Film Blackness by Michael Boyce Gillespie (Review)
Film school students are no strangers to the obscure, philosophical teachings of film theory. Ideally, the purpose of these writings is to challenge the reader to think critically about what is being created around them. Many times, this process ends up looking like an amalgam of additional insight into a film or series that no one connected to the project had even considered.
In the case of Michael Boyce Gillespie’s Film Blackness, the challenge and insight is not only welcome, it’s necessary. Gillespie centers his book around the concept of film Blackness, an obscure, undefinable idea surrounding Blackness in film. He poses a series of questions that challenge the reader to shift away from the stereotypic characteristics that often categorize Black films. By studying four Black films that span the genre, tone, and time period spectrum, Gillespie gives readers an introduction to the multifaceted world of film Blackness. In the same way that there is no one definitive aspect of life to prove it’s Black, there is nothing that suggests there can be only one way to depict Blackness and Black life in film. Nor should there be.
What I Liked:
This book blew my mind. There is something to be said about the personal process of decoding a framework one doesn’t even realize they are a part of. Gillespie invites the reader to enter a sort of Matrix, showing an aspect of the creative industry that most assume is there, but never truly think about. The “otherness” bestowed upon Black film is something I have become familiar with in my reading for this column, particularly where “ethnic” is considered a subgenre. Gillespie gives readers the tools to think critically about how that categorization might inform the way one determines what is Black film and what is not.
Gillespie describes this concept as a perpetual question that should never have a definitive answer. The life experience from one Black person to the next can never be definable. At the very least, if cinephiles everywhere don’t feel the need to question (white) film and it’s varying depictions of life, the same consideration should be given to their “ethnic” counterparts. Beyond this, the creator must consider the way they perceive Blackness in film. As the author posits, “Is Soul Plane (Jessy Terrero, 2004) ‘more black’ than Ganja & Hess (Bill Gunn, 1973)?”
In my favorite chapter, Gillespie studies the connection between coupling, becoming, and fleeting Blackness in gentrifying San Francisco in Barry Jenkins’ Medicine for Melancholy (2008). Black coupling in this context becomes the depiction of Black love in film. Becoming acts as the idea of coming into one’s Blackness and being self aware. The concept of fleeting Blackness surrounds the depleting Black population in San Francisco and the struggle for those left to find connections to Blackness via community. In response to this, Black indie, a presumed assimilation into the white community, emerges as both an act of preservation and a repercussion. The concept of indie goes beyond genre or style and enters a form of perceived archetype of Blackness.
Ultimately Gillespie shows the reader a wealth of opportunity for Black film and depictions of film Blackness as art, life, and all things in between. Though there may be efforts to define Black film or shape it in a way that is marketable, understandable, or attainable to the masses, it should forever remain a perpetual question in the eyes of Black artists. I found this extremely inspiring.
Constructive Criticism:
My main criticism stems from the general unreadability of this book. However, this is more of an issue with the overall style of film theory writing. While I understand the need for the academic tone, I oftentimes felt lost in the flowery wording and didn’t feel that I grasped the concepts as well as I wanted to. At points, it felt like the only reason I could understand any of Gillespie’s words was because of my film school background.
I think the major pitfall of this style of writing is that these important concepts become unreachable to the average person. There are so many artists that would benefit from these teachings, but they won’t be able to glean them because they might not understand the language. If ever a layman's version of this book is published, rest assured I’ll be distributing en masse.
Famous Last Words:
Michael Boyce Gillespie’s Film Blackness sparks a necessary conversation about the art of Black film and it’s indefinable quality. He invites the reader to challenge themselves to perceive all Black film and art as individually distinct pieces of an endless puzzle of Blackness. Although this may not be the easiest read, I would recommend it to anyone willing to weather the storm. The benefits are eternal and perspective shifting. As writers, perpetual evolution is always a win.
*This book was rated on a five star scale system with five stars being the highest ranking and one star being the lowest ranking.
For more from this author: Michael Boyce Gillespie - Faculty Profile, City University of New York
For more from this publisher: Duke University Press
About the Writer
Mercedes K. Milner is a WODC Co-Founder and the Writers Group Coordinator. She is a staff writer for the WODC Blog, heads the Reading on Writing column, and hosts the original WODC podcast, Script to Screen Podcast. She also writes for the WODC original horror anthology podcast, A Bad Feeling Horror Podcast.