Black Narratives in Low Concept: A Low Key Introduction

Blindspotting, © 2018 - Lionsgate

When you think of African-American or Black cinema, what comes to mind? My hope is that the scope of the general public goes beyond Tyler Perry’s: A Madea “Something or Other” but in the event that it does, where do our collective minds go? Do the movies we think of fall into categories we recognize under genre or archetype? Historical Fictions about the slaves of a nondescript plantation in the Antebellum South, Dramas about the lives of the youth inhabiting the ghettos of the inner city, Comedies featuring an extensive cast list of all your favorite comedians going on a wacky adventure to here or there.

While within these categories we may find narratives that undoubtedly scratch the surface of the various struggles and triumphs of African-American communities past and present, we are only exposed to controlled perspectives on what it means to be Black in America. For viewers hungry for a deeper look at the core of the African-American experience, the need for universal storytelling becomes abundant. Enter, the low concept film.

But what is a low concept film, you might wonder? These are films that go beyond their IMDb summaries or their script loglines. Their narratives are often character driven and delve into the core of the human experience, usually leading with raw emotion and relatable struggles. They transition the audience out of the passive viewing sphere, urging them to work to understand the many layers of the story and the characters therein. Nothing is surface level or spelled out before them. For me, they are films that put into context feelings seemingly too complex to outwardly express. Quite frankly, there’s a magic to them.

Now, African-American cinema is not a new discovery, and neither is the low concept film. However, in the wake of films akin to Get Out and If Beale Street Could Talk, it’s easy to feel both a sense of enlightenment and a sense of wonder. Enlightenment in the form of embracing the refreshing approach to Black stories on the big screen; wonder in the form of questioning either where all the other African-American low concept films are or what you might have been watching in lieu of them.

In general, low concept films are found in the independent realm of cinema and, as a result, most films like this could fall under the radar of a viewer not privy to seeking them out. If you don’t go to arthouse theaters, if you don’t follow the Sundance Film Festival line-up, if you don’t consider yourself a “film buff,” how would you know? And on the other hand, even if you do fall in line with all of those characteristics, could you say that Black low concept films are among the easier films to find in this category? I come to you as an African-American female film buff who does go to arthouse theaters and who has been known to look in on varying festival circuit line-ups from time-to-time; even I didn’t realize that I was missing out on this ever-growing, niche collection.

Here we find films that touch on universal themes, feelings, and emotions and put them into varying contexts that make them characteristically Black. For modern minority audiences, contemporary filmmaking is showcasing narratives that dig to their collective core. Jordan Peele’s 2017 directorial debut, Get Out, for example, tackles the fear of isolation, specifically through the eyes of an African-American individual in contemporary America. Though the fear of isolation may be something considerably universal, it becomes characteristically Black here. Through the lens of our main character, we can see that isolation among African-Americans does not always mean that they are physically alone, but mentally as well. Even in the company of other human beings (in this example, white human beings), they are made isolated through a persistent categorization as “other.”

In If Beale Street Could Talk (2018), Barry Jenkins touches on the theme of purity of first love while shedding light on the prevalence of a broken system of law and incarceration. The purity of first love is subject to hindrance under the duress of long term separation as a result of incarceration, in this case, wrongful incarceration. This again sheds light on the relationship between African-American people, particularly men, and fear of what it has meant, currently means, and will mean to be Black in America.

For those struggling with identity and self-perception in an ever-gentrifying world, Blindspotting (2018) is for you. Writing duo Rafael Casal and Daveed Diggs bring to life present day Oakland, rife with tension between Bay Area natives and the hipster tech industry moguls that threaten to take over the community and the rich culture therein. Displacement is among the strongest themes presented in the film, not only touching on the feeling of alienation in the main characters’ hometown but also the feeling of racial dispossession in a world where assumptions actively work against Black individuals.

In Moonlight (2016), Barry Jenkins exposes us to a non-traditional side of familiar “hood life” narrative. Here we have an account of an African-American individual who, like many others within these communities, is a victim of circumstance. However, we are also introduced to an archetype that actively resists their predetermined fate, heightened by their differing sexuality. The overarching theme here becomes resistance to the mold of the traditional “Black man from the ghetto.”

These are just a few of my favorite recent examples of powerful African-American stories being told through the low concept lens. There are many films, contemporary and classical, that are out there waiting to be discovered, by you and me both. If you’re wondering, “Why bring this up now?” my reasoning stems from a noticeably recent shift of films like these going beyond festival circuit exposure and transitioning into wide release status. Accessibility is prevalent in the digital age and everyone can enjoy them, film buff or not.

Bottom line: These films are important, not only for African-American and Black viewers, but all interested in gaining insight to the varying human experiences that make up our vast race. Go and watch them, because now, you can.

About the Author

Mercedes K. Milner is a Co-Founder and Administrator of the Write or Die Chicks and the Writers Group Coordinator. She is a staff writer for the WODC Blog and she heads the Reading on Writing column.