I liked it, but it wasn’t what I expected. Due largely to the preview and this review, I thought the abuse scenes and the film in general were going to be more intense and overwhelming. Instead, Lee Daniels showed some restraint in depicting verbal, physical, and sexual abuse. Of course, Precious’ circumstances were dire and extreme, but the director didn’t take the reactionary attitude that more graphic equals more artistically effective.
The voiceover narration gave the audience some insight into Precious’ character. We didn’t relate to her only with pity; we saw her as resourceful, imaginative, and courageous.
The aspect of the film that has generated the most debate is the politics of it:
Was it good for the Jews? Probably I’m the only person in the universe who noticed this, but a couple of the characters in the film had Jewish surnames (the principal, Ms. Lichtenstein, and debatably Mariah Carey’s character, whose last name was Weiss). The character of the principal says so much about black-Jewish relations in this country in remarkably little time: the principal wants to help, but because of the class divide between Precious and her, she has no idea what’s really going on.
Also, the depiction of homosexuality is almost cartoonishly positive. The representation might be a showy kind of “tolerance,” but at least it’s not a negative stereotype or total omission.
Is it good for black people? Obviously I have the somewhat distanced perspective of a white person, but I liked the race politics of the film. Some criticism of the film argues that Precious equates blackness with suffering, but some of the minor characters—Ms. Rain the teacher, Precious’ classmates—seemed to have stable, happy lives. Ms. Rain in particular had a middle-class income and an education, proving that blackness does not equal destitution. The film promotes the view of blackness that I take: black people are individuals and their experiences of blackness are individuated. There are areas of overlap in individual black experiences, but there is no uniformity. Precious had a particularly harsh experience of blackness—and life—that rarely makes it to the big screen.
Why can’t a happy, successful black woman be a movie protagonist? First, I want to point out that the situation is hardly better for white women on screen: they can be successful and miserable or neither. Maybe this is naive of me, especially considering the tradition of “ghetto comedies,” but I think that bigger problems lead to bigger drama. Struggle and suffering are cinematic.
For what it’s worth, buying a ticket to a film whose cast and production team is majority black sends a message to the film industry. I think it’s worth the money and time.
Your thoughts?
DINNER: a lentil-rice pilaf with spiced, baked fennel and tomatoes
“Mr Obama had told his audience that he was a “big supporter of non-censorship”, and that unrestricted internet access was a “source of strength” that should be encouraged.” —
“Summit Talks for Obama in Beijing,” BBC News
Remember this one the next time someone tells you that liberals have no spine.
Another choice cut from my grandmother, said to my mother: “Don’t order the salad. You’re here to eat, not to play.”
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Henry Louis Gates relates the story of a group of black high school students in North Carolina who, dismayed over the rigidity of standardized achievement tests, devised one more to their own liking. They convinced a group of employees at publisher McGraw-Hill to take this exam, and these custodians of the written word all received Cs and Ds.
A typical question: “Who is buried in Grant’s tomb?” The correct answer, the Harvard scholar tell us is “Your mama.” Gates, in his characteristically dry manner, adds: “It is difficult to explain why this response is so funny.”
” — an excerpt of The Birth (and Death) of the Cool
[video]
Michelle Obama on Sesame Street! It's heart-burstingly cute.
This makes me feel a million years old. Now what will 17-year-old Arianna dream of?
(via britticisms)
Thank you, Jezebel commenters, for this out-of-nowhere reference