Same Old, Same Old

There are no overt lessons taught, no gifts imparted save that of one brother‘s love for “the other.” The relationship is given human scope and dynamics -- a radical approach. Almost as shocking is the fact that both men are dark-skinned, with neither possessing the looks of a conventional leading man. This means there is no contrived battle of authenticity based on features or skin tone; coloring in Ghost Dog doesn’t prove or disprove “realness.” White people exist, but are not at the core of the story, not at the core of the titular character‘s existence. Sort of the way most black folk actually live in relation to white folk.

Hollywood’s recent efforts around race are largely rooted in anxiety, same as it ever was. Black folk are still in service to whiteness, only now it‘s called multiculturalism and colorblind friendship. Since white folk’s anxiety has to be quelled, familiar representations of blackness are being dusted off and given a retooled soundtrack, and it‘s all good, yo. In truth, it’s containment passed off as celebration. These days, to shop and fuck across a Benetton rainbow of options is what passes for relevant, even progressive American cinema. But it‘s the same tired tropes, the same old song and dance that are really being sold. There’s just no more music in that shuffle.