The Films of Spike Lee: Crooklyn (1994)

Crooklyn (1994)

Directed by: Spike Lee.

Written by: Joie Susannah Lee and Cinque Lee and Spike Lee.

Starring: Alfre Woodard (Carolyn Carmichael), Delroy Lindo (Woody Carmichael), Zelda Harris (Troy Carmichael), Carlton Williams (Clinton Carmichael), Sharif Rashed (Wendell Carmichael), Chris Knowings (Nate Carmichael), Tse-Mach Washington (Joseph Carmichael), David Patrick Kelly (Tony Eyes / Jim), José Zúñiga (Tommy La La), Isaiah Washington (Vic Powell), Spike Lee (Snuffy), N. Jeremi Duru (Right Hand Man), Norman Matlock (Clem), Frances Foster (Aunt Song), Joie Susannah Lee (Aunt Maxine), Vondie Curtis-Hall (Uncle Brown), Ivelka Reyes (Jessica), Manny Pérez (Hector), RuPaul (Connie the Bodega Woman), Tiasha Reyes (Minnie), Patrice Nelson (Viola).

 

I cannot help but wonder if Spike Lee’s Crooklyn was a response to the movies of the early 1990s that showed the inner cities are crime ridden cesspools – places where drugs, gangs and death hang over every scene. I’m talking about films like John Singleton’s Boyz in the Hood, the Hughes Brothers Menace II Society – and even his own longtime cinematographer Ernest R. Dickerson’s Juice. It’s not that Lee disagrees with those film per se – his next film, the brilliant Clockers, has a lot in common with them – but that Lee wanted to look back at a time, not that long ago, when that wasn’t the case. Crooklyn, which Lee co-wrote his sister Joie and his brother Cinque – is based on their memories of growing up in Brooklyn in the 1970s. It wasn’t that poverty want a factor in their lives – it’s a running theme throughout the film – but more like the family unit remained strong, and the community around them supported them as well. There are no gangs in Crooklyn, no guns – and the two drug addicts, the sniff glue, are mainly played for laughs. Crooklyn isn’t an angry film, but it does show just how far things have fallen in the 20 years between when the film takes place – and when it was made.

 

The film takes place over a few months, from late in the school year, throughout summer. It doesn’t have a story per se, but proceeds with the messiness of life – a series of vignettes that take the Carmichael family through some happy and some sad times. Mother Carolyn (Alfre Woodard) is a high school teacher, trying to raise five children – four boys and one girl – with little financial help from her husband, Woody (Delroy Lindo) – a musician. He used to make more money, but now he wants to concentrate on his own music – serious music – but no one is willing to pay him for it. It’s a struggle to keep food on the table, and Con Ed from shutting off the power. The family argues – but in the way real families do. The siblings seem like siblings, the parents try to shield them for their own fights, but the kids know what is going on. There are conflicts with the neighbors – but again, it’s mostly humorous. When the girl, Troy (Zelda Harris) gets caught shoplifting, the bodega owner doesn’t call the cops – but gives a speech that will have a more lasting impact.

 

Troy eventually emerges as the main character in the film – and I have to say, she is probably the most well rounded female protagonist in all of Lee’s filmography. The movie was his sister Joie’s idea, so it makes sense that she emerges from the pack of four boys as the lead character – how she fits in them, how is a tomboy in many ways, but is still a girl, and stands apart from them. The movie follows her as she goes down South for the summer to spend it with an Uncle and Aunt, who have a lot more money – and an adopted daughter around Troy’s age. Lee does something fascinating visually here – the screen seems to stretch, and become slightly distorted. This is a strange, alien world to Troy – and Lee finds a fascinating way to show us in the audience that.

 

The movie is a film about childhood, but I’m not sure I would classify it as a coming of age story. Certainly the last act of the film could be called a loss of innocence for Troy and her brothers – the adult world that they have caught glimpses of, but don’t wholly understand throughout the film, make themselves plain in this act. But the kids remain kids, and life will continue.

 

Crooklyn perhaps doesn’t get the attention that many other Lee films gets, because it isn’t as flashy – Lee isn’t courting controversy here, but showing us the world of his childhood, and all that entails. It is a quieter, more sensitive film – and he has perfectly cast it (Lindo and Harris are the standouts here). The film is funny and sad, and has the ring of true life. It’s one of Lee’s most underappreciated gems.

The Films of Spike Lee: Malcolm X (1992)

Malcolm X (1992)

Directed by: Spike Lee.

Written by: Spike Lee and Arnold Perl based on the book by Alex Haley and Malcolm X.

Starring: Denzel Washington (Malcolm X), Angela Bassett (Betty Shabazz), Albert Hall (Baines), Al Freeman, Jr. (Elijah Muhammad), Delroy Lindo (West Indian Archie), Spike Lee (Shorty), Roger Guenveur Smith (Rudy), Theresa Randle (Laura), Kate Vernon (Sophia), Lonette McKee (Louise Little), Tommy Hollis (Earl Little), James McDaniel (Brother Earl), Steve White (Brother Johnson), Ernest Lee Thomas (Sidney), Jean-Claude La Marre (Benjamin 2X), Wendell Pierce (Ben Thomas), Giancarlo Esposito (Thomas Hagan), Leonard L. Thomas (Leon Davis), David Patrick Kelly (Mr. Ostrowski), Bobby Seale (Street Preacher), Al Sharpton (Street Preacher), Christopher Plummer (Chaplain Gill), Karen Allen (Miss Dunne), Peter Boyle (Captain Green), William Kunstler (The Judge - Boston), Nelson Mandela (Soweto Teacher), Craig Wasson (TV Host), Ossie Davis (Eulogy Performer).

 

The case can be made that Spike Lee’s Malcolm X is the greatest biopic of all time – it is certainly my favorite. It’s that rare biopic that manages to capture a whole complex human being, and doesn’t try to make him into a saint, and doesn’t try to demonize him either. It see Malcolm X with clear eyes – and it becomes clear by the end that perhaps the biggest tragedy of his assassination is that he was just starting a new chapter in his life, with a new, more inclusive way of thinking – while still maintaining the fiery rhetoric and opinions that made him an icon in the first place. Who knows what Malcolm X would have become if given more time on this planet.

 

One of the keys to Malcolm X working as well as it does is that Lee takes his time – the film runs 200 minutes, and uses every one of them wisely. The film spends a little more than an hour of that time on Malcolm before the Nation of Islam, and his conversion in prison. It shows his upbringing the son of a preacher, who was murdered, who was ripped away from his family, and knew racism his whole life. It shows his descent into drug addiction and crime. He gets his start there with his childhood friend Shorty (Lee himself), and how he gets involved with West Indian Archie (Delroy Lindo) – a ruthless numbers kingpin. When he gets to prison, he is lost – but is drawn to Baines (Albert Hall), who preaches about Allah – and the Honorable Elijah Muhammad (Al Freeman Jr.) – the head of the Nation of Islam. Malcolm, who was always smart, takes to it quickly. Out of jail, he becomes one of the faces of the Nation of Islam – its most outspoken spokesman. He marries, has kids – but perhaps becomes too big for the Nation to hold him. There is jealously there – and his faith, not in Allah, but in Elijah Muhammad is shaken. He will be killed by the same organization he once served so well.

 

That’s a lot of material for a movie to cover – but Lee does so brilliantly. He famously took over the project from Norman Jewison – when Lee complained (not incorrectly) that a black filmmaker should tell Malcolm’s story. Jewison is a fine director himself, but it’s hard to see him doing a film this bold and ambitious. The greatest asset Lee has is Denzel Washington in the lead role – one of the greatest performances in screen history. Washington is equally comfortable being the young, brash, confident hustler at the beginning of the film, the fiery orator whose speeches made him famous in the middle, and the tired, weary man at the end. It’s a role that demands much of Washington, and he rises to every challenge. Lee is with him the whole time – there are a lot of speeches sprinkled throughout the film – and they can be difficult to make interesting and not repetitive. Washington does his part – he nails the vocal inflections and tone of Malcolm – delivering the speeches with the same fire. But Lee makes them interesting as well – he places them in context, he concentrates not just on the words, but on the crowds, and how they hang on his every word. Never has a movie with so many speeches not seemed that merely speechifying – which can be the death of drama.

 

Lee does everything else right in the movie as well. The supporting cast is all good – they don’t allow themselves to be completely bowled over by Washington, but they don’t steal the spotlight from him either. The period detail – spanning mainly from the club scenes of 1940s Harlem, with its clubs, through the 1960s is perfect. Ruth Carter’s costumes (the only Oscar nomination the film received outside of Washington’s performance) are the best of her great career – and the work by Ernest Dickerson as cinematographer, Wynn Thomas’s production design, Barry Alexander Brown as editor (who had a massive task) and perhaps Terrence Blanchard’s best score all excel as well.

 

Lee doesn’t fall into the traps of most that most biopics do – that play like a series of greatest hits. He’s more interested in who Malcolm was – and his progression from a young age, into the man he became – and was still in the process of becoming. It is a huge, bold, ambitious movie – one in which Lee takes one massive chance after another, and pretty much nails each and every one. The film is a masterpiece – pure and simple.

The Films of Spike Lee: Jungle Fever (1991)

Jungle Fever (1991) 

Directed by: Spike Lee.

Written by: Spike Lee.

Starring: Wesley Snipes (Flipper Purify), Annabella Sciorra (Angie Tucci), Spike Lee (Cyrus), Ossie Davis (The Good Reverend Doctor Purify), Ruby Dee (Lucinda Purify), Samuel L. Jackson ("Gator" Purify), Lonette McKee (Drew Purify), John Turturro (Paulie Carbone), Frank Vincent (Mike Tucci), Anthony Quinn (Lou Carbone), Halle Berry (Vivian), Tyra Ferrell (Orin Goode), Veronica Webb (Vera), Michael Imperioli (James Tucci), Nicholas Turturro (Vinny), Michael Badalucco (Frankie Botz), Debi Mazar (Denise), Tim Robbins (Jerry), Brad Dourif (Leslie), Theresa Randle (Inez).

 

There are parts of Jungle Fever that are as great as anything Spike Lee has ever done. And there are some parts that, well, aren’t. Jungle Fever is another of Lee’s films that deliberately courts controversy – that wants to challenge and disturb the audience, and make them leave the movie at the very least thinking about everything that Lee has done in the film. To a certain extent, it’s Lee in his “let’s throw everything at the wall and sees what sticks” mode – and more sticks than doesn’t.

 

The film stars Wesley Snipes as Flipper Purify, a successful black architect, living in Harlem with a beautiful wife Drew (Lonette McKee) and a young daughter he adores. He wants to be made a partner in his firm – but his bosses (Tim Robbins and Brad Dourif) aren’t convinced – and speak in the way racist liberals speak when they don’t want to sound racist. When Flipper is introduced to his new assistant – Angie Tucci (Annabella Sciorra), from Benson Hurst – he doesn’t realize right away that this is the woman who he is going to throw everything away for. Yes, the pair start an affair – that starts in a terrific scene, where the pair of them are working late over Chinese good, and flirt with each other in a playful way – until they are having sex on the desk. Had it ended there, perhaps what happens next could be avoided – but, of course, it doesn’t.

 

They other major plot thrust to Jungle Fever is about the crack epidemic – that has hit the Purify family because of Flipper’s older brother Gator (Samuel L. Jackson). Gator shows up either to Flipper’s or their parents (Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee) when he needs money – always with a good story. As long as they give it him, he’s a happy, laughing, dancing fool – but he can turn ugly when things do not go his way.

 

Do these two plot threads fit together in Jungle Fever? I’m honestly not sure – they don’t seem to have much to do with each other, and when Lee brings together in the final moment of the film, the result is more, well, ridiculous – how Flipper makes the leap he does in that moment in his mind is beyond me. And yet, as separate plot threads, they work in isolation from each other. Lee has a lot of observations about interracial relationships – but despite what you may have heard about the film, he really is not against them. Lee clearly doesn’t like the one at the center of the movie between Flipper and Angie, because that one isn’t based on anything more than myths, stereotypes and curiosity. At one point, Ossie Davis gives a long speech about the history of these stereotypes dating back to the slavery days designed to humiliate his son and his new girlfriend. Lee’s attitude is perhaps not that harsh – the film also clearly does not like Ossie Davis’ character, who it is hinted at has more darkness that he lets on – but it’s not far from it. What is clear though is that these two people don’t really know each other – they don’t throw away their entire lives (both Flipper and Angie lose their family as a result of their relationships) because they’re in love. They’re more curious than anything. But Lee does show another potential interracial relationship between Angie’s ex-boyfriend Paulie (John Turturro) and a customer of his Orin (Tyra Ferrell) that perhaps has a chance. They like each other after they get to know each other as people – and are going into that relationship with eyes wide open. That one may work, because it’s based on something real.

 

I do find it interesting that the interracial relationship he doesn’t like is between a black man and a white woman, and the one he likes is the reverse. One of the most memorable scenes in Jungle Fever involves Drew assembling all of her friends – a group of black women – who discuss their own feelings of insecurity and sexual desire, and how it relates to the black men in their lives – and the white women so many of them (especially the successful ones) are with. This is perhaps the most honest, sustained sequence involving only female characters Spike Lee has ever put on film – and it addresses the same stereotypes Ossie Davis’ speech does – but in a more real, less preachy way, and its fascinating.

 

In some way, it feels like the drug subplot of Jungle Fever is grafted on unnaturally to the rest of the film. I wouldn’t want to lose that – it gave Samuel L. Jackson one of his very best roles (his breakout really) – one in which he was so good they invented a prize at Cannes for him that year, and also gives a great role to a young Halle Berry. It also gives us one of the most virtuoso of all Spike Lee sequences – a delirious trip to hell by Flipper has he descends into the darkness of a crowded crack house in search of Gator. It is the single best scene in the film – and one of the best Lee has ever directed. This timeline was especially timely back in 1991 – the height of the crack epidemic in America – and perhaps what links the two storylines together is that Lee perceives them both as a threat to the black community.

 

As great as most of Jungle Fever is – there are elements that don’t come off quite as well. Lee never really figures out the central relationship in the film – he thinks it’s all based on stereotypes, and whether true or not, it doesn’t make the central relationship any more interesting because he is essentially filming a metaphor. For her part, Sciorra seems to understand Angie better than Lee does – and that gives her character an extra dimension that wasn’t there on the page – and makes her the most interesting character in the film. It’s another reason to be mad at Harvey Weinstein – because of what he did to Sciorra, what could have and should have been an amazing career was derailed. She’s great here. Snipes doesn’t quite figure out how to make Flipper into a real person, instead of a stand-in character – a character meant to represent something larger than himself. He’s fine in the movie – the steady lead needed to ground it – but he’s never quite a real person.

 

And what can you say about the final scene in Jungle Fever. It doesn’t really work, it comes out of nowhere, and is such an overdramatic moment that you almost have to stifle a laugh of shock when it come son. Lee is a talented, smart filmmaker. I give him the benefit of the doubt that he gets the reaction he wants there – I just have no idea why he would want it. Was there not a better way to end this film?

 

And yet, despite my reservations about it, I have to say that Jungle Fever is still a great film. It may have aged a little more than Do the Right Thing, but it’s still relevant and provocative today. Watching it today, it is still a challenging film – one that sticks with you, flaws and all.

The Films of Spike Lee: Mo' Better Blues (1990)

Mo' Better Blues (1990) 

Directed by: Spike Lee.

Written by: Spike Lee.

Starring: Denzel Washington (Bleek Gilliam), Spike Lee (Giant), Wesley Snipes (Shadow Henderson), Joie Lee (Indigo Downes), Cynda Williams (Clarke Bentancourt), Giancarlo Esposito (Left Hand Lacey), Bill Nunn (Bottom Hammer), Jeff "Tain" Watts (Rhythm Jones), Dick Anthony Williams (Big Stop Williams), Abbey Lincoln (Lillian Gilliam), John Turturro (Moe Flatbush), Nicholas Turturro (Josh Flatbush), Robin Harris (Butterbean Jones), Samuel L. Jackson (Madlock).

 

Coming so close on the heels of a masterpiece like Do the Right Thing, it’s not surprising that Mo’ Better Blues was seen as somewhat a disappointment in comparison. It isn’t a masterpiece like Do the Right Thing was – it is a less ambitious movie about a young trumpet player on the verge of a breakout success – and how that affects him, and everyone else in the movie. In a way, Lee seems to be making a movie about someone like himself – a young artist, who has to navigate the world of friends, family, girlfriends, hanger-on’s and money men who all want a piece of him – and the toll that takes. The film doesn’t entirely work – the last act in particular is more than a little bit of a mess – but when the film does work, it’s quite good.

 

The contemporary film stars Denzel Washington, in his first role for Lee, as Bleek Gilliam – who we first meet as a child, whose mother will not let him out to play with his “hoodlum friends” until he’s done his trumpet lessons. Flash forward 20 years or so, and Bleek  is the leader of his own jazz quintet – playing to a packed Brooklyn Jazz club run by the Flatbush brothers Moe and Josh (John and Nicholas Turturro). His agent his is his childhood friend giant (Lee himself), a degenerate gambler, who isn’t much of a manager – he cannot even get more money for Bleek, even though he clearly deserves it. One member of his band is Shadow (Wesley Snipes), a young saxophone player who is great, knows it, and has taken to hogging the solos a little longer than anyone else likes. It’s only a matter of time before Shadow breaks out on his own – and they all know that. Bleek is currently juggling two girlfriends – smart, reliable school teacher Indigo (Joie Lee) and wannabe jazz singer Clarke (Cynda Williams). This start coming to a head with all of these storylines, as the various conflicts come together to tear Bleek apart – although most are, of course, of his own doing by his inability to make a decision in his own best interest.

 

In a way, every character in the movie is looking for some way to exploit Bleek – or at the very least, use him as a stepping stool to get what they really want. They count on his loyalty to them as a reason why he won’t turn his back on them and walk away – even if that is what he should do. The most obvious example is Giant of course – he isn’t much of a manager, he isn’t much of a friend – he uses Bleek as his sole employment and moneymaker, but also depends on him to bail him out of trouble. Giant leans on their long, shared history together to do this – if they hadn’t known each other since childhood, Bleek would have left him behind long ago – but he just cannot do it. As Giant falls deeper in debt to bad people, Bleek is still there by his side – and it costs him dearly. But there are others who are using Bleek as well – Shadow and Clarke both see him as a stepping stone – a way to get ahead, further their career. They’re with him if it will help them – but will drop him if they don’t. Interestingly though, Lee seems to recognize that even in these sorts of relationships – where people use each other – there is still a sort of friendship there. Giant, Shadow and Clarke all do care about Bleek – perhaps just not enough.

 

I do wish that the character if Indigo, player by Joie Lee, Spike’s sister, was better defined. She is the “safe” choice between the two women in Bleek’s life – and she suffers a little bit from not having the pure charisma of Cynda Williams’ Clarke (speaking of Williams, what happened to her career? She is great here and even better in Carl Franklin’s One False Move from 1992 – but never seemed to get another role as good again). Lee is quite good as Indigo – but Lee’s screenplay never really sees her as anything other than the “safe” choice. A problematic scene near the end of the movie between Bleek and Indigo ends in a way we expect – movies like happy endings – but there’s little reason given from her point-of-view as to why she would have made the decision she did. It hurts the movie that unlike Bleek, Shadow, Clarke and Giant, Indigo is more concept than character.

 

Even during the rough patches of Mo’ Better Blues though there are two elements that keep it entertaining and engaging. One is Denzel, of course, showing why he’s one of the best in the business. He can coast on his charm alone if he wanted to – but rarely does. Here he makes Bleek driven and somewhat of an asshole – but one we always root for anyway. He’s a tough character to love – but we love him anyway. The other is Lee’s filmmaking, which here is at its most beautiful. His love of jazz comes through throughout the film – letting songs play out at length. The brilliant colors in the film are beautiful, as are the darkened, smoke filled rooms. There is always something of interest to look at – or listen to - in Mo’ Better Blues.

 

I really don’t think the ending of Mo’ Better Blues works. It almost feels like Lee wrote himself into a corner, and needed to find a way out – and does. He doesn’t quite give into the most egregious clichés he could have – a comeback performance does not go well for instance – but the whole years spanning montage that ends the film – and bookends with the beginning – feels false, precisely because it never does explain how the Bleek we’ve gotten to know over the past two hours becomes the Bleek we see in the last five minutes. It doesn’t really work – even if we want it to. Does Bleek earn the ending Mo’ Better Blues gives him? I don’t know – and the reason I don’t know is because Lee seems to leave that out. And in this case, that hurts the film.

The Films of Spike Lee: Do the Right Thing (1989)

Do the Right Thing (1989) 

Directed by: Spike Lee.

Written by: Spike Lee.

Starring: Spike Lee (Mookie), Danny Aiello (Sal), Ossie Davis (Da Mayor), Ruby Dee (Mother Sister), Giancarlo Esposito (Buggin' Out), Bill Nunn (Radio Raheem), John Turturro (Pino), Richard Edson (Vito), Roger Guenveur Smith (Smiley), Rosie Perez (Tina), Joie Lee (Jade), Steve White (Ahmad), Martin Lawrence (Cee), Leonard L. Thomas (Punchy), Christa Rivers (Ella), Robin Harris (Sweet Dick Willie), Paul Benjamin (ML), Frankie Faison (Coconut Sid), Samuel L. Jackson (Mister Señor Love Daddy), Steve Park (Sonny), Rick Aiello (Officer Gary Long), Miguel Sandoval (Officer Mark Ponte), Luis Antonio Ramos (Stevie), John Savage (Clifton), Frank Vincent (Charlie), Richard Parnell Habersham (Eddie), Ginny Yang (Kim).

 

Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing is the best film about race in America ever made, and I don’t think that any movie will ever really take its place. It was made 29 years ago, and with the exception of the clothes and the music, it hasn’t aged a second in all those years. It is the film I think about every time I see demonstrations and protests in the wake of another killing of a young black man at the hands of the police. The last half hour of the film is painful and angry and sad – and all too real.

 

The reason those final scenes hit so hard though is because of all the groundwork Lee has laid for them in the first 90 minutes of the film. My wife, who had never seen the film before, asked me what the plot of it was and I said simply “A really hot day in Brooklyn” – because that, after all, is what the film is about. It’s about one block in Bed Stuy, and what happens on the hottest day of the year that leads to the violence we see at the end. We meet Mookie (Lee himself), who works a Pizza Delivery guy for Sal (Danny Aiello), who runs the local pizzeria with his sons Pino and Vito (John Turturro and Richard Edson) – and has for 25 years now. Lee lives with his sister Jade (Joie Lee) and has a young sister with his girlfriend Tina (Rosie Perez). There’s Da Mayor (Ossie Davis), an old man, who just wants enough money to buy his beer – but is also known and loved by everyone on the block, and tries to simmer everything down. Mother Superior (Ruby Dee) sees everything from her window – and maybe the only one who really doesn’t like Da Mayor. There’s the three black men who sit all day on the corner, remarking on everything that goes on like a Greek Chorus. The DJ (Samuel L. Jackson) who is a kind of narrator and soundtrack for everyone. There’s Smiley (Roger Guenveur Smith) who stutters and has some sort of mental issues, who sells pictures of Malcolm and Martin for $2.

 

The problems that will lead to the violence start off as mostly comic. Buggin’ Out (Giancarlo Esposito) is angry because Sal refuses to hang the pictures of any brothers on his Wall of Fame – which is reserved for Italian Americans only. Sal tells Buggin’ Out to open his own place and put up whoever’s picture he wants up there – but Buggin’ Out has a point that it’s black people who spend the money in Sal’s. Radio Raheem (Bill Nunn) carries his absurdly large Boombox blaring Public Enemy’s Fight the Power at full blast everywhere he goes – annoying even those who like the song. Both of these conflicts will start as comedy, and come together, and end as tragedy.

 

It is because we get to know all of these characters – and more – over the course of one long day in Brooklyn that the end of the film is so shocking. The “riot” and the burning of Sal’s Pizzeria is shocking of course – and something that white audiences have often latches onto as irresponsible. But that rage coming from the black members of the community is, of course, real and justified – they just saw an innocent, young black man killed by the police. If this were a real incident, no doubt we would hear from the police how they were scared – how the young man wouldn’t listen, he was big, and they didn’t know if he was armed. Yet, clearly, they had a choice – you hear those in the crowd yell to let him go, you even hear other officers yell that. And yet, choices were made that cannot be unmade.

 

Do the Right Thing is an angry film, yes, but more than that it is a sad and empathetic film. Lee understands all of these people, why they do what they do. It is not a simple film about good and bad, right or wrong – but a film full of complicated people capable of both good and bad. Lee, I think, often gets himself in trouble in interviews – where his rhetoric is often more fiery than his films are. Here is a film that shows empathy for Italians Americans who use the n-word – and understands the difference between when John Turturro’s Pino says it and when Danny Aiello’s Sal says it – neither are okay of course, but you can understand one more than the other. It’s a film that knows that anger in the black community that lashes out in violence against the one target they have – Sal’s – and then how that anger almost spills over to pick on an innocent target – the Korean grocery across the street, who had nothing to do with it. The black residents on the street are unhappy – and not unjustly – at the generations of economic wealth that has been systematically denied them – and yet the poor Korean grocers are, like them, trying to get by on little.

 

More than anything else Do the Right Thing is a great film about race because it doesn’t pretend to have all the answers – or even that there are answers to be found anywhere. It’s one of the odd quirks of movie history that Lee’s film came out the same year as Driving Miss Daisy – a perfectly fine film, but a comforting one about race, that argues that we really can all get along, and things are better now. It sums it up in a neat little package. Lee refuses to do that – which is probably why Driving Miss Daisy won the Best Picture Oscar, and Do the Right Thing wasn’t even nominated. It got only two nominations – one for Lee’s screenplay, and the other for Aiello’s performance. And not that Aiello’s performance isn’t worthy – it is – but the fact that the Academy singled that one out over all the others in the film probably shows where their sympathies lay. Do the Right Thing is a masterpiece – pure and simple – one that grows and becomes more important with time. It’s one of the greatest films ever made.

The Films of Spike Lee: School Daze (1988)

School Daze (1988) 

Directed by: Spike Lee.

Written by: Spike Lee.

Starring: Larry Fishburne (Vaughn "Dap" Dunlap), Giancarlo Esposito (Julian "Dean Big Brother Almighty" Eaves), Tisha Campbell (Jane Toussaint), Kyme (Rachel Meadows), Joe Seneca (President Harold McPherson), Ellen Holly (Odrie McPherson), Art Evans (Cedar Cloud), Ossie Davis (Coach Odom), Bill Nunn (Grady), James Bond III (Monroe), Branford Marsalis (Jordan), Edward D. Bridges (Moses), Kadeem Hardison (Edge), Eric Payne (Booker T.), Spike Lee (Darrell "Half-Pint" Dunlap), Joie Lee (Lizzie Life), Jasmine Guy (Dina), Samuel L. Jackson (Leeds), Roger Guenveur Smith (Yoda), Dominic Hoffman (Mustafa), Cinqué Lee (Buckwheat), Kasi Lemmons (Perry).

 

Like many indie filmmakers do when they make an unexpected hit, Spike Lee got to move over to the mainstream after She’s Gotta Have It with School Daze. Unlike many of those other filmmakers though, Lee basically makes good on the promise showed in the first film with School Daze. He doesn’t completely dodge all the bullets that often here – School Daze is way overstuffed, tries to do way too much, has structural issues and leaves too many loose ends dangling. And yes, like She’s Gotta Have It, the film has some things that have aged poorly (it’s really, really uncomfortable watching the “good guys” in the film do their music routine and use the word fag as an insult). Yet, the film is still 100% Spike Lee – which means it consistently takes risks and is always interesting and entertaining, even if it’s far from perfect. That describes many of his films.

 

The film takes place at a fictional Historical Black College somewhere in the South (it was shot in Atlanta, although I don’t think it ever reveals where the school is). If you needed to describe the plot of the movie, it’s basically an old school college comedy – with the Greek Society feuding with the non-Greeks. This latter group is led in the movie by Dap Dunlap (Laurence Fishburne – who was 27 at the time, and looks older – remember he would play Cuba Gooding Jr’s father in Boyz in the Hood just three years from this) who is a student with a conscience. The film starts with him leading a protest, wanting his school to divest from South Africa – something many other colleges have already done, but there hasn’t (this issue isn’t really brought up again in the movie – one of the many things Lee leaves hanging). His protest is interrupted by the Greeks – specifically the fraternity led by Julian aka Dean Big Brother Almighty (Giancarlo Esposito) – who is running the current pledges through a lot of humiliating hoops. Among the pledges is Half Pint (Lee) – Dap’s cousin, who doesn’t share his cousin’s social conscience. The women on campus – probably for the sake of plot convenience – also fall into the same two camps – with Jane (Tisha Campbell) as Julian’s girlfriend, and head of a sorority, on one side, and Rachel (Kyme), Dap’s girlfriend on the other.

 

School Daze is one of those films that basically throws everything at the wall to see what will stick. In many ways, it is a comedy in the classic 1980s college tradition – with two sides warring with each other. But Lee adds other elements to it as well. There are musical numbers – the standout is Nappy Hair, in which the two groups of women – the Wannabes and the Jigaboos – insult each other for their conflicting hair choices. This is a glorious, Busby Berkeley style musical number, with lots of dancing, and it’s a joy to watch – making you wish Lee had made another musical sooner than 2015’s Chi-Raq. Lee here is addressing something I don’t think I have ever seen in a movie made before School Daze – and not many after – which is the issue of judging each other on skin color and hair style WITHIN the black community, not just outside of it. He does something similar in a stand-alone scene later in the film when Dap and his friends head to a chicken joint in town, and are harassed by a group of older locals – led by the great Samuel L. Jackson – for being smart college boys, looking down on the poor black folk in town (the townies, for lack of a better name, also all have Jeri-curls).

 

The action of the movie comes to a head at a frat party late in the film. Although he’s now in, Julian still wants to humiliate Half Pint – who he (rightly) guesses is still a virgin. He cruelly mocks him, but then even more cruelly uses his girlfriend’s love of him to get her to do sleep with Half-Pint – and then use that as a pretext to dump her. It does seem a little odd that it is this incident, more than anything else we see, that inspired the famous final “Wake Up” sequence in the film.

 

So, yes, School Daze tries to do too much and be too much. It wants to be a comedy and a musical and a drama about race within the black community, and a conflict between educated and non-educated black people, and a socially conscience movie and about a half dozen other things. What holds it altogether is the performances really – it’s odd that Laurence Fishburne didn’t become a Lee regular as he is a strong, and commanding presence here as Dap (to be fair, the Fishburne-type roles in Lee films probably went to Denzel after this). Giancarlo Esposito, who did become a Lee regular, is even better as Julian – a little man, who uses his position to make himself feel bigger than he is actually is. Lee’s issues with writing female characters remains in School Daze though – the Nappy Hair musical number aside – but I think Tisha Campbell is as close as he gets to a fully rounded female character for a while – and she is terrific as Jane (the film doesn’t really know what to do with Rachel, and it shows).

 

The highlights of School Daze though more than make up for the shortfalls in the film. It is an imperfect film – probably more so than I remembered it, because naturally when you think back on a film you haven’t seen in a while, you remember all the great stuff it did, and forget the not-so-great stuff (I had completely forgotten the homophobic stuff in this film – which really is unforgivable in 2018 context, although 1988 audiences probably didn’t even notice it – I sure didn’t see it mentioned in many reviews of the film). It remains an interesting film of Lee’s early career – a kind of precursor to the shock waves he would send through the film world the very next year.

The Films of Spike Lee: She's Gotta Have It (1986)

She's Gotta Have It (1986) 

Directed by: Spike Lee.

Written by: Spike Lee.

Starring: Tracy Camilla Johns (Nola Darling), Tommy Redmond Hicks (Jamie Overstreet), John Canada Terrell (Greer Childs), Spike Lee (Mars Blackmon), Raye Dowell (Opal Gilstrap), Joie Lee (Clorinda Bradford), S. Epatha Merkerson (Doctor Jamison), Bill Lee (Sonny Darling), Cheryl Burr (Ava), Aaron Dugger (Noble), Stephanie Covington (Keva), Renata Cobbs (Shawn), Cheryl D. Singleton (Toby).

 

The importance of Spike Lee’s debut feature She’s Gotta Have It cannot be overstated. It is a key movie in the history of both African American Cinema and Indie Cinema. In terms of a film about black people, it was one of the first that wasn’t about gangs and drugs and violence but it is also wasn’t a phony inspiration message movie either – it was simply a film about normal black people living their lives. As an indie film, She’s Gotta Have It had a ton of stylistic choices that were daring at the time – it showed that indie film didn’t have to be dire or neorealist - you could do a film with almost no money, and still have style. And yet, while I would never question its importance and influence, I will say I’ve never really seen it as a great movie. It’s a good one, but it’s got a few problematic elements to it that have not aged well (those are too be expected, but at least one of them never really worked). Bur even more than that, I’ve always felt that while the film seems to be about a black woman standing up for her independence and completely unwilling to be shamed about her sexuality, it’s more of a film about three men who don’t understand the woman in question, made by a writer/director who doesn’t understand her either.

 

The film is about Nola Darling (Tracy Camilla Johns) an artist who works for a magazine (even though we don’t really see her do either) living in Brooklyn. She has three boyfriends, and makes no effort to hide that fact from anyone – even the men. There is Jamie (Tommy Hicks), the most down to earth of the trio, who says he loves Nola and wants to settle down with her. There is Greer Childs (John Canada Terrell), a successful model/photographer (I’m not sure which to be honest) living in Manhattan – he is more refined and cultured, and hates comes out to Brooklyn which he looks down upon, and as is a raging narcissist. Then there is Mars Blackmon (Spike Lee himself), a goofy, unemployed, motor-mouthed kid who simply will not shut up. The film navigates through their relationships for a few months, as she juggles the three of them, all of whom become varying degrees of jealous, and try to be controlling – although she refuses to be controlled. There is another love interest of sorts – Opal (Raye Dowell), a lesbian whose entire character is defined as being “the lesbian” in a way that would be seen as offensive now (and probably always should have been).

 

Like many an indie film from the 1980s or early 1990s, the film was shot in black and white, over a period of a couple of weeks, for almost no money. Lee’s skills as a director, while limited by the budget, are still on full display here. He has characters directly address the camera, has a couple wonderful montages, and even a stunning dance number in full, bright, shocking color. While the film is concerned with regular black people living their lives, Lee shows right away that he is a director not afraid of taking chances visually. He knows film is not just photographed conversations, and finds interesting way to shot everything.

 

There are some elements of the film that have aged – none of them well. Opal’s character is seen as one note, and always on the make – like the men, she wants to sleep with Nola constantly, but unlike them, she is never allowed to be more than a sexualized object. More problematic is what happens near the end of the movie – what the film describes as a “near rape” – that comes out of nowhere. It really strikes me as the move by a young director trying to be shocking and provocative, without fully considering why. It doesn’t work, and derails the movie as it heads into the homestretch. I’m also not quite sure why Lee gets the two characters he does back together or screen in the second last scene, only to break them up in a direct address to the camera in the final scene.

 

The bigger problem really though is that I don’t think Lee ever really understands Nola – his central character. He understands Jamie and Greer and Mars – gives them complex characters to play, who are all very different from each other, even if none of them can get over their own hang-ups regarding Nola – and all of them lash out angrily, though in different ways, to her. But Nola herself is a character I just don’t think the movie ever really gets to know – ever gets under her skin to see what makes her tick, and why she does what she does. It is refreshing that the movie doesn’t shame her at all – but the fact that it doesn’t understand her doesn’t help.

 

I will say that most of my issues with the film were pretty much resolved in Lee’s 2017 Netflix series of the same name that updated and expanded the story for 2018. Part of that I think is maturity on Lee’s part, seeing what didn’t work or was problematic, and part it may well be that he added women to the writers room to help flesh out all the women characters – not just Nola, but also Opal (who is now as complex as the three men) – and a few other characters as well. That show flew under the radar, and I don’t know if it will get a second season – but I think it’s a major improvement of this film.

 

Still, you have to respect She’s Gotta Have It – both for what it did accomplish, and what it inspired and set in motion. It remains one of the key films of Lee’s career – even if it’s nowhere near one of his best.