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Under discussion:

Driving Miss Daisy  (1989)

The Shining  (1980)

The Preacher's Wife  (1996)

What Dreams May Come  (1998)

The Green Mile  (1999)

The Legend of Bagger Vance  (2000)

The Family Man  (2000)

The Matrix [Film Series]  Production Year

Radio  (2003)

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button  (2008)

The Secret Life of Bees  (2008)

Out of all the cinematic staples, the so-called “magical negro” is the worst to define and discuss due to it being the mother of all loaded terms. A catch-all phrase used to describe how African-Americans in film tend to be superhuman physically, spiritually or both, it’s currently in the midst of the pop cultural zeitgeist thanks to a crappy song and New Year’s faux-pas.

Anytime someone sees a black character used as a story tool in a film — in the case of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Queenie (Taraji P. Henson) originally didn’t exist in Fitzgerald’s story — there is a mild cry of “There! There! I see a magical negro in the distance! Yes! There!” One should wonder why Eric Roth deemed it necessary to suddenly introduce the character as a framing device for guiding the CGI Man-Child about, but that’s up to anyone who can be assed to sit through that three hour bore.

So, we’ve taken it upon ourselves—and in full expectation of the eventual backlash that will come from one friend of ours, Odienator at Big Media Vandalism—to deconstruct the favorite crutch of Stephen King, the Wachowski Brothers and whoever else has a problem understanding just what makes the worst stereotype the worst stereotype.

The “Morgan Freeman”
As Seen In: Bruce Almighty, Evan Almighty, The Shawshank Redemption
A controversial choice, sure, and quite possibly a lazy choice. But Morgan Freeman has so deeply inserted himself in our culture as the wise, old teacher that him playing a seductively raging pimp in Street Smart seems impossible. Yet his gravely, nurturing voice seems to soothe us into believing whatever he says. And for some reason, he’s now playing into the comfortable role that he’s been typecast as since Driving Miss Daisy–the wiry, coy helper who can do fine on his own, but decides to help the Lead instead. In a way, Freeman became unintentionally responsible for confusing any black actor in any role as falling under the “magic negro” cliché.

The Angel
As Seen In: The Family Man, The Legend of Bagger Vance, What Dreams May Come, The Preacher’s Wife

Every so often, a Successful White Guy finds himself with an overwhelming problem: his girlfriend left him, he’s too rich and successful, he realizes he’s Robin Williams. And lo, a loosely defined but altruistic Black Man will appear with unknown powers to set the S.W.G. straight. Sometimes, he’ll appear as Don Cheadle. Other times, he’ll be Will Smith, emerging from the woods and help you get your (golf) game back. And rarely, he’ll be Cuba Gooding, Jr. (and later Max von Sydow) or Denzel Washington, who’ll help you re-connect with your loved ones.

Best shown through the utter ridiculousness from Bagger Vance, The Angel provides a fresh start to our troubled lead character, who must pretend to have his angst quickly fixed by the folksy and whimsical lessons given by their winged friends. Ultimately, there’s a generic life lesson learned (”keep family close, don’t let work get in the way, learn golf”) that benefits both the Angel and the S.W.G. (and in case of Preacher’s Wife, Courtney Vance.)

The Innocent
As Seen In: The Green Mile, Radio

We’re pushing it with Radio here, but hold on. The Innocent is normally portrayed by a large, intimidating figure (Michael Clarke Duncan) or, if you’re Cuba Gooding Jr., a “full retard.” Everything is child-like to them and they’re incapable of controlling their own strength–or knowingly acting as if they have mental problems for critical acclaim. And they posses a great inner spirit that seems almost magical. Not to mention their sympathetic white friends (Tom Hanks, Ed Harris) feel pity for them based on their short-comings, but are won over by their child-like sympathy–and curing their tract infections.

The Teacher
As Seen In: The Matrix Trilogy, The Secret Life of Bees, The Shining

Whether they’re telling Keanu to free his mind, teaching Dakota Fanning about the blues and selling her precious honey, or demonstrating how to talk with your index finger–The Teacher is there. While the role could be played by anyone, here we’re given figures that seem to have all the knowledge in the world, yet all they can be is a foil to pass that onto another character–normally the dopey white guy or gal. As Spike Lee once asked, “How is it that black people have these powers but they use them for the benefit of white people?”

Under discussion:

Gran Torino  (2008)

Last month, on the opening day of Gran Torino, I went up to Lincoln Center to participate in a roundtable discussion about Clint Eastwood for a Film Comment podcast. Kevin B. Lee, who also participated in the roundtable, has since adapted the conversation into three video essays: one on Changeling (in which I am extremely quiet; I guess I was playing by the “if you have nothing nice to say…” rule); one on Gran Torino, and one (embedded above) on the look of Eastwood’s films, and particularly his use of light. I’m quiet in that last one, too, but in this case it’s because my knowledge of Eastwood’s filmography was brutally overmatched by that of the Film Society’s Evan Davis, Ed Gonzalez of Slant Magazine, Akiva Gottlieb of The Nation.

I’ve always had major problems with Eastwood’s work, but being part of the conversation made me excited about going back and watching some of his directorial efforts that I hadn’t seen, including The Bridges of Madison Country, which coincidentally ended up showing the weekend after we recorded the podcast on the WE network, where I gave it about four hours of my life, counting the frequent breaks for Rich Bride, Poor Bride promos. It was worth it.

Under discussion:

Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father  (2008)

Every time Kurt Kuenne’s Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father, my review of the film gets a new flood of angry comments. Since my analytical response to the documentary seems to be so thoroughly out of tune with the emotional responses of MSNBC viewers, I thought I’d excerpt from a few of these comments in order present the argument of the other side:

“Katrina ,
Your pure uttering of nonsense assures me that you yourself suffer of some form of illness. And I am not saying this as an insult. I truly believe you must be scarred or simply looking to rile up attention by being simple.” — michelle

“Can’t you see that Karina wrote an amateur minded article with the purpose of stirring up emotions? … Move on to a quality review, secure in your own ideas and inspirations.” — John

“I’m stunned at reading the the above “review”, - or that this film was even ‘reviewed’ at all by anyone…The basis for this film are horrid, the final outcome is unthinkable, and for YOU to criticize “how” it was made is beyond me. Just how many devoted friends to you have Karina?” — Judy

“I’m writing to Karina and I just want to say that people like you are what makes up the crazy in this world. I will say a prayer for you.” — tammy

Lessons learned: Documentaries shouldn’t be reviewed; film reviews shouldn’t ask you to question “your own ideas and inspirations”; my name is Katrina, and I am sick and mad because I tried to do my job, which I’ve always thought is not to assess a film’s merits based on how it made me feel, but on the choices made by the filmmaker, his/her degree of craft, and the quality of the finished product divorced of the maker’s noble intentions. I guess I was wrong!