the horror genre, or in film in general. One depiction that stood out to me especially, was the perspective of a Black cop that was complicit in police violence against a Black man. Rarely do we get insight into this point of view. The showcase of guilt and fatigue at failing to change the system from the inside is still especially relevant almost thirty years later.  In this example and other ways, the movie eliminates or elaborates upon one-dimensional tropes for Black characters in horror media, like the sacrifice, the mystic, the nanny, the Black-coded monster, and more. If a trope is present in the film, it was generally embellished in a number of ways to add more depth and value for that character in the plot.

                Interestingly, a common thread that was mentioned by UCLA Prof. Tananarive Due in her analysis of the film, was the use of art to express moments of reckoning. Paintings, drawings, custom dolls, and other forms of art are employed to illustrate both vengeance and justice in powerful ways. I’m not sure if this was intended by the film’s creators, but I think it was a unique way to tie the films messages to Black artistry and culture. The Black community is especially proficient in providing aesthetics and media that become very popular, and the film’s use of art may have been a connection to this. What can I say? We’ve just got style.

                In conclusion, I enjoyed watching the movie because it was an incredibly distinctive experience. I also think it did a great job of eliciting audience reactions because what most people remember is how a movie made them feel. Personally, I laughed, was disgusted, was on the edge of my seat, and more. It was a very entertaining movie and I think it accomplished the goals its production team had established concerning Black representation in media. While many parts of the film were a bit over the top, I don’t think it detracted from the story’s messaging. At some parts, I think the point was to be over the top.

[elle-thinks]

Eve's Bayou Commentary

A couple days ago, I viewed the classic, Eve’s Bayou. I know this film was a television hallmark for many Black families since its release in 1997, but I had never seen nor heard of it. Upon my first watch, I was pleasantly surprised to see extremely familiar faces like Megan Good, Samuel L. Jackson, Lynn Whitfield, and Jurnee Smollett. I learned from others that this film was directed by a Black woman, Kasi Lemmons, and it showed the lifestyles of the Black household in a way that only someone with her directive lens could. Today, the film is recognized for being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant” and is preserved in the Library of Congress.

While watching the movie, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was witnessing. There’s blatant foreshadowing of the film’s conclusion, however there is no linear path towards it. It felt as though I was watching a series of alternate stories (like the sequences in a screenplay) or just watching individuals live out their lives. It was not a confusing film to watch, but it definitely felt like it was going in multiple directions while remaining under the same thematic umbrella.

There’s an ambiguity to film, involving the supernatural. However, it seems purposeful that Lemmons never confirms the existence of magic, voodoo, or spirits within the film. I think this adds a thought-provoking element. Additionally, the enigmatic nature of the film in combination with the swampy setting and isolated (segregated) world induces a dreamlike haze. Though the film location and time is during U.S. segregation, it’s highly surreal to watch an all-Black community function in ways that are atypical of what is generally portrayed in contemporary media. For this, the film reached such acclaim.

 [TRIGGER WARNING THIS PARAGRAPH ONLY] The film also handles the topic of incest. It is a plot device to bring about the end of the movie, but it seems to have been a moment that was largely hinted at and built up throughout the film. Perhaps it is meant to be a consequence of actions in general, or it is possibly a more severe ramification caused by karmic forces. Whatever the case, it ruins family dynamics and ultimately plays a role into the greater, tightknit community. There is also a sentiment of victim blaming and he-said-she-said that the movie plays into. Regardless of the moment itself, I believe the blame lies in the authority figure with a full, frontal cortex.

 Ultimately, it is rare to see a family of such repute and wealth during this time period, particularly in the deep South. For this reason, I was pleased with the film and its empowering portrayal of Black femininity. While some pieces of the film seemed disjointed at first, I can easily see how they fit in to the greater plot. Perhaps with more viewings, I can better understand how they embellish the viewer experience.

[elle-thinks]

Candyman Commentary - Fear of Black Poverty

I know I’m late to the game, but I recently finished watching Candyman. I viewed both the 1992 and the 2021 versions back-to-back. I want to share my thoughts on each film because they were extremely different.

1992

Take yourself back in time to the early nineties. People were wearing jorts with fanny packs… What a time to be alive. Anyways, amongst a slew of bad decisions, was Candyman, a movie that greatly exaggerated fears of low-income, Black communities. What most interesting about the film is that the directors and producers were trying to be progressive by having Black representation in the horror genre. This is evidenced in the film, as exposition on the projects, specifically Cabrini Green, is info-dumped to provide historical context and an oh-so-scary back story.

Yet, while attempting to solidify the Black presence in horror media, those who made the film purposely perpetuated stereotypes and false narratives to further the “fear” aspects. For example, a video/doc of the film’s production shows producers explicitly stating that Cabrini Green didn’t look destitute enough, so they brought in more trash to make the projects look slummy. If you think about it, how does seeing trash add scare factor? It does if what’s to fear is Black livelihood and Black environments. The film heavily relies on Cabrini Green as a character itself. In doing so, it draws on the fears of White, wealthier audiences caused by Black crime and other stereotypes of Black communities. This leaves POC viewers, like me, questioning what hyperreal world the plot of the movie is taking place in and why it was considered scary.

Additionally, Candyman himself had several socially charged aspects to him. For example, his slavery related origin story and the dynamic of a Black man chasing after a White woman prompted emotions and imagery during my viewer that brought me out of the film. In some ways the movie was very socially unacceptable, even for the early nineties. My mind called back to Emmet Till and similar themes in King Kong. I presume much of this was ignored though, seeing as how the strong, Black presence of actor Tony Todd was enough in terms of social achievement for some.

For these reasons, the movie did not scare me. It also made me question how the residents of Cabrini Green, which is a very real place, felt about such representations of their community. Additionally, Clive Barker’s original story for Candyman took place in the UK and had a major emphasis on class. It wasn’t until the film was conceptualized that race was inserted as a prominent plot device.

2021

I have less to say about this film because it was very straight forward. It was obvious that its purpose was to subvert practically all the defamatory and stereotypical misfires that its spiritual ancestor displayed. It directly supported Black creativity, empowerment, and history. Its reception may have been significantly different if it was released on it’s original timeline in 2020, at the height of the Black Lives Matter Movement.

This movie had a greater discussion about gentrification and continuous violence against Black people. It did a great job of showcasing Black family and wealth, despite most people not associating the two. It also sparked an interesting conversation around Black artistry and how it can go beyond focusing solely on Black trauma. Instead of having most of the scare factor lie in Black poverty, the film chose a more relatable, loss of self/identity. Psychological thrillers are scary for everyone, regardless of one’s background or biases.

Final Thoughts

I believe the newer film succeeded where the original did not. However, neither film did much for me. I think I’m just not a fan of the Candyman story in general. It’s much more of a revenge movie than a horror for me. I also don’t enjoy summoning rituals being such a key plot device of a horror film, rather than the typical one and done and the plot progresses. Guess I’m just not into Candyman but, I’m sure he’s living in the hearts-and mirrors-of his biggest fans.

[elle-thinks]

ARES Commentary - Pulling the Race Card

I just finished watching Ares, a Dutch, horror show on Netflix. The show itself was entertaining as far as suspense and mystery. But there was one aspect of it that threw me for a loop.

Let's break it down.

Money and status are generational in Ares, and there's a major distinction between families of class and outsiders. Rose, the main character, is an outsider from Ares in many ways. But what I think is not noticeable for many viewers, because the show is not centered around race specifically, is that Rose is the only person of color depicted as a member of Ares.

As a POC, this stood out to me immediately. Though the horror in the film was fantastical, a new nuance of fear arose within me concerning racial violence, othering, and whatever may lie in wait for this one Black character in a sea of White people who disliked her. However, I learned that as the show progressed, pedigree and economic class serve as the primary reasons for members to persecute Rose.

Despite being White passing, Rose is depicted as a biracial character in the show. She is looked down upon for many reasons, the show choosing to focus on finances the most, but her "sullied" blood is also significant. Her dark-skinned father is also viewed negatively, as an outsider who broke her mother from the chain.

Regardless of the nuances of race being present, as a viewer, I was distracted by the actual plot of the show and the tensions between characters. It wasn't until the final episode, when all was revealed, that race became extremely relevant. This...caught me off guard.

Drawing historical connections to colonialism and slavery seemed out of place for the show, but perhaps that's because the symbols of acquired (perhaps stolen) wealth went over my head as a viewer who is not in highest economic bracket. I was also watching the show with subtitles, so maybe some things got lost in translation?

Watching the show conclude in its final minutes with imagery on this theme, seemed like a crutch or rushed conclusion. In some ways it felt violating to use such a serious topic to support the ending to a surreal and unrealistic show. But perhaps it gave semblance to Rose's final task as a Black protagonist and contributed to her unique ability to conclude the show.

That's not to say I believe the history of slavery is an untouchable topic in non-educational forms of media production, but I also think it must be addressed tastefully. The situation is akin to depicting mental illness in film and whether it supports a damaging, insightful, or positive perspective for the viewer. Ares relied upon it to explain away the lore of the show in a hurried manner, and it displaced me from the viewing experience.

For those of you who have watched Ares, what do you think about the role of race in it, if you find it relevant at all?

[elle-thinks]

NOPE Commentary - Primary Themes

I’ve had the pleasure of viewing NOPE twice, once on the big screen and once from the comfort of my own laptop, and I must say that the film showcases Jordan Peele’s versatility. While his first work, Get Out was very much centered on race relations, (he mentions realizing it was about race when he tried to create a story focused on othering, or feeling separated from the group) NOPE acknowledged race but used it to uplift a demographic in the story. Doing so prevents that idea that art produced by a Black creator has to be about how “Blackity-Black [they are],” as stated by New York Times columnist, Jamelle Bouie on his Tik Tok account.

As seen in the trailer, Peele utilizes the first piece of recorded film (which features an anonymous Black jockey riding a horse) to reinforce the narrative that Black people have always been involved in cinema despite being pushed to the sidelines. UCLA Prof. Tananarive Due mentioned, “the West was 20% Black,” after commentary about how many Western films depicted an unrealistic White world. Furthermore, there was a significant Asian population in California for example, that arrived during the Gold Rush. The point is, race is key to relating to our characters and cementing them in Peele’s story, however, the movie is not about systemic racism, racial violence, etc. Being Black influences dialogue and actions, alluding to the Black survival mindset and illustrating Black familial relationships. Race is central to the film, but again, it is not about race.

Instead, the film critiques Hollywood and the dangerous allure of spectacle. Outright, the film states a quote detesting spectacle. In creating such spectacles, there can be a lot of traumas incurred. NOPE exemplifies metaphors about how Hollywood can chew you up and spit you out, the sacrifices one must make for fame, the incentive of virality, and the use of tokenized people of color (Jupe) and animals in cinematic productions. For example, I think Jupe lived past his childhood trauma because there was a sense of kinship between him and the aggressor. He also avoided direct eye contact.

To clarify one additional thing, many do not understand the secondary plotline concerning a character named Jupe. I believe it is complementary to the main story, showing what our main protagonists should not do if you will. Jupe internalizes his trauma as a quality that makes him special and makes him capable of controlling the sublime (the beauty and horror of nature). His presumptuousness leads to his downfall.

Jordan Peele’s reputation has grown significantly, allowing him a 60-million-dollar budget for NOPE. While a significant portion of Get Out’s success was derived from tumultuous racial times within the United States, Peele released NOPE in the wake of a pandemic, the slowing of interest in Black artistry, and with an advertising campaign that left critics and the public with confusion. Yet, Peele triumphs again with over 100 million dollars in box office sales. Though the two are unrelated, NOPE has many people, me included, excited for Peele’s next film, Wendell and Wild, an animated experience.

Finally, I just loved the soundtrack in NOPE. Y'all should give it a listen on Spotify.

[elle-thinks]

Get Out Commentary - Who is the Worst Armitage?

I can't decide between Missy (the mother) or Rose (the daughter/girlfriend).

Missy is not originally an Armitage, as Jordan Peele mentions in an interview about the creation of Get Out. Missy married into the family and not only chose to help them with the "procedure," but put her unique twist on things. She is a key factor in the procedure's success and her abuse of her abilities suggests a suppressed mental awareness of others' responses to her actions. Perhaps more information on her background would have been helpful in fleshing out the Armitage origins.

Rose, on the other hand, was raised in this family. So arguably, she's been brainwashed or taught beliefs that directly support her actions. However, her ability to lie, manipulate, and physically abuse others on a serial basis is uncanny and eerie to watch as a viewer. She is fundamentally incapable of empathy. It makes me curious which relationships she does value, and why she does what she does for her family without directly reaping the benefits.

Which Armitage do you think is the worst offender?

[elle-thinks]

Get Out Commentary - White Privilege

This past week, I watched Get Out by Jordan Peele. It was my fourth time (I think) watching this film and I feel I may have lost a significant amount of the allure that once enthralled me as a new or even second time viewer. Predictability can be a terrible thing, and I found it leading me hurriedly into every new scene. A new moment is coming, how quickly will it arrive? The anticipation prevented me from enjoying the stillness that makes horrors and thrillers toy with one’s emotions. Only the moments that I’d forgotten had a significant impact on me.

                One such moment was very popularized by the trailers and the name of the movie itself, when Andre yells at Chris to, “Get out.” I knew it was coming, but what I lingered on was the dialogue before this scene. In an environment where people value the Black body but have always lived with White Privilege (inherent advantages possessed by a white person based on their race in a society characterized by racial inequality and injustice) no one dared to question the negatives that come with being unambiguously Black in the United States. Leading up to this moment, Chris tosses the uncomfortable subject of detailing the Black experience to the Armitage family to Andre, who is not able to relate.

                The dialogue was rather…on the nose, but it may have been necessary for it to be blatantly stated to the average viewer who may have been lost in the movie magic. If one reflects, it’s easy to see why the consequences of being Black in the United States did not occur to the Armitage family members. They exist in a bubble, a world that they’ve created for themselves which stems from their privilege. For example, in New York, where land and space are hard to come by, they have a plantation-style home, several acres, and an additional guest lodging. This greatly contrasts the urban, liberal landscape of New York City and physically separates the Armitage family from the societal laws that exist outside of their land. Not only is it their Whiteness that prevents others from questioning such privacy, which many Black Americans don’t get, but also their wealth which affords them the land, education, and facilities to perform “the procedure.” It goes without saying that only a fraction of all this could be acquired if the Armitage family had been born Black in the United States.