Kenya Barris’s #blackAF Presents An Important Question About Black Creativity

In an interview at the 2017 Emmy Awards, Insecure writer, creator, and lead actress Issa Rae declared that she was “rooting for anybody black” to take home an award that night. Her comments resonated with a wave of Black creatives who were just starting to see their work break into the mainstream of TV and film. In recent years hit shows written, produced, and created by black people such as Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson’s and Courtney Kemp’s Power or Donald “Childish Gambino” Glover’s Atlanta, have become the modern-day cultural staples that have given black people a stronger sense of ownership in the entertainment industry. After generations of not having our voices heard, strong, intellectual black creators have flooded the industry with films, tv shows, and documentaries detailing stories centered around characters that look like us.

However, as we are now finding our place at the table, we are far from being recognized for our work. In the Oscar’s 90-year-old history, only 39 Black actors have won an award. The Emmys are no better with a little over 5% of its past winners being Black creatives. Hollywood has never been a favorable place to Black actors, producers, writers, or directors, with much of their work pushed to the wayside to give the spotlight to white media. So it is only natural to “root for anybody black” because it is a feat for a black person to even be considered for such high honors. However, Kenya Barris raises an important question in his new Netflix series #blackAF, where Barris plays himself in a mockumentary surrounding the life of the massively wealthy producer/writer’s family. In an episode, Barris and daughter Drea hold negative views about a movie created by a black director, contrary to the opinion of the public. The movie receives glowing reviews publicly but after talking to several people throughout the episode including high profile creators Issa Rae, Ava Duvernay, Lena Waithe, Tyler Perry, Will Packer, and Tim Story, Barris finds that he is not alone in his scathing review. However, conflict arises when Barris is asked to do a panel on the movie is confronted with the decision to openly critique the movie and lose favor with the Black community or support the movie and allow mediocrity to shine so long as it’s Black. Ultimately he decides to openly critique the movie, losing favor with much of his black fan base. This episode struck a chord with me as I thought of all the black content that I, and other Black people, willingly support despite believing that they are mediocre. Are we inherently hindering our own progress by allowing any and all Black creatives to create?

If we were to ask this question some odd 60 years ago, the answer would be a resounding no. The world our parents and grandparents were raised in was so white that just a dash of blackness in the media was enough to cause mass hysteria. The Blaxploitation films of the 70s showcased the lives of impoverished Black people and allowed this part of our culture to be accepted into widespread media. However, these stories were no more than glorified versions of the hard truths and did nothing to look at the systematic structures that made these truths exist. Largely created by white people, these films were the only jobs Black actors and actresses could get at the time. They also presented a picture of the Black experience to America that portrayed Black men as thugs and inherently violent and Black women as overtly sexual scapegoats. A greater need for Black people creating, producing, and participating in their own stories heightened since the days of blaxploitation. Directors, producers, and writers like Spike Lee, Tyler Perry, and many others created films and TV programs that told varying stories of the Black experience. The Black sitcom helped change the negative portrayal of Black people in the media. Shows like Living Single and The Bill Cosby Show gave Americans a picture of Black families that were not impacted by drug addiction, violence, or poverty. The affluent Black family became as widespread as the Black thug or prostitute and a more nuanced look at the Black experience started to take place.

Today, we have more Black programs and films than ever. While strides still have to be made, Black creatives are appearing more in Hollywood and given more ownership over the Black narratives that are produced. Coupled with the recently constructed Tyler Perry Studios, which has produced the blockbuster Bad Boys 3 and is currently producing Coming 2 America, Black creatives are slowly but surely headed in the direction of complete ownership outside of Hollywood. So I believe that the era of blindly supporting Black projects is over. Critique and praise are not mutually exclusive and I believe as we evolve into owning more of our projects, we should push for a more diverse conversation around what we produce. In #blackAF, Kenya Barris is alone as he struggles with this. His colleagues argue that criticizing one another’s work is counter-intuitive as Black people already have so much negativity from non-Black sources. However, this, what Barris argues, is why some Black creators are seen as good Black creators and some are seen as just good creators. Fear of critiquing our own work makes us no worse than the negativity we already receive. Giving out blind praise without room for critique to Black creators is essentially the equivalent of handing out participation awards.

Am I arguing that Black people make mediocre movies and TV shows? Far from. There is no such thing as a good or a bad movie or show, as all movies and shows are but a person’s perspective personified. But I am arguing that public dislike or disdain over a Black program does not discredit the praise for that creator even being able to make a movie or show about a Black experience. As we as a people continue to diversify the perception of Black people in the media, we must also engage actively in discussion and discourse to push others to be better.