Blowing up our own spot!

I am not a Martin Lawrence fan. Never have been, probably never will be. I wasn't a fan even during the first two years of his show, when the stories made sens and before it devolved into a weekly minstrel spectacle. But, it was with an open mind and some expectations of laughter that I popped in the DVD for Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins. I do remember my highly sensitive coon–meter registering a few blips when the movie was in production and the title was revealed, but after the cast was announced, I decompressed and added it to my mental movie list.

The movie was entertaining; Mike Epps, Monique, and Green Mile (Michael Clark Duncan) provided some hardy and unexpected laughs and even Mr. Lawrence caused me to chortle and guffaw during several slapstickish scenes. The story was solid, if greatly predictable and the theme of "family" was Walton-esque and sufficiently cockle warming. But, throughout the movie, and especially at the end, sticking me in my conscious like a drunken tattoo artist, were characters who cursed at each other across the dinner table, cursed in front of their parents, and lastly Martin, who, in the supposedly triumphant scene at the end, ejects his gold-digging fiancé from his car with an enthusiastic "Bounce bitch,", which his son co-signs with a "Yeah dad!". I'm no prude but I know that this wouldn't fly with any non-movie family I know.

I confess, I am the first person to crack up at an expertly placed "Bitch" or "Bastard" in a screenplay but that is only when it's coming from the mouths of venomous villainous characters or anti-heroes who have more than a few issues. How many times have we seen a sister in a Black movie verbally abuse a brother to the point that the audience is audibly urging her to either shut up or urging the verbal abusee to slap her. Then, after she is inevitably slapped, punched, or worse, the audience erupts in cheers. The worst part is half or more than half of the cheering audiences are female. So then why are we surprised when we are out in public and here some teenager call an adult a "bitch" or when we hear parents calling their sometimes infant- aged children things that would make a marine blush? It's sad to, but the media has far too much influence on our self-image and somehow being disrespectful has come to represent keeping it real in terms of being Black. I know this is the tip of the tip of the iceberg, but when we have the chance to tell our own stories why we have to blow up our own spot? Feel me?

The Ghost of Diversity

If you want to get an idea of the ridiculous paucity of Black people working in a creative capacity in TV, an apt comparison would be if in the movie Horton Hears a Who, there was another smaller world on a speck of dust on the eyelash of one of the whos, who lived in that world, which was on the speck of dust that Horton, the elephant was carrying. Is it really that bad? Maybe not, but even on a good day, it sure seems like it.

Several years ago there was a call to arms by Black leaders (I know, ha ha!) who all of a sudden found media cachet by hollering about the lack of diversity in television. Why is there no diversity in the casts of these network shows? Why is there no diversity in the writer's room on these network shows? Why is there no diversity amongst the show runners and executive producers of these network TV shows? Suddenly, faster than a paparazzi flash bulb exploding in the faces of BeyonJay, all over Hollywood, diversity initiatives starting popping up like zits on a soda drinking teenager. There was a frenzy of excitement because it seemed like something significant was finally happening and for once being Black in the TV business was a good thing. But, of course, it was short lived and after a few people got some interviews and an even fewer number got actual jobs, the fervor for diversity exited the minds of TV power players as fast as it was forced in.

Sadly, but to the surprise of no one who pays attention to such things, TV is back to being whiter than bleached teeth and Black people interested in seeing someone who looks like them on the tube are now given the unbelievable choice of The Game, House of Payne, and Under One Roof, none of which anyone would call Must See TV and some would say they aren't even, Might-Maybe-Glance-at-Two-Seconds- of- a-Scene-TV. Doubly sad, in this age of watching TV on every device but a can opener, prospects for this wackness changing are slim and none and slim just got deported. I hate to end this post on such a Dick Cheney-esque darkly cynical note, but nobody's even talking about this issue anywhere any more. It's as if TV is American Idol and Black people wanting to work in creating and writing for TV ,are some off-key, clown-ass contestant who was sent home after he was told, "We'll see you next year for tryouts but know in advance, we aren't checking for you,"