One of the funnier segments of Paul Beatty’s Slumberland was when he knocked the type of Black authors that wrote popular books for being married to white women in their personal lives while having Black wags for their fictional doppelgangers.
I got a big kick out of that one because one of my buddies recently wrote a relatively popular book with, of course, a lead Black female love interest yet in his own life…
So anyway, cheap racist bastard that I am and not sure I was ready to rock with Jordan Peele’s interracial love politics – he himself being married to a white woman – I waited till his hit movie, Get Out, made it’s appearance online.
My official reception is that it was a good movie, but to let this one go with a purely merit-based review would be like saying that Beyonce fans liked Lemonade.
So, if we’re to take things literally, then Get Out is just the story of one fucked up family with ulterior motives behind the enthusiasm over a daughter that dates some nigga.
However – and I’m not gonna play spoiler – as it becomes clear that our hero Chris, played by Daniel Kaluuya, is only one of the niggas that said daughter has dated, what we’re left to deduce is a commentary on Mr. Peele’s belief in the ease with which white women can get niggas.
These are relatively good looking niggas too, if I may be one to judge.
Also it’s a horror movie about interracial dating.
That, in itself, says something.
As I’ve personally noted before, it rarely seems to be the absolute Top of the Line nigga that’s into white girls.
Oh no, that nigga’s way to into himself.
He doesn’t need to feel – like the average nigga does – that he’s only better than other niggas; he feels he’s better than everybody.
That’s why while they’re at the top of their games, you rarely see a Michael Jordan or Eddie Murphy-type with a white chick.
Nah, they wait till they’re geezers to start doing that.
So it’s usually the also-rans, the men next to the men; the Barkleys the, well, Jordan Peele’s, that go for white girls from the door.
And, of course, because this is fiction and no one, save maybe Woody Allen, makes his fictional doppelganger, weirder, goofier, weaker, more cowardly or dumber than his actual self, it was no surprise to see that the biracial Mr. Peele chose a jet-black nigga as his depicted image here.
Unable to be ignored too is, of course, the whole notion of brainwashing.
Niggas are so susceptible to brainwashing.
Implied, of course, is that that’s the literal trick; either white chicks actually hypnotize niggas or Western Civ has beat them to it, and we’re pre-putty in their porcelain hands.
Well done, I think, was the fact that the voided housekeeper, played by Betty Gabriel, had a genuine Soul Sister pre-hypnosis persona that we only see in a pic and that true friendship, like Chris’ with Rod – played by LilRel Howery – trumped even the black hole-like gravitation draw of white womanhood.
Still, this was an interesting if not outright bizarre movie for a man involved in an interracial marriage to make.
One might have expected this as a propaganda film for the old Nation of Islam.
As it is, I foresee some marriage counseling in Mr. Peele’s future.