African-American Filmmakers Ignore Total Black Experience

This may sound strange coming from an African-American who prides himself on being attuned to black culture, but Hollywood’s current infatuation with the latest crop of young black filmmakers bothers me.

Sure, I know films like “Boyz N the Hood,” “Jungle Fever,” “New Jack City” and “Straight Out of Brooklyn” garner rave reviews for “telling it like it is” about inner-city realities.

But this is the problem. The films feed largely on the abysmal lack of understanding of black life by most whites. Worse, they trade on and reinforce many of the same stereotypes of young blacks that pervade much of the media and are nurtured by a legion of sociological reports and studies on “the crisis of the black family.”

By now we’re well acquainted with them. Young blacks are: dope dealers, hustlers, con artists, gang members or just plain derelict. Nearly all live in drug-infested, violence-ravaged projects and tenements and are products of broken homes.

But this jaundiced view of black life, captured so graphically by the young black filmmakers, rests on well-worn myths. So let’s explode them.

The majority of young blacks do not drop out of high school and aimlessly drift the streets looking to score the next dope deal or commit a robbery. For every black youth who drops out, five more graduate. According to the Urban League, in 1989 76.4% of young blacks completed high school and more than 40% of them attended college. Even more heartening, there has been a spectacular surge in the numbers of young blacks at black colleges.

Also, the majority of young blacks who drop out do so not to pursue criminal lifestyles but because of family need or the perceived lack of sensitivity by teachers and administrators. A 1985 Yale study found that most black dropouts still believe that education is a means of career or life enhancement.

While it is certainly true that poverty and unemployment have taken a fearful toll on black youth, the monthly Bureau of Labor employment surveys indicate that nearly two out of three young blacks hold legitimate jobs. Like young whites, young blacks eagerly scramble for jobs at the Burger Kings, McDonald’ses, local department stores and any other place that will hire them.

Now let’s take crime. Here, the young black filmmakers do give us a little bit of truth. But only a little bit. Yes, young blacks do commit their fair share of crime and violence. The disproportionately high murder, arrest and imprisonment rates among blacks offer stark testament to this.

But let’s come at it from another angle. The Sentencing Project, which compiles crime and arrest figures, notes that three out of four young African-Americans have not been arrested or jailed. The young black filmmakers ignore the reality that most young blacks know the dangers of the street, and they want no part of them. In their quiet pursuit of educational and professional excellence, often against great odds and temptations, these young blacks have equally compelling stories that beg to be told.

So I ask, where are the films about them? Like the dope dealers and gang members, aren’t they also the “Boyz N the Hood”? Aren’t many of them “Straight Out of Brooklyn” too? And if, perchance, a young black filmmaker is bold and insightful enough to try to make a film about the positive strivings of his peers, would Hollywood support and promote it as being an equally realistic reflection of life in the “ ‘hood.”

Now don’t misunderstand me--I am not suggesting that ghetto crime, poverty and discrimination are not crisis problems that Hollywood and the young black filmmakers should not address. They have that right.

But just as Hollywood churns out films like “Drugstore Cowboy” that explore the seamy side of white youth culture, it also produces films like “Stand by Me” that contain uplifting messages of discovery and hope for young whites.

The one exception on television, at least, is the long-running “Cosby Show.” However, it remains just that: the exception. As an African-American, am I wrong to expect any less when it comes to black films?

Am I wrong to demand that Hollywood also allow black filmmakers the creative license to explore the full range of the black experience. This, of course, means the right to make wholesome films about black families that stay together and achieve in business, professions and the trades. These individuals are the true heroes who inspire and motivate their young black offspring to “do the right thing.”

These are indeed troubled times for many young blacks. They desperately need to see their successes and triumphs depicted on the screen, as often as they see their failures. If the young black filmmakers really want to get their story right, they must show them too.