A NEW YORK TIMES CRITICS' TOP BOOK OF THE YEAR • BOOKLISTS' EDITOR'S CHOICE • ONE OF NPR'S BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR
“At once a film book, a history book, and a civil rights book.… Without a doubt, not only the very best film book [but] also one of the best books of the year in any genre. An absolutely essential read.” — Shondaland
This unprecedented history of Black cinema examines 100 years of Black movies—from Gone with the Wind to Blaxploitation films to Black Panther —using the struggles and triumphs of the artists, and the films themselves, as a prism to explore Black culture, civil rights, and racism in America. From the acclaimed author of The Butler and Showdown .
Beginning in 1915 with D. W. Griffith's The Birth of a Nation— which glorified the Ku Klux Klan and became Hollywood's first blockbuster—Wil Haygood gives us an incisive, fascinating, little-known history, spanning more than a century, of Black artists in the film business, on-screen and behind the scenes.
He makes clear the effects of changing social realities and events on the business of making movies and on what was represented on the from Jim Crow and segregation to white flight and interracial relationships, from the assassination of Malcolm X, to the O. J. Simpson trial, to the Black Lives Matter movement. He considers the films themselves—including Imitation of Life, Gone with the Wind, Porgy and Bess, the Blaxploitation films of the seventies, Do The Right Thing, 12 Years a Slave, and Black Panther . And he brings to new light the careers and significance of a wide range of historic and contemporary Hattie McDaniel, Sidney Poitier, Berry Gordy, Alex Haley, Spike Lee, Billy Dee Willliams, Richard Pryor, Halle Berry, Ava DuVernay, and Jordan Peele, among many others.
An important, timely book, Colorization gives us both an unprecedented history of Black cinema and a groundbreaking perspective on racism in modern America.
Colorization: One Hundred Years of Black Films in a White World by Wil Haywood is a 2021 Knopf publication.
Wil Haywood has written a study of the history and struggle of black cinema, starting in the silent era and bringing us right up to present day.
Beginning with the protest surrounding ‘A Birth of a Nation', Haywood takes us on a journey through the decades, featuring not only the films, but the triumphs, setbacks, and the continual struggle for recognition and acknowledgement.
This is a very in-depth history, and contains a wealth of obscure, behind the scenes information, alongside familiar faces, films, producers and directors.
The book is a little chunky- as it does go over an entire century’s worth of material, but it’s a smooth, easy read and goes by quickly.
I was very interested in the older history, especially, because it was mostly new material for me- but of course, I did enjoy reading about the people I recognized, learning more about their career launches, the struggles they encountered, and the impact they made on cinema and on history.
Haywood gives a wonderful presentation, with organization, and research. The book does seem to run out of steam towards the end, with fewer opportunities for little-known insights.
That said, this is a fabulous piece of cinematic history, which includes a segment of photographs, notes, Bibliography, and illustrated credits.
For me, there were some nice memories in here. I was reminded of some movies I have not watched in a long time, while learning a great deal about those movies I didn’t know.
But more importantly, the book chronicles the contributions of black artists and black films, the racism, politics, and social themes involved, through the years, while continuing to battle some of these same issues today- one century later.
Overall, this is an informative, fascinating book, all fans of history and the cinema will want to experience.
Haygood's incisive and insightful history of Black American cinema examines 100 years of Blacks on screen and behind the camera—from Gone with the Wind to Blaxploitation films to Black Panther—using the struggles and triumphs of the artists, and the films themselves, as a prism to explore Black culture, civil rights, and racism in America.
Compelling and structured so well - I went in expecting more of a "list of films and how they were made" type of narrative. But Haygood went about this almost as a "what is happening in history and civil rights in this time period" and then brought the film world into it so the two subjects are almost constantly in dialogue with each other. And that highlights how out of step mainstream Hollywood was compared with the rest of the country.
The last chapter, "The Flayed Back" is a short summary of how cellphone cameras have changed how we use film and video, particularly in documenting police violence and hate crimes. An incredible piece of writing.
CW for descriptions of race-based violence and police violence, systemic racism, and use of hate speech in quotations (it would be impossible to get around using the N-word etc in historical documents or quotes, considering that the book opens with the adoration of Birth of a Nation and how that film and Griffiths's racist ideology pervades the movie industry for almost a century)
Troubling book about the history of racism within the film industry. A friend shared this link with me during our book club discussion: http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/co... The more I read, the more I realize how little I know.
Startling and searing. Wonderful, iVibrant, detailed stories of great black film-making — including historical figures and movie plot details — and the key influence on racial attitudes… beginning with the horrific impact of Birth of a Nation. Every page is a revelation so it takes longer than usual as it greatly supplements and challenges standard US history education (what seems now a much white-washed American history) — including history of the cinema — so many of us received.
An excellent deep dive into the intersections of cinema history, Black history, American history - always, of course, coming back to Black cinema history. I appreciated that Haygood was not shy in indicting the powers in Hollywood who have prevented and continue preventing Black creativity to thrive. Definitely required reading for cinephiles and filmmakers (but anyone would enjoy it).
Engrossing, highly enjoyable and eye-opening collection of essays and portraits of Black actors, directors, cultural icons, groundbreakers, and neglected talents. Highly recommended!
I spent months carefully working through this book only for it to take a swan dive into mediocrity when I finally reached the halfway point rendering my careful consideration useless. Anyways, for non fiction reviews I usually do chapter by chapter breakdowns. It helps me recall the main points of a chapter because in nonfiction they can be long and/or cover a lot of material. Be forewarned it is kind of stream of consciousness at first. It becomes more cohesive as it goes on and then regresses again as I start to become disillusioned. Final thoughts at the end.
Chapter 1: covers some of Woodrow Wilson's impact on the country and how the failure of Reconstruction led to the rise of Birth of a Nation; cinema as we know it today has its roots in white supremacy as Birth of a Nation is why we have longer theater hours and snacks
Chapter 2: covers the pioneer Black filmmaker Oscar Micheaux; the first Black director of an all Black feature length film - and his rise to fame in Negro spaces during the same time as the Birth of a Nation came to be; the films he made and how his early influence shaped film going forward even though he fell into obscurity in his later years and the Negro theater began to wane
Chapter 3: covers Fannie Hurst a tour de force white female author whose friendship and mentorship w/Zora Neale Hurston led to the seminal classic (a remake of an adaptation of Hurst's novel of the same name) Imitation of Life 1959: a groundbreaking interracial movie thats success forced mainstream white audiences to witness firsthand the trauma of being a Black American through its masterful interweaving of a Black mother daughter relationship fraught from internalized racism foisted onto the daughter into a purportedly white story; inspired in part by Hurston as Hurst was a purveyor of everyday struggles and used some of Hurston's experiences to feed the original novel; Black people were tickled by this opportunity to see themselves on screen in a major motion picture as actual people rather than caricatures especially in the midst of all the racial turmoil of the late 1950s (Brown vs Board of Education, Emmett Till and the Little Rock 9 to name a few)
Chapter 4: covers the still felt effects of Southern denial and revisionism; Harriet Beecher Stowe puts out Uncle Tom's Cabin by all accounts a riveting yet deeply tragic tale of how much slavery scars in 1852 only to see it maliciously perverted into 'Tom shows' where vaudeville acts would tour the South and put on twisted, offensive adaptations of her work using Blackface and stereotypical depictions of Black people for 'comedic' purposes; the Mammy archetype is born largely from these shows' interpretation of HBC's maid character of Chloe as the South loudly and ostentatious rebelled against the idea that their maids could be multifaceted people and/or unhappy choosing instead to find comfort in the facade these women were forced to put on; this extends to Margaret Mitchell a Southern woman grown up in the times after Reconstruction where Southern hate was particularly virulent, she wrote Gone with the Wind based on her limited, insular view of the world and as such Gone with the Wind while charming on the outside is rotten to its core, Gone with the Wind led to Hattie McDaniel being the first Black woman to win an Oscar but it also further cemented the Mammy as a concept in the minds of white people Southern or otherwise seeing as many Northerners shared similar sentiments even if it was unconsciously; in the end despite what was a groundbreaking moment in cinema little was changed for the better (as evidenced by the choice to cast a white woman as a passing Black character seven years later) and more was lost in the long run, Hattie McDaniel died in relative obscurity
Chapter 5: interlude: 2 and a half pages on Baby Face a Pre Hays movie that actually valued its Black actress and the success of the Help movies' harkening to the days of yore
Chapter 6: flashback: quick look at the night Hattie McDaniel won the Oscar, she donated it to Howard University upon her death as the theater troupe there threw her a luncheon one of the few celebrations for her after her win, they lost it sometime in 1992
Chapter 7: racism was so pervasive in Hollywood it extended to situations outside of their purview ie even actors' personal lives could be subjected to scrutiny and affect their ability to rise in the industry, Sammy Davis Jr, Dorothy Dandridge, James Edward's and Ike Jones all had dalliances or serious commitments to white people that all ultimately ended in tragedy or caused fatal ricochets for the career prospects,
Chapter 8: Porgy and Bess was at one time considered a trailblazer in its depiction of Black life. Published by a white ally in 1925 it was immediately beloved for its immersive, realistic look at Black people during the time period. For years afterwards through its retool into a play then a musical then a revolutionary touring musical at that over the course of 30 years it was mostly beloved. The Civil Rights Movement in the 50s changed all of that as Black people bolstered by the acts of courage in their community against the injustice white people had taken pains to normalize now were more critical of the story. As such the film version bombed leaving behind little more than a snapshot of how far we've come as a race in modern media.
Chapter 9: Sidney Poitier and Harry Belafonte were pivotal in changing the trajectory of the Black male actor in Hollywood. Their disparate yet parallel journeys led to Black male led movies being taken more seriously from the mid 1960s into the Blaxploitation flicks of the 70s.
Chapter 10: flashback, the year is 1965 and Sidney Poitier has just won the Oscar
Chapter 11: The 60s were historical for a multitude of reasons namely the broadening horizons for Black people. A refusal to take the previous mistreatment at the hands of the white powers that be on a societal level spawned a new genre of film that reflected the emerging status quo: Blaxploitation films. Martin Van Peebles used the favor he curried in the community from the 1970 release of satirical comedy The Watermelon Man to independently finance his film Sweetback i.e. the first X-Rated film (by white standards) in the US. On its heels came Gordon Parks' seminal classic Shaft and his sons' own directorial triumph Super Fly. Each of these movies cemented the Black man as a tour de force in cinema breaking out of the reductive mold that Hollywood pigeonholed them in for not fitting the archetypes set forth by Sidney Poitier and Harry Belafonte.
Chapter 12: Black women had their own Renaissance during the 70s. Lena Horne and Diana Sands attempted to crossover in the years before, however, they were barred by Hollywood's white ceiling. Though there was some acclaim and commercial success they were never able to definitely step outside of the racial constrictions of the time. Becoming increasingly disenchanted with film, Lena Horne focused on other exploits. Conversely, Diana Sands persevered only to die relatively young, robbed of the opportunity to breakout further. Pam Grier emerged as the Blaxploitation queen after her talents made her stand out in the schlocky, cheap pictures she debuted in. Going on to make movies like Coffy and Foxy Brown cemented her status in Black households. She was certified a Hollywood icon by the community at large (ie white, mainstream audiences and critics) after cinephile Quentin Tarantino used his Hollywood influence to write 1997's Jackie Brown just for her as a way of expressing his admiration for her acting expertise.
Chapter 13: flashback to the 1973 Oscar's when Marlon Brando sent Sacheen Littlefeather to decline the award in his stead as a way of protesting the general mistreatment of Native Americans by Hollywood in film and in the wake of the standoff at Wounded Knee; not to make this about me/us but this aside doesn't seem necessary given this is a book about Black people in film?, I can see the point Haygood is making about how Hollywood has a storied history of misrepresenting all minorities but two pages on it doesn't seem like enough time to have a real go at exploring this, it feels like it was included to remain consistent formatting wise as there are other flashbacks rather than because it was something Haygood felt needed to be included/touched on
Chapter 14: History of Motown movies rise and near immediate fall. Berry Gordy encouraged Black people to raise their standards in regards to depiction on the big screen and finances (ie budget constraints) but he ultimately failed in creating a movie making empire the same way he did music. He succeeded in making Billy Dee Williams a household name in the Black community, however, it was a bittersweet victory as Billy Dee was never able to garner the same level of respect he deserved as an actor after Motown Movies folded due to Hollywood largely viewing the whole venture even when it did make money as exceptions rather than evidence Billy Dee could fill seats.
Chapter 15: encompasses the phenomena that was Roots, further solidifies how tv was more progressive than Old Hollywood as even after all the success offers for roles didn't come pouring in except for the white actors and only a few of the Black cast and those that did still only got them from TV spots
Chapter 16: covers the rise of Spike Lee one of the most impactful directors of the latter half of the 20th century and his magnum opus Malcolm X which was snubbed by the Academy, despite how far we've supposedly come we've still remained bogged down by racist exceptionalist thought patterns that deem our successes one offs and flukes even decades after our triumphs have been well documented, Sidney Poitier remained the only Black man to receive a Best Actor Academy Award until 2001 nearly 40 years after he won, Denzel Washington's arrival on the scene is detailed in order to establish how trailblazing he has been in the community and how that reflected in Black people's excitement for Malcolm X the movie
Chapter 17: the uptick in Black representation in film stalled as time progressed, moving into the 80s and 90s regardless of any social progress Black people did actually gain the level of progress espoused was far higher than it was in practice meaning as soon as Hollywood could get away with it they reverted to a white boys club mentality barring Black filmmakers from entering the same way Black actors and actresses always had been, going back to Spike Lee a huge part of his success was his ability to independently raise funds at crucial junctures allowing for control over some of the most important parts of the process and having to argue with big studios mostly when it came to finding distributors because their financial backings were minimal comparatively, in this new age Black filmmakers were once more attempting to break into white Hollywood and thus white Hollywood was allowed to dictate everything meaning that few chances were given and of those chances it was still rare to see a success as measured by white Hollywood's prejudice, conservative standards, and failing once as Black filmmaker (look at Love Jones) means you're basically blackballed as in their eyes you're lucky they gave you the once chance and you 'squandered' it
Chapter 18: interlude covering the Oscars when Denzel won for Training Day and Halle Berry made history for winning best actress
Chapter 19: entering the modern era ie the 2010s, continues the shift towards discussion Black filmmaking as a process and Black subject matter in film as a reflection of public sentiment at the time vs Black film stars
Chapter 20 and 21: Endless reiteration of how we were ignored at the Oscars for like 3 or 4 years straight, it's boring and redundant
Around the halfway point I started to feel my enjoyment flag. Eventually I came to the conclusion that my lack of interest stemmed from the dawning realization this book had no commentary to offer on its own. It works well when/if you don't know a lot about the time period which for me was when it predated the 80s. Once it started to get into movie periods I was familiar with its lack of depth became apparent. It bypasses discussion of many prominent Black actors who didn't have crossover appeal, but had success in the community or the discussion of how such a phenomena can occur because Haygood completely skims the successful independent (ie direct to DVD) 90s to early 2000s era. He doesn't discuss the Wayans Brothers nor does he talk about the comedian to actor or rapper to actor pipeline. In general, he completely drops the ball on Black women after moving out of the Blaxploitation era.
It feels like he ignored a lot of things that might harm his overall point that Hollywood is a racist industry which like a few positives doesn’t absolve a few thousand negatives, but that’s the best reason I could come up with for why he didn't include certain information.
If you don’t know a lot about Black film then you could get a lot out of this. If you are somewhat aware like I am then you’ll only get what parts out of it you don’t already know. It doesn’t give you any additional understanding or wisdom.
I keep wrestling with how to do this book justice to demonstrate how immensely amazing, and what a phenomenal educational resource it is. Wil Haygood's book doesn't simply chronicle the history of the beginnings of Hollywood and how Black performers struggled to gain acceptance in mainstream roles. It starts, with one of the most important places, the reader wouldn't think--former president of the United States, Woodrow Wilson. A down-home country boy from Virginia, he grew up being taught in high school by white male teachers, some of whom had fought for the Confederacy, and were proud of it. The book talks about how this shaped Wilson's worldview. When he got to Yale, he made BFF best friends with a guy you might have heard of named Thomas "I love the Klan" Dixon Jr., best-known for his abominable, white supremacist, Klan-worshipping book, Life of a Clansman. Woodie and Tommy became the best of chums and stayed in touch. So much so, that when Tommy told Woodrow Wilson about this other young upstart he admired, a fellow you may also have heard of by the name of DW "I am a white supremacist and proud of it" Griffith. Of course, Griffith adapted Life of a Clansman and turned it into the horrific abomination that is Birth of a Nation, which came out around 1914 or 15. This answers the question for those wondering why Birth of a Nation was screened at the White House and why Wilson was a 'huge fan' of the film.
Author Haygood also provides historical evidence that when white people walked out of the theatre seeing this abomination of a Klan-worshipping film that casts the murderous and racist Klan as the 'heroes,' moviegoers said it made them want to commit violence against Black people. They already had these kinds of thoughts and impulses in their minds, but that film... if someone has done a study to measure the rise in racialized violence against Black people from white assailants and murderers, I think that would be hugely important and would definitely show the correlation between the upswing in violence towards Black people as well as the time of the revival of the second iteration of the Ku Klux Klan (for those who don't know, the first one was formed in one of the most racist parts of Tennessee right after the Civil War, and the second one emerged again around the early 20th century).
There are also profiles of famous Black stars like Hattie McDaniel and Sidney Poitier, as well as stories about how Lena Horne's father fought to try to get her more recognition. There are discussions about the Hays code, about interracial kisses being 'forbidden,' and about how this affected discrimination against Black performers for countless years. And yes, there is the famous story about how Clark Gable had to tell the racist Oscar showrunners and producers and Academy that unless they allowed Hattie McDaniel to attend the Oscars ceremony for her nomination as Best Supporting Actress for Gone with the Wind, that Gable himself would withdraw, which is the only thing that changed their minds and they "let" McDaniel attend, but still forced her to sit in segregated seating. McDaniel hoped that after her historic Oscar win that it would lead to less stereotypical roles and racial caricatures like Mammy. She had the cognitive dissonance of understanding that these roles reinforced stereotypical beliefs that white Americans and filmgoers around the world had about Black people, but fought back with frustration, asserting that these were the only roles Hollywood would cast her in. Hollywood only wanted to see Black women in the roles of Mammy, an enslaved woman, or a domestic. Unfortunately for McDaniel, the roles that did become available after her Oscar win were more of the same stereotype-reinforcing material, like the television show Beulah.
The book goes into further detail about the Blaxploitation era of the 1970s, and focuses more on the historical parts of the film industry although it does discuss more modern films and filmmakers like Spike Lee.
Overall, it is one of the absolute best and most informative books I have read about the history of Black films within Hollywood and all the racist justifications used to keep Black performers down, or to shut them out from succeeding, or once they did succeed, to show them nothing but resentment, or in the case of Sidney Poitier, deluging him with white affirmations that he was "one of the good ones" and why couldn't more people "of his race" be like him. This book should be on the shelf of anyone who is a film buff, history buff, and interested deeply in the subject matter. It's written in accessible language which makes it a good choice for both public library patrons as well as academic.
This is one of the most thoroughly engrossing books I've ever read! Wil Haygood has crafted a work of eye-opening brilliance that will make even the most knowledgeable of cinephiles jaws drop.
Whether you're a fan of the history of cinema or just a fan of American history in general, then this book is for you!
American cinema as we know it would not be what it is today without a "hundred years of black films" and the men and women, like Oscar Micheaux, Hattie McDaniel, and yes, even Sidney Poitier, who suffered and endeared years of hate, heartache and failure in order to pave the way for the likes of Spike Lee, Pamela Grier and others.
This should be required reading in any History of Film 101 class. And if you live in Florida, hurry up and order this book online somewhere because Governor DeSantis' HB 1069 will surely be adding this to their list of books to ban soon enough.
This was an interesting, remarkable, and searing book about black cinema struggles. Beginning with the shocking impact of Birth of a Nation. I found the book very well researched, a detailed history of black filmmaking with photographs, illustrations, and notes. I enjoyed reading about historical figures and different details from movie plots. This was very informative and I shared it with my audience for one of my November nonfiction recommendations.
This history of black film becomes a lens through which we can see our country’s history of racism more clearly. The book depicts how the film world both mirrors and fuels systemic racism and implicit bias, but also celebrates the artistic contributions of black artists in an industry stacked against them. I’ve added many new film titles to my watch list!
With another Oscars season upon us, the systematic lack of nominations and wins for Black film folks comes under scrutiny again. The Black artists have fared better lately, but only via lots of pressure from the greater society, though Hollywood continues to be tone deaf in many ways. Other ethnic groups continue to scrap their way into key positions in film, despite the efforts of the criminally stupid supporters of the convict-to-be leading their madness.
This book needs to be essential reading for anyone who enjoys film and considers themselves film buffs. Haygood dives deep into the history of Black American filmmaking (mostly - there are a few touches on Black French & British)filmmakers), providing much needed history on the importance of Black contributions to Hollywood - while also bringing to light the insidious racism that is fundamental to Hollywood. And, of course, continues to be. Oscar Micheaux should be acknowledged and learned about as fundamental in basic film studies. I’m hoping this book is picked up by everyone who loves film as much as myself, and educates them on the innumerable Black men and women who (white) history has refused to celebrate. As someone who thought I knew a decent amount about Black film, I am humbled to have been proven wrong by Mr. Haygood - and happy to have learned so much more.
Historical treatise on Black film that amalgamates Black struggles and successes in Hollywood with the socio-political structure of each era from 1920-2020.
While the book's trajectory is not exclusively linear, the intersections of film production and historical events is a grounding context that clarifies those too young to remember and crystallizes for those who do.
Readers may have to get through some heavy events and subject matter, but if you're picking up this book, I assume you're already expecting that. There are places I wish the book would add a bit more depth in analysis, rather than just report facts, but given the historical perspective of the book that is to be expected.
Great read. pick it up if you see interested in film, race relations, Sociology or history.
While it contained some factual inaccuracies, this is a compelling look at the roles and access black directors,producers, writers and actors had in the Hollywood film industries. It is not too much of a spoiler to say the journey of Blacks in film is 1 step forward and 7 steps back. The behind the scenes stories of the blaxploitation era, the arrival of Spike Lee and the recent, for lack of a better word, renaissance of black stories in film proves fascinating.
Perhaps too positive as it details the last ten years simply by needing a note to end on, and struggling with how in depth to go when discussing 100 years of film history, Colorized, as an impossible task, gracefully skims through hundreds of tragedies, successes, and films to get to a stunning final note.
As an ancient cinephile my movie memories are rich and long and the Black cinema is a cherished part of those memories. There is the slap by Sidney Poitier's Virgil Tibbs that made us gasp; Smiling our way through Spike Lee's inaugural outing, She's Gotta Have It (we were the only white people in the theater); The echo of Denzel Washington's voice in Malcolm X; Falling in love with Samuel L. Jackson (even in bad movies); and Cheering the Black Panther and the woman warriors: Foxy Brown and Harriet. Wil Haygood's new and important book about the history of the movies and African Americans revived my memories and gave me a sharper focus on the sober reality and triumph of the Black Cinema. African Americans compose 12% of the population and 30% of American film goers. Sadly, too often African Americans have always been, and remain, ill-served by the movie industry. In its infancy, Hollywood gave us D.W. Griffth's cinemagraphically revolutionary, racist Birth of A Nation, a film that made the KKK the saviors of good white folk threatened by dangerous Black men bent on raping white women. The millions of people who saw this film were shown people in black face who were more monkey than men and unfit for civilized society. (Decades later at NYU, future film directors Spike Lee and Ernest Dickerson watched their clueless white classmates extol the cinematic virtues of DW 's silent "masterpiece.") Early on, on those few occasions African-American actors were allowed to appear on screen, they played maids, mammies, and chauffeurs, if not fools and villains. Hollywood's decision makers often shared those racist prejudices and reflected their bigotry in the films they made. Even those liberally inclined moguls feared the Southern box office into the second half of the 20th century. Haywood stresses Hollywood's refusal to accord Black filmmakers and performers the same opportunities available to white men and women. Black films (often directed by white men) and Blaxplotation films flourished in the late 60's and '70's, but opportunities again declined under the conservative era that followed under President Regan. Despite recent successes, "Oscar is still so white." Employment of minority (and female) in all sectors of the film industry remain inequitable. Wil Haygood takes on the relationship between Movies and African Americans with passion and knowledge, framing that history in the context of American race relations and the struggle for civil rights. His book is an engaging, inspiring, and infuriating read about the people who had the courage to challenge Hollywood to tell the stories of Black America from pioneer filmmaker Oscar Micheaux who contested Griffith's vile depiction of African America to game changing filmmakers like Barry Jenkins. Our diverse films now appeal to global film audiences. I share Haygood's disdain of the Motion Picture Academy, a bastion of old white males who have robbed Spike Lee more than once (This put Lee in the company of Cary Grant and Alfred Hitchcock.) Haygood's discussion of the painful treatment of Black actresses is sympathetic and solid, but I was disappointed by the scant time given to the (admittedly few) Black women film directors. He does spent time on Ave DuVernay, but Julie Dash's only film, the extraordinary and visually stunning Daughters of the Dust went unmentioned and Kasi Lemmons' career is limited to a brief mention of her acclaimed Harriet Tubman bio-epic. His also misses an opportunity to elaborate on the near total absence of Black cowboys in the movies. His final chapter does end on a brilliant note. Haygood finishes with the power of Black images: a single 19th century still photograph and two videos shot by contemporary cellphone users. These images shame Hollywood which, for all its visual powers, has too often passed on both the tragedy or beauty of Black lives. The book also lets us celebrate the people and the films that defied Hollywood's color barrier. For me this is a welcome study that reminds me that film's great gifts remain the power of film to capture the universal humanity of specific lives and to let us simply have a good time together in Wakanda, Brooklyn. and The Star Wars universe.
I attended a talk Wil Haygood and director Robert Townsend gave at the Lincoln Theatre in Columbus, Ohio and got my book signed. Haygood is an intelligent and kind man who loves his hometown.
While well-intentioned and interesting, this kaleidoscopic probe into Black American cinema at times goes off in too many irrelevant directions (i.e., chronicling touchstones like fashion and music. In so doing, Haygood nearly forgets his book is about celluloid -- not about treble clefs or cleavage). But his narrative does effectively hold up a movie screen as a metaphorical mirror to America and America's many glaring contradictions. COLORIZATION is by turns stimulating and frustrating. Haygood leaves out the trailblazing efforts of Eddie Murphy; gives short-shrift to Richard Pryor and devotes much space to a discussion of ROOTS. But ROOTS was on television -- not film! An entire book could be (and should be) written about the Black experience vis-a-vis TV. Unfortunately, COLORIZATION gets way too wrapped up in its subject to be a totally effective read. Lights. Camera. Inaction.
This was a really enjoyable and interesting book. I knew about some of the things mentioned here - I've heard of Birth of a Nation and Gone With the Wind and a bit about blaxploitation and #OscarsSoWhite. But there was plenty of stuff I'm not familiar with, such as Oscar Micheaux. And even with the topics I am familiar with, there was plenty I hadn't heard of before. I especially enjoyed the discussion of Boston's reaction to Birth of a Nation since it's literally close to home for me. Haygood does a great job diving deeply into his subject matter. When a film is based on a book, he'll trace the life of the author of that book and how it came to the attention of Hollywood. He similarly recounts the life stories of actors and directors, showing their roots and placing them strongly in the larger historical context.
A lot of my reaction to the book is a frustration with how the more things change, the more things stay the same. The last chapter is perhaps the most powerful exploration of this, tracing a direct link between a Civil War era photograph of the whipping scars of a former slave and the current videos of police brutality and murder that have rightly sparked massive protests. (In fact, it's the power of this final chapter that elevated the book from three to four stars for me.) Throughout the book, it's clear that strides forward and progress have been made, but there are always more steps. The discussions of the Oscars of the past decade also show this - yes, hooray, black actors, directors, and other creatives are getting some recognition, but the multiple years of all white Oscars occurred with a black woman as the president of the Academy and the handful of wins don't outweigh the century of whites winning everything.
I've definitely been left with a lot to consider and a number of films I need to watch at some point. This was an excellent book and I'm very glad I picked it up. I feel like while the main focus is specifically on film, I've learned a lot about black culture in the past century and that I'm a better person for having been exposed to this part of cultural history.
Entertaining view of history. I especially enjoyed the section on pioneer filmmaker Oscar Micheaux who responded in film to D.W. Griffith's cinematic racism in The Birth of the Nation with silent films of his own. Haygood is a little fixated on the increasingly irrelevant Academy Award and "serious" films, giving short shift to the action and comedy. Eddie Murphy and Will Smith don't take up much page space, and there is barely a mention of the work of successful filmmakers like Antoine Fuqua and Tim Story. The funniest gaffe in the book is a reference to "inner city drive-ins" (did he mean "grindhouses"?) And his take on all contemporary news stories sound like the spin from MSNBC. Still, well worth the read.
This was a fascinating look at the intersections of black films about black characters, how white films have portrayed black characters, and how Hollywood, racism, and civil rights have intertwined over the past 100 years.
I learned about so many films I never heard about and gained a deeper understanding about why certain movies and certain awards meant so much to so many. I also learned that several people I had herd of vaguely actually were in movies.
This book is a reminder about why we need to really look at our institutions and explore who is marginalized, who is being kept out, and what stories are not being awarded (or even deeper what stories are not being allowed to be told in the first place)
A book about the history of Black filmmaking from the beginnings of cinema. The author skillfully weaves in civil rights and what was going on in American society at the time all these films were being made. Lots of information and filmmakers I'd never heard of or knew about, and lots of interesting details about actors, directors and films I knew a bit about but not enough.
This book was so readable; it may look like a lot of pages but it flies by. One negative was the author's excessive (that is to say, more than zero) use of exclamation points. Editing fail. How hard is it to do a simple "replace all" to remove them all? It made the book feel slightly amateurish.
One of those mixed-thoughts-and-feelings reviews. Film nerd that I am, I figured a book on a century of black film would be interesting and a good chunk of it was. However there's also a lot of real-world black history — segregation, the civil rights movement, white backlash, Obama — and that was more familiar to me. Obviously it's relevant but I'd have liked more film and less history. There's lots of stuff that could have been covered — Will Smith is barely mentioned, neither is Bill Cosby (vile as we know him to be in private life), and as he's covering TV, how about Deep Space Nine? I think Haygood does well on what he does cover but it didn't quite match my hopes.
A solid introduction to Black film history, and some good connections to what was happening in the U.S. at the time of the films discussed.
I found some striking holes in the narrative, though (a mere mention of Julie Dash on 1 page, and not a word about the L.A. Rebellion, for example), and found the writing disjointed and cliched at times.
Good for those just beginning to delve into this area, but not so much for those wanting a deeper dive.
Sweeping overview of both black films and how blacks have been portrayed in films in Hollywood from the silent days up through Moonlight winning Best Picture. Also how careers of black stars were hampered or derailed by racism. Eye-opening and interesting book - a lot of information in a solid 400 page b0ok. Not an easy or fast read but very worthwhile. I'll be thinking about it long after reading it.
A dense and richly rewarding text about black representation in film history. Haygood does a wonderful job demonstrating how media was affected by the culture of the time and vice versa. I highly recommend this one for anyone who wants to go a lot further with their knowledge of film history and for anyone interested in black representation in media.