Catalogue
introduction
Here in the climate of Australia's white Anglo culture, Blaxploitation
still exists as a fuzzy term which conjures up vague caricatures of
African-Americans dressed wildly, driving Cadiallacs and shooting up
people to the sound of wah-wah guitars. In a sense, that's exactly what
Blaxploitation is. The point is whether you can comprehend the purpose
and power of such imagery.
Blaxploitation
films are action-based, flaunt outrageous racial stereotypes (black,
white, Hispanic & Italian), drive a cut-throat morality, promote
sexual and violent titillation, and joyously thrust their vulgarity
in your face. Quite precisely, they are 'funky' . But let's be clear
on what 'funky' means. It's major vernacular line is to be found in
turn-of-the century references to food - recipes based on bringing together
a wide range of elements to create an overwhelming mix of flavours and
fragrances, wherein the richness of the food in enjoyed for its headiness
and its flagrant absence of purity and subtlety.
Afro-American
slang pushed this notion in the 60s, when streams of black consciousness
where surfacing to shape an outward and defiant 'blackness' in opposition
to white Eurocentric ideals of form, substance and lineage. 'Funky'
by the late 60s meant loud, colourful, sassy, bold, excessive, extreme,
impure, vulgar. And proudly so. Black music and black fashion became
the prime conveyers of this sensibility, and directly instigated and
influenced most major traits we now associate with 70s style. (Most
70s fashion is actually retro-40s style exaggerated in mimicry of Black
culture's penchant for loudness and brashness.)
Blaxploitation
was originally a term of derision and scorn - championed mostly by elitist
(white) film critics in the 70s for whom the explosive dynamism and
outrageous tone of films aimed directly at urban Afro-American audiences
was somehow politically incorrect. The term was intended as a witty
pun (how unfunky) to suggest - erroneously - that blacks were being
exploited by these films, as if they were a mindless mass who needed
to become attuned to do-good house-Negro white bread dross like A RAISIN
IN THE SUN and GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER.
A
scant survey of working black directors through the 70s finds many of
them joyously delivering Blaxploitation flicks to an appreciative yet
ultimately segregated audience - the size of which only irritated purist
critics further. Furthermore, independent Afro-American cinema has thrived
since the early 1930s as a 'race market' along side the more-readily
acknowledged fields of blues, jazz, soul & funk music - a realm
created through the formation of regional urban independent record labels
mostly owned and run by blacks. Both in spite of and because of their
outwardly offensive iconography and mythology, the key Blaxploitation
films carry on this rigorously independent tradition and stand as powerful
examples of how options have always been explored outside the Hollywood
system.
History
has done little to illuminate the cinematic lineage and cultural importance
of Blaxploitation - despite the incisive commentaries that have been
delivered on the period and the genre by Spike Lee, Ice-T, Public Enemy,
Iceberg Slim and many others. 'Hip' journalists - who ten years ago
thought it was 'cool' to listen to Bob Marley but would never seriously
watch something like CLEOPATRA JONES AND THE CASINO OF GOLD - now make
jokes about SHAFT as if they are now in the know. But the root of Blaxploitation
is no laughing matter.
In
James Toback's FINGERS we find one of many gnarled roots caused by the
Blaxploitation effect. Neurotic Italo-Catholic Harvey Keitel finds himself
with none other than Jim Brown. In tight polyester hipsters and short-sleeved
shirt, pimp Brown seduces two of his hot white hookers, who in this
mysterious scene are melting in his arms. The action is prolonged, tense,
pornographic. Keitel watches nervously. At any moment, Brown is as likely
to bring them to orgasm as blow their brains out. Jim Brown is not simply
'the Other': he is a big black monster of unpredictability. His colour
gives no clue: he could be jolly-black, burly-black, angry-black, deadly-black.
In his most primal cinematic moment, Brown gives nothing away except
the potential for danger.
Virtually
all Blaxploitation films have this kind of moment. Violence erupts not
as catharsis or conclusion, but indiscriminately at the explosive nexus
between individual humiliation and social oppression. Blaxploitation
programmatically attempts to move beyond this problem zone - but it
is a reality to which it must return. This often-bleak mix of avoidance
and acceptance is the power that Blaxploitation wields: the power of
unpredictability. Nothing is more dangerous than the enemy you do not
know. Like the unnerving Jim Brown, the films keep themselves in genre-check,
only to erupt in an orgy of sex, violence and perverse humour. When
a trio of foxy ladies slice up the genitals of a white Mafia dude in
DOLEMITE, it starts off funny. But they keep going at it with extreme
relish. Then Rudy Ray Moore all but spits on him as he bleeds to death.
It ain't funny. The staging and the performances are cheap - the very
kind of cheapness that liberal audiences use to distance themselves
from the fetid network of frustration and injustice which forms the
root structure underneath Blaxploitation cinema.
Concerned
cultural strategists wish for the even distribution of self-empowerment
- but usually under terms of protocol and propriety. Blaxploitation
cinema is one of the rare examples of a culture being engaged in abject,
irresponsible, contradictory and aggressive image-making. Every outrageously
clothed pimp is an impression of the iconic implausibility of black
self-improvement. Every gun blast is an echo of the sound of a car door
being locked as a black man nears a white in his sedan. Even 'respected'
African-American directors like Spike Lee, Charles Burnett and Carl
Franklin acknowledge this in their interloping of confounding amoral
threads within their humanist constructions. Ultimately, Blaxploitation
is less written and controlled; more spoken and unleashed. It is vernacular,
vocal, loud-mouthed, out-spoken. As the dictionary puts it in italics:
vulgar.