The epiphany for this blog post came to me during my long commute home. I watch a considerable amount of tv and film. Only a small portion of what I watch is captured on my blog. Those are the tv shows or films that stirred something in me that I had to write about them. This aggregate post is for the shows and films that I watched, I want to talk about, but I don’t feel compelled to commit a whole blog post of the 1500-3000 word variety.

The Lunchbox (2013)

Premise: Set in India, a housewife’s lunch box for her husband mistakenly ends up at the desk of soon-to-be retired, widower. Through this happy accident, they exchange letters and learn about each other, sparking them on a journey of self-discovery. 

This film reminded me again why I need to stop sleeping on non-US/Western-based films. They are always a surprising, delightful, and subtle journey. In my youth, I cut my teeth on indie films which tend to focus more on the acting and the story. International movies, at least the ones I’ve loved, capture that feeling for me.

I spent the first 10 minutes being amazed by this complex food delivery system that’s been a mainstay in India since the late 19th century! Score one for a foreign movie teaching me something. Seriously, I spent half an hour researching and reading about this system.

Overall, the performances were achingly real. Ila (Nimrat Kaur) is a young wife and mother with a husband, who ends up cheating on her. Her only stimulus is through yelled conversations out her window with her upstairs neighbor, an older housewife, who has been taking care of comatosed husband for the past 20+ years! This mishap disrupts the rhythm of her monotonous life. And, over the course of the movie, she awakens to tap into her desire to want more, regardless of a man. The scene with her grieving mother was especially poignant. She saw her future. What is like to build your life around a man and then that man dies. Then there is the widower Saajan (Irrfan Khan). The disruption slowly awakens him to developing a friendship with Aslam (Nawazuddin Siddiqui), a younger colleague, and realizing he still has more life to live.

I loved the slow build of their relationship via letters exchanged in the lunchbox. How they begin to look at things and people differently, which is truer for Saajan.

One stand out scene, more like a series of scenes, is when Saajan worries if he will receive a lunchbox from Ila. On his morning commute, the roadways are blocked due to an accident. Saajan learns that a woman and her young daughter jumped off a building. Not fallen. Jumped. This gives him pause because he knows Ila is deeply unhappy in her marriage and has a daughter. When lunchtime rolls around, Saajan goes still as the lunchboxes are distributed. When the familiar lunchbox arrives, it's confirmation to him that Ila is alive. The mounting anxiety and relief is acted to perfection by Khan.

My one nitpick is that it was hard to buy the talented Irrfan Khan as this older man who worked for 35 years. 

What I most like is that while there are light touches of romantic overtones it isn’t the heart of the film. These two people needed to decide for themselves what type of life they wanted to live. I wasn’t mad at the open-ended ending. It leaves room for the imagination to explore. 

A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms (2026)

This is HBO’s latest foray into George R.R. Martin’s Game of Thrones universe. This time, the story is built on a set of novellas, published in the 1990s, about Ser Duncan the Tall. Unlike the other forays, this season is only six episodes with each having a run time ranging from 31 to 39 minutes. 

Duncan is a lowly hedge knight. Think: Roaming knight with no home to call his own. He has never been knighted but he has the heart of a true knight, who strives to be honest, forthright, and protect the innocent. Along the way, he crosses paths with a young boy named Egg who is really Prince Aegon Targaryen of House Targaryen. 

For the casual GoT viewers, this show is set after the events of House of the Dragon but before the events of Game of Thrones.

What do I like about it?

It actually has characters you can root for. It’s funny. Seriously they lean into those moments. It’s intentionally anachronistic, especially with their music choices. One scene has jazz music playing.

My favorite characters?

Ser Duncan the Tall, Egg, and Lyonel Baratheon. All of their actors did a phenomenal job.

Favorite moments?

1/ Duncan’s first meeting with Lyonel Baratheon

2/ Hell, any scene with Lyonel Baratheon

3/ Egg’s moment with Maeker Targaryen, his father

Where do I differ from others?

I…don’t necessarily buy the hype of Prince Baelor Targaryen. He seemed like a nice, respectful guy but not the most effective leader, especially checking the behavior of Prince Aerion, his nephew. He had the authority to.

Bridgerton, Season 4 (2026)

I was very late to the Bridgerton universe, the Netflix adaptation. In fact, it was Bridgerton: Queen Charlotte that gave me pause. The historian in me has thoughts but I know how to suspend that in order to enjoy things. 

I enjoyed reading some of Julia Queen’s books. Season 3 is the only season I’ve watched every episode. The others I only know the broader strokes of what happened. However, Season 4 is the first one I’ve tuned in for when the episodes drop. What I like about it is the show acknowledges the extreme wealth and privilege these families have. How? By delving more into the servants via Sophie Baek. It’s not all sunshine and roses. It’s a lot of work. Some of that is abused, many are overworked, and they find joy where they can.

It also gets into the sticky aspect of nobility vis-a-vis someone of high rank falling in love with someone of low/no rank, especially if the latter is a woman. There are very real, meaningful, long-term societal stakes at play that the other prior seasons didn’t have. 

Side plots I dig?

Maybe it's because I’m “a woman of a certain age” and by Bridgerton standards a verified spinster, any subplot that deals with the older woman like Queen Charlotte, Lady Danbury, and Violet Bridgerton, I’m here for all day. Violet is dealing with finding love after years of widowhood. Lady Danbury is ready to pass the torch and experience the last bit of life she has left but also dealing with a very dependent-on-her-friendship in Queen Charlotte.

The moment at the Queen’s ball between Lady Danbury and Queen Charlotte where they kiki as old friends do but also the realization that they won’t have these moments anymore with Lady Danbury leaving, hits HARD. 

If Netflix ever decides to do a limited series focusing on Queen Charlotte, Lady Danbury, and Violet Bridgerton, I’d watch it. To be clear, I don’t particularly need a prequel of these women but their lives as they are now. Older characters (i.e. the 40+) would have their time in the spotlight too.

Side plots I don’t dig?

I feel like because of Netflix’s protracted filming schedule, that they’re trying to do too much in one season. Trying to set up all the other love stories in the Bridgerton universe that it can, at times, take away from the main couple for that season. Two to three years is a long time to wait for seasons. Considering we have four more love stories to tell, that’s 8-12 years! That’s a commitment for these actors. Some of them even started out as children. They’ll be grown-grown by the time we get to them.

Season 4 is Benedict Bridgerton’s season and yet it doesn’t feel like it because of the amount of setting up they are trying to do for the other Bridgerton siblings. I felt this in Season 3 and I feel it here too. 

John and Francesca Kilmartin were robbed. Of Julia Quinn’s books, I have a soft spot for their story. It deals with finding love after loss and infertility issues. There was a big hullabaloo about changing her love interest from Michael to Michaela. Admittedly I had some reservations given the infertility issues in Francesca’s story and how that would play out. Nor was I a fan of how Michaela’s introduction seemed to suggest that it was “love at first sight” or at least “interest at first sight” with Michaela. When, in reality, it was the other way around. Yet, I was optimistic. In season 4, I was more miffed that the show shortchanged John and Francesca as a couple. They were barely married a year and most of their scenes centered on Francesca fretting over their sex life. They actually had few substantive scenes of being in love. Also, they set up Fran and Michaela as a bit more wary of each other versus the friends they become ...in which book Michael harbors a secret crush on his favorite cousin’s wife BUT doesn’t act on it. Again this is where Netflix’s weird shooting schedule and multiple love stories to get through is causing them to wobble. After all, John and Fran were married for a few years with a satisfying love life and enjoyed a great friendship with Michael. I would’ve liked this season of John and Fran in love, Fran and Michaela becoming friends (like they do in the book), then kill John off next season. Side note: The handling of John’s untimely death bothered me because it was “Black person’s death as plot device” for someone else’s story and startlingly lack of Black faces in attendance at his funeral. The show gave a reason but it was thin.

The rumor mill suggests that Eloise’s story is next, which I know I’ll tune into see. Interestingly, if the show would’ve made Eloise queer it would’ve made so much sense. Ah well, a missed opportunity.

Predator Badlands (2025)

I’m a super casual viewer of the Predator franchise. I’ve seen a few movies but I’m not invested. I dip in and out whenever I feel like it.

That being said, these last two additions to the franchise are lovely. Prey was a sleeper hit. I loved the idea of the Predator experience on Earth BUT before there was the United States or Canada as we know it. Back when Indigenous people lived their lives. 

In this next turn, Predator Badlands gives us Dek, the runt of his clan and in Yaujta culture that means he should be killed. However, because his brother, Kwei, loves him and believes in him, he isn’t killed. Unfortunately that costs Kwei his life. Still bent on proving himself worthy, he sets out to kill the unkillable Kalisk on the planet Genna. There he inadvertently creates a clan of his own with Thia and Bud, realizing working in a pack is not weakness but a source of strength.

Both movies bring heart and a simple story, centered on their main character or cluster of characters. In Prey, I never thought hearing the war cry of an Indigenous young woman would make me tear up. In Badlands, I most certainly never thought I’d root for a Predator aka a Yaujta.

And yet, here we are.

Best moment

Dek leans into what he learned on the planet to help him win in the final showdown versus Tessa, a Synthetic and “sister” to Thia.

The parallels

Sibling love but playing out differently. Kwei willingly chose death to save Dek. Seriously, he had a choice between picking up a sword and fighting their dad OR reaching for the gauntlet to initiate the ship’s autopilot to send his brother away. He chose the latter. Why? Because even as the runt of the litter, Dek protected his brother, losing a facial fang in the process. As a result, Kwei believes in his brother and his right to exist in spite of their culture. Tessa tried to save Thia from the Kalisk and was brutally maimed in the process. Once reactivated she made the choice: I’m not doing that again! F*ck that girl. To Tessa, and she says as much, Thia is broken and not worth that sacrifice.

Damn, girl. Damn.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think about this post. After creating the title card, located on the main blog page, I thought to myself, “is this a thing? Am I creating another spin off series of sorts?” I mean, it was kinda fun to just post what I watched without thinking too deeply.

This film essay contains spoilers.

Synopsis

An intrepid scientist, bent on proving there is alien life, stumbles upon an alien signal from the Vega system that sets her and the world toward first contact.

Contextual Information

Production and Development

Scientist Carl Sagan came up with the premise for Contact in 1979. His friend Lynda Obst pitched the idea to Peter Guber, a film producer, who also ran a production company called CasablancaFilmWorks. Spurred on by Guber’s interest in the idea, Sagan and Ann Druyan created the film treatment in November 1980. Guber liked the treatment but hired screenwriters to write the script, which included adding characters that ultimately were scrapped. After several years of attempting to get the movie picked up, Sagan converted it into a novel and published it with Simon & Schuster in 1985.

Guber still tried to get the movie made with Sony Pictures but that fell through. Concurrent with that, Obst had become a new executive at Warner Bros where she fast-tracked the script. The script went through several rewrites, most notably screenwriter Micheal Goldenberg’s version took a zanier approach with an alien wormhole swallowing the Earth. 

While that was going on, the project cycled through directors, including one director dropping out and one being fired. Eventually, Robert Zemeckis agreed to direct with complete artistic control and final cut privileges. At this point in his career, Zemeckis was known for directing the Back to the Future trilogy (1985-1990), Forest Gump (1994) for which he won an Academy Award for best directing, and cult classic Death Becomes Her (1992). It was Zemeckis who cast Matthew McConaughey. 

Casting

Having been in showbiz since the age of three, by the time of Contact, Jodie Foster as Dr. Eleanor “Ellie” Arroway, was a recognizable face and prominent lead. She secured two Academy Awards for lead roles for The Accused (1988) and Silence of the Lambs (1991). And, she was nominated for her roles in Taxi Driver (1976), at age 14, and Nell (1994). 

Conversely, for her costar and romantic lead Matthew McCaughney, who played Palmer Joss, he experienced more recent commercial success with the coming of age movie Dazed and Confused (1993). Within three years, he quickly established himself as a lead actor in A Time to Kill (1996). Rounding out the cast, veteran actors James Woods, as Michael Kitz, and Tom Skerritt, as Dr. David Drumlin, boasted a 20+ year careers with a long list of movie and television credits between them. 

Lastly and most importantly, there is Angela Bassett as Rachel Constantine, the White House rep. Since this is the third movie featuring Angela Bassett in my Scifi Black series, I will not rehash her acting career. Suffice to say, she was very active during the 1990s and well known to Black audiences. I direct you to read the Contextual Information for Strange Days (1995) and Supernova (2000). 

Bassett is low key/high key becoming the Black Queen of American Science Fiction movies given how many she’s appeared in thus far in this series.

Release

Contact was released on July 11, 1997. It grossed over $170 million dollars worldwide. The commercial success of the movie renewed interest in Sagan’s book.

Movie Critique

Contact is the first movie in this series where it struggled to hold my attention. To me, the story is about an intelligent, young white woman who is surrounded by white men who seek to undercut or take credit for her work and how, in the process, advance themselves. Even more frustrating, it’s by happenstance that lands her in the dome to make first contact, not her own ambition. She’s playing a game where she inherently knows she is at a disadvantage but does little about it. It’s the men around her moving the pieces and propelling the plot forward. 

Hard to root for a main (female) character when she is not the driver of her own narrative.

Moreover, the use of a romantic relationship via Palmer Joss to frame out the science versus religion was too on the nose and lacking nuance. Joss plays a psuedo-religious leader, given his character has a masters in divinity and written on the topic of religion and science. And, somehow, as a direct line to the United States president. This whole framing is very emblematic of the 1990s, especially with the rise of the Christian Right in the United States. I should know as a child then teenager in the 90s. 

It’s a massive deal in the movie and a detriment to Dr. Arroway’s chances during the public interview of all candidates, competing for a chance to represent the human race. The movie skirts around her character being an atheist, likely to avoid outright dislike for her character. By the end of the movie, Arroway has experienced this monumental, transformative event and, when she expresses it, it gives the distinct impression that faith and by extension religion has won over. And, in case the point is missed, the movie makes it abundantly clear that Joss and Arroway end up together. It’s implied that religion won out over science.

Incidentally, this is the movie where this quotable line comes from: They’ve should’ve sent a poet.

Black Character Analysis

Contact gives us one Black character to examine: Rachel Constantine played by Angela Bassett.

Our first introduction to Rachel Constantine is 49 minutes into a 150 minute movie. We’re in the second act of the movie. She is identified as the White House contact in President Bill Clinton’s administration. She is in a well-tailored skirt set and flanked by Dr. Arroway (Foster), Dr. Drumlin (Skerritt), and Advisor Micahel Kitz (Woods). She is clearly someone of importance as they navigate the White House corridors and end at the press briefing room.

Following the president’s speech to the press, she steps to the podium, fielding questions and clarifying statements made. She commands the space. A Black face in a powerful place.

However, in these crucial moments that indicate her status. Her name is treated like a casual, throwaway line. From the podium, she introduces Dr. Drumlin instead of Dr. Arroway as the lead expert. Yet, when he acknowledges her in his opening remarks, he calls her by her first name, which is overly familiar and too casual for the circumstances. When you take into consideration the gender and racial dynamics, not to mention the authority bit, it’s not a good look. 

It was that moment that made me question: Who is Rachel? Followed by, what is her role in the White House? 

After watching her first introduction, I thought she was the press secretary. That conclusion made sense within the context of what I watched.

In two subsequent scenes, the movie made me question that assessment. In those scenes, involving the main character and key supporting characters, she is the voice of authority. She guides and directs the conversations, and to some extent, mediates the brewing tension between Arroway and Drumlin. She represents the administration. At the same time, she was the stand in for the audience, asking the questions we would have. That’s when I began to suspect that she was the chief of staff, not the press secretary. Yet again, nowhere was that expressed or explicitly stated.

Every time Constantine entered the scene I found myself increasingly asking: Who are you?!

It’s worth noting in both these instances, she is the only person of color at the table. Despite being the authority in the room, she is not an active participant in the discussion with seemingly no opinion on these matters unfolding for not just the United States but the world. 

A Black face in a powerful place but no voice of her own. Merely a mouth piece for a white administration in a room full of white people.

After one scene, Constantine interrupts a conversation between Joss and Arroway to remind him of his meeting with the president. No sooner does she leave the space do Joss and Arroway make fun of what she said. Consider the optics. Two white characters, with clearly defined roles in the movie, making fun of, although portrayed as innocuous, the one Black (and only racially visible) character, who is unclearly and inconsistently defined. 

To add further to that, her character waits outside the room for Joss and trails behind him like a secretary. This is not a slight to secretaries or anyone in those professions. Rather it’s a visual that intentionally or unintentionally plays into racial and gender dynamics and hierarchy. Here is a seemingly authoritative figure, who is always on the go, trailing behind a white man…who is meeting another white man. Simply put, it’s not a good look.

On the immediate heels of that, seventy-one minutes in, we *finally* learn her last name is Constantine. Let me emphasize that, twenty-one minutes after she is first introduced on screen does the audience learn her last name. Not only that, it’s the way we learn it. Again, we have this busy woman who seems to be waiting in the wings to be called upon by the white characters. Soon after trailing behind Joss, she is suddenly available to be interrupted from her work by Arroway who inquires about where to locate a fancy dress for a gala. Not going to lie, the way Foster delivers the line “Miss Constantine” felt very Aunt Jemima-coded to my ear. It was said in a small, childlike voice with, to my ear, a slight southern accent.

Immediately, I felt a way. Immediately. 

Even when given an opportunity to indicate and reinforce Constantine’s name and White House position, the movie doesn’t take it. For example, Contact cast real news broadcasters in the movie. In the news footage, it gives it an air of realism and grounds it within the 1990s. With any news program, when interviewing someone, the crawler will indicate their name and job/title. This is the case with the white cast who appear on the news. Even actor Rob Lowe, who plays conservative Richard Rank, and only has three lines of dialogue in the entire movie gets this treatment.

However, when a clip is shown of Constantine being interviewed….they don’t show that. 

Again, the movie is making a point of letting us know who everyone is and their point of view except the one primary Black character.

Her character fades into the background of events until the very end. It’s then revealed that contrary to public discourse, Arroway had in fact made first contact. The evidence of it, several hours of static footage, purposely buried by science advisor Micahel Kitz. Rachel Constantine is complicit in knowing this knowledge and hiding it from the world. 

Ultimately, as a character, Rachel Constantine does not fit neatly or cleanly into one archetype. Rather, her character is indicative of a generalized treatment of Black characters. Seemingly important but largely relegated to being passive participants, with two-dimensional depth, and in service to white characters or, in this case, white authority.

So what does this movie tell us about Black people in American Science Fiction Films?

There is a growing trend I see within American Science Fiction films. White characters are given some sense of formal introduction: name and title with their role/importance to the plot clearly indicated or heavily implied. Whereas, Black characters are not given similar treatment. It’s caused me to pay extra attention to the dialogue to pick up these basic details about them. 

Similarly, the archetypes are becoming more blurred in favor of crafting two-dimensional characters, who lack history, autonomy, or a voice. Black people can ascend in rank and perceived importance but left to be underutilized and complicit in activities. It raises the challenge for Black actors to create meaning and motivation for their characters from a script and a film that holds them in little regard.

Thank you for reading. I will continue to produce other film essays and nonfiction book reviews. This series will be in addition to that work. Its category will be “Scifi Black.” As always I pride myself on quality vs. quantity so if you’re looking for regular content, produced on a timetable, you’ll be disappointed. Let’s bring back slower consumption of content to give ourselves time to think about what we watch. My thoughts and views are shaped by extensive reading. Check out my Bookshop Storefront for my ongoing list of books I highly recommend.

If you enjoyed reading this essay, consider showing your support by buying me a cup of coffee.

As one of FOX’s longest running series, King of the Hill ran for 13 seasons. I watched none of it while it was on the air. I knew of it but only in the last few months have I embarked on watching it.

In this short blog post, I rattle off random thoughts about this animated series set in fictional Arlen, Texas. Some of my thoughts I will explain. Others I won’t. 

Note: I haven’t watched the 2025 revival, yet.

• Hank Hill gives major neurodivergent vibes. He likes things a certain way and it bothers him if they’re not.

• I love how much the foursome: Hank, Bill, Dale, and Boomhauer, love home/construction projects. These are the type people to have in your corner. I mean they built Kahn’s pool for fun (and access). 

• No one loves Texas as much as Hank.

• There was not nearly enough Connie and Joseph, especially in the later seasons.

• Peggy is not a girl’s girl. She is the type of woman that stays in competition with other women.

• No shade to Brittany Murphy (RIP) but I couldn’t stand Luanne’s voice…or her as a character. 

• Relatedly, all that growth of Luanne to reverse it.

• Bill….smdh

• Dale…*insert eye roll*

• Hank is portrayed as the anchor for the group but I think it’s Hank and Boomhauer. 

• Hank and Bobby knowing that Peggy is actually terrible at speaking Spanish is one of my favorite running gags in the early seasons.

• BOOMHAUER IS A TEXAS RANGER?! Threw me all the way off because I never once questioned what he did for a living. 

• Stuart Dooley’s one liners take me out every time.

• Always interesting to watch shows that start in the late 90s have a lot of church/religious-focused episodes then abruptly stop doing them. Example of that subtle cultural shift.

• When the show decided to break Connie and Bobby up, we saw way less of Connie. I ain’t like that.

• The episode where Bobby learns Bill’s  family recipe is one of my favorite Bill-centric episode.

• Taste the meat, not the heat.

• Buck Strickland should’ve died a long time ago but like the rich, white guy he is…ain’t gonna happen.

• John Redcorn is such an underutilized character. 

Now for the big one…Joseph Gribble

I loathe the fact the whole John Redcorn/Nancy Gribble affair is played up for its impact on Dale. Dale is a man-child. I could give two shits about him. What bothers me is that Joseph is barely a thought in this equation, especially as we get into the later seasons. Also early John Redcorn was more adamant about having a relationship with his son and him knowing his indigenous roots. Then this gets dropped and John Redcorn is rebranded as this guy who can’t quite get over Nancy + a casanova who’ll sleep with any woman. No. Just no. Given the violent history of indigenous people being colonized and severed from their indigenous customs…the show’s treatment of Joseph’s identity irks my spirit especially when Dale is centered. All his friends know but him and all of them are A-OK with Joseph not knowing the truth because they don’t want to upset Dale. 

My sincerest hope with the revival, since I’ve heard it got renewed for additional seasons, is for Joseph to finally know the truth and he can begin to learn about his heritage from John Redcorn. Given how close Joseph is to Dale, I would be okay with Joseph knowing/figuring it out but not telling his dad. The show may be hard pressed to do such a thing given that Jonathan Joss’ John Redcorn’s voice actor was killed. 

However, at the end of the day, I want Joseph to know his heritage and watch where that journey takes him and who he becomes along the way.

I fall into the camp that believes Die Hard (1988) starring Bruce Willis and the late Alan Rickman, is a Christmas movie. In fact, it’s a holiday tradition in my home to watch it on the day my Christmas tree  goes up, thereby ushering in the holiday season.

For a change of pace, I opted to watch Netflix’s Carry-On (2024), which is purportedly, in a similar vein as my Christmas classic.

It has a cast whose faces I enjoy looking at: Taron Edgerton, Jason Bateman, THEE Danielle Deadwyler, who, incidentally, needs to be cast in all the things. ALL THE THING! 

But in watching the movie, it occurred to me, finally, why Netflix productions feel…"off” to me. Like, the pieces are there but it’s not clicking. The magic is not magic-ing like I hoped.

Then it dawned on me. The answer is the simplest and the oldest reason: Netflix specializes in plot-driven narrative. The focus is more externally driven with a perpetual state of “raising the stakes” for the character. The forward momentum of the plot is forced on them. Not to be mistaken for character-driven, where the actions of the character and their feelings take center stage. 

Over the years, I’ve become deeply invested in character-driven stories. For that, I point to my extensive reading of romance. I won’t rehash here. I do discuss it in this post but romance excels in this area. Outside of that intense interest, much of what I watch tends to have a much more balanced approach, weighing plot and character to varying degrees and at the right moments.

Netflix, for the most part, says NAH.

Carry-On is no exception. Once that clicked for me about 51 minutes into a 1 hour and 59 minute movie, I stopped expecting the movie to do more. I stopped expecting the characters to be more than they were.

That’s the bit about visual storytelling we need to talk about or don’t talk enough about. For those of us who like to dabble in critically engaging with the art we consume, sometimes that means adjusting expectations on the fly. From that perspective you’ll know sooner when to opt out of a movie if it isn't for you and you’ll seldom be disappointed, unless the filmmaker (the production) sets a specific intention and then doesn’t deliver or delivers poorly.

World-building and Character Info Dumps are there for context not emotional stakes

In a plot-driven story, the story needs to set up the world and the character. This info is often delivered early on and helps explain relationships, “the stakes,” and seed critical information that will be important going forward. In Carry-On, we learn in the first 20-25 mins, that TSA agent Ethan Koepke is in a long-term relationship, expecting a baby, and is kind of checked out from life. Why? He failed to get into the police academy. 

The above information will not only be conveyed but reinforced a few times so we remember, whether in small actions or in the dialogue. In the movie, his relationship will be used to force him to do terrible things, including hurt others who he cares about…or inadvertently get them killed. Since he had aspirations of being a police officer, that means he’s got a particular set of skills that he’ll demonstrate at key points. Such as when LAPD Detective Elena Cole wises up and realizes something is wrong. When she crosses paths with Ethan, he’s able to communicate a lot of information about the situation quickly before running after the perp.

Emotional moments are kept to a minimum, brief, and require suspension of disbelief

Character moments actually work against a plot-driven movie. They slow the momentum down. However, they’re needed to remind us that these characters are still human even if they seem to move through emotional reactions at breakneck speed. It’s also where we are required as the audience to suspend our disbelief. These characters are the walking epitome of “ain’t nobody got time for that.” Granted, that is a trauma response. Some of us (I include myself here) can go through something and it’s like the emotional barometer turns down and we focus on getting through. I should tell y’all about my experience in my first ever car accident at 41. I digress. But that’s not everyone’s reaction to traumatic experiences but, generally, characters in plot-driven movies tend to fall disproportionately into that category. 

For example, Ethan watches Mateo Flores die. Like him, Mateo was threatened to help in this terrorist plot. Ethan watches the man bleed out. There’s emotion on his face but that’s the extent of it. Four seconds later, he’s off to the races, charging ahead to keep the plot moving. Or, when he narrowly saves his girlfriend, Nora, from an assassin called The Watcher. They hug, kiss, and then BOOM, we got shit to do.

At no point will we sit with, for long periods, how the character feels about these things. At most, they’ll get a few seconds, maybe even a minute, to quickly process any emotions that bubble up. The plot is going to keep pushing the character to either act or react.

Minor aside: For a movie set during the busiest travel holiday of the year in one of the busiest airports in the world, it didn’t feel like it at times. Ethan was stepping away from his post left and right. Nobody flagged that?

In Conclusion

Carry-On is the perfect plot-driven story, complete with twists and turns that kept raising the stakes. When you think it’ll go one way, it turns. Entertaining, if you know to expect that. It’s not personally my bag, as I like a little more character action than that, but it’s someone’s cup of tea.

Isn’t that the way with movies?

Happy Holidays.

Note: I’m releasing this blog post on the movie’s one year anniversary. That seldom happens for me. 

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]]>Plot is in the Driver’s Seat in Carry-On (2024)Film EssayLee StevensWed, 19 Nov 2025 16:08:00 +0000https://www.leestevensbooks.com/blog/love-brooklyn-20256257207b081039630fe08798:63fe2fba6a39ba38f9551e62:69121544b7b63d46264cfcf1This film essay contains spoilers.

In Love, Brooklyn (2025), Roger (André Holland) is a writer who is procrastinating on his latest book project. When he's not procrastinating, he is juggling two relationships. The first is with Casey (Nicole Beharie), an ex-girlfriend turned friend who he still keeps in his life despite the lingering feelings. The other is Nicole (DeWanda Wise), a widow and single mom to a daughter named Ally (Cadence Reese).

On the surface, this movie could be about a fickle, commitment-phobic writer, who is juggling two relationships. To be honest, for the first twenty minutes that’s what I thought. Mind you, I hadn’t watched the trailer because I wanted to go in with no expectations. I see Nicole Beharie and I will tune in. With an all-Black cast, I tamped down my irritation because to see someone’s emotions be played with, especially Black women, grates on the nerves.

However, as I watched, I posit that, in reality, Love, Brooklyn is a study in how relationships can be used as a distraction from life, specifically the complications that life brings as one tries to navigate it. 

Roger avoids work 

Despite being a writer and with a looming deadline, a substantive portion of the movie is exploring his relationship with these women. In fact, the first scene of him, besides the opening montage, is him talking about his book project with Casey over dinner. As his friend and former ex-girlfriend, she succinctly points out that he always exhibits a lack of confidence in his work but still manages to get it done. The issue: He has a new idea he wants to explore but he’s locked into the project he committed to. He’s more worried about asking for additional time and being viewed as an “inscrutable fuck-up.” 

Even as the stakes rise and his editor emphasizes the deadline, Roger will opt to distract himself with either Casey or Nicole than sit down and write. Interestingly, the two women are aware of each other but never meet in the movie. Casey is his hang out buddy, who he’s sorta still in love with. Nicole is his hook up buddy but also could be his girlfriend if Roger stopped dragging his feet. He oscillates between them depending on what he needs at the moment. 

When the reality of the messiness of relationships hits him in the face, Roger wakes up. The immediate response: he finally sits down to work no longer having relationships to disappear into.

Nicole avoids grief 

Of the three main characters, Love, Brooklyn does a grave injustice to Nicole and the exploration of her grief. She is a widow who lost her husband Steven in a car accident. And, she is raising a 7-8 year old daughter. There is no sense of how much time has passed. Her grief only becomes a palpable presence until two-thirds of the way in the movie. Ally, Nicole’s daughter, wants to get to know Roger better so Nicole proposes a play date. This is a big deal because that’s a big sign of trust that Nicole was ok with Roger watching her daughter for a few hours. 

Unfortunately, everything goes all the way left when Casey happens to stop by the park where Roger and Ally are. Also Roger is mistaken for Ally’s dad. The daughter’s confusion about who Casey is and her own grief about not having a dad sends Nicole into a grief spiral. Reality came at her fast. She’s not the light and breezy person she was for most of the movie. Instead, we see how her grief is still very present. It hasn’t been fully processed. She confides in Roger that she's still working on letting go of the life that she thought she would have with Steven. That hooking up with him was not what she envisioned for herself. 

That moment of honesty cracks open what both have been tap-dancing around: this isn’t a relationship. It’s possible it may never be one.

The one misstep, I think, besides not giving more presence to Nicole’s grief is how the movie shoehorns a happy ending between the two. They happen to run into each other in what feels like a few weeks…maybe two months later and suddenly they’re ready.

Yeah, no.

Casey avoids a failing business 

She is the owner of an art gallery and she owns the building that her art gallery sits in. She inherited it from her grandmother at a time when the neighborhood was different and interest in art was high. However, over time, this has changed. When she walks into her art gallery, she deals with decreased business, ongoing construction, and dodging calls from buyers wanting to buy her building. Of the three, her life’s problems are the most palpable and ever present.

Casey distracts herself from it by this somewhat deep, somewhat easy breezy dynamic that she has with Roger because he is familiar. And yet, they admit when they are together, they drink too much and smoke too much weed. These substances are their way of self-medicating and escaping, not necessarily to enhance their fun with each other. Even when she attempts to deepen their interactions and let more of “life’s problems” in, Roger is not attuned to it. He evades or jokes or he’s too busy to listen.

It’s only when Roger initiates a change in their dynamic, no more seeing or talking to each other, does Casey face reality. Her story ends on a somber, emotional note where she finally accepts that she cannot sustain her business and must sell. Nicole Beharie acts that moment to perfection. 

Conclusion

Overall, Love, Brooklyn is described as a story about love, loss, and relationships. While that’s true to an extent, the deeper commentary is about the ways relationships can be used as a form of avoidance. Once these are restructured or ended can they face what they’ve been running from for so long.

This film essay contains spoilers. Depicts violence.

Synopsis

A data courier takes one last gig to transport data that has world-wide implications. He races against the clock to get it out of his head before it kills him or the corporate-backed Yakuza do.

Contextual Information

Development and Production

Johnny Mnemonic was an adaptation of William Gibson’s 1981 cyberpunk short story by the same name. The movie version contains the broader strokes of the story but little else. In 1989, director Robert Longo reached out to Gibson to adapt his story. What they envisioned was a small art film with a 1-½ million dollar budget. Warner Brothers expressed interest in financing the movie but due to a merger with Time, Inc., the film was put on hold and Longo released from his contract.

They received financing from Don Carmody, a Canadian film producer. Their art film, which was deemed as not marketable, expanded to become a $30 million movie. Actor Val Kilmer, known for his iconic roles as Doc Holliday in Tombstone (1993) and singer Jim Morrison in The Doors (1991), was originally signed as the lead. However, he dropped out. Keanu Reeves, coming fresh off the blockbuster success of Speed (1994), signed on. With Reeves as lead, this catapulted the expectations of the movie to be a blockbuster hit and, due to Reeves’ Canadian nationality, opened Canadian financial options, including tax incentives.

The story Gibson and Longo envisioned was not ultimately what made it to screen. Elements were changed, recut, and casting choices were based on marketability and broader appeal.

Filming took place in Toronto and Montreal. The movie was released on May 26, 1995. It grossed $6 million dollars opening weekend. It made a total of $19 million against a $26 million dollar budget. Unfortunately, it was not highly regarded by critics receiving a C rating.

Casting

The movie stars Keanu Reeves, Dolph Lundgren, Dina Meyer, Denis Akiyama and Ice T (to name a few). As mentioned previously Reeves’ signing on the project raised the expectation of it given his very recent success with Speed (1994). He stars as Johnny Smith, the titular character. 

Dolph Lundgren, known for his breakthrough role as Ivan Drogo in Rocky IV (1985), was an example of a casting choice pushed by the studio on Gibson and Longo for broader, international appeal. The part of Karl “The Street Preacher” Honig, a mercenary, was created for Lundgren. 

As the badass but also love interest Jane is Dina Meyer. This was her first feature film, having previously acted on the teen hit television show Beverly Hills 90210. The primary antagonist in the movie is Denis Akiyama as Shinji of the Yakuza. Akiyama of Ontario, Canada came from a theater and Canadian television background. 

Lastly, and most importantly, is Ice-T as J-Bone, leader of an anti-establishment group called the Lo-Teks. By the time of Johnny Mnemonic, Ice-T  was known primarily as a rapper with five studio albums released between 1987 and 1993. In particular, his heavy metal album Body Count (1992), which focused on social and political issues, sparked controversy over the song “Cop Killer.” There was outrage from government officials, police advocacy groups, and the National Rifle Association of America (NRA). 

In terms of his acting career, he starred in two movies in the 1980s but it was the 1990s that saw Ice-T embark on a serious acting career. He played a police detective in the iconic Black film New Jack City (1991), directed by Mario Van Peebles. He played a gang leader in Ricochet (1991) and Trespass (1992). In 1995, he branched out into science fiction with Johnny Mnemonic and Tank Girl, starring Lori Petty, who incidentally starred opposite Reeves in Point Break (1991).

Movie Critique

Johnny Mnemonic is definitely a meh to okay(ish) science fiction film for me. I have vague recollections of watching it but nothing in particular stuck out to me. Now that I’ve watched it. I see why. I also see how the changes to the movie from the original short story flattened the story.

Essentially, the protagonist has a specific goal but there is an obstacle to it. To remove the obstacle, he has to take a “side quest” which turns into the heart of the movie. 

Set in 2021 (you read that right), Johnny Smith is a 27 year old data courier who, in order to do the job, dumped all of his memories. His life before, his childhood, all of it is gone. However, he wants them back. He’s saved up the money for the procedure to restore his memories but finds out the price has increased. To get the necessary cash, he agrees to one more job for his “friend” Ralfi. Unbeknownst to Johnny, the data is more than his brain can hold for too long and it happens to be the cure for Nerve Attenuation Syndrome. Now it's a race against the clock to get the data out of his head before it kills him and maybe, just maybe, save the world.

Sounds interesting right? Moments of it were.

My primary issues were:

• Powerful to a point - The corporations and the Yakuza are portrayed as this big bad and yet Johnny made it from central Beijing to Newark, New Jersey without issue. They knew where he was going so why weren’t folks posted up at the airports awaiting his arrival. It’s a little thing that irked me.

• Snitches - Everyone who helped Johnny or needed his help folded super easy in the face of the bad guys. I mean, they were being tortured but still…put up a little resistance. At 93 minutes, I can only guess they wanted to keep the plot progressing and the bad guys on Johnny’s heels.

• The longest night - When Johnny arrives in Newark, we learn he’s got 24 hours before the data seepage kills him. He arrives and it's night time. The rest of the movie is at night time within this 24 hour window. Last I checked, night time doesn’t last 24 hours. Or we’re expected to believe that this entire movie is over the course of a few hours.

• Is this your king? (Black Panther reference) - The romance was unnecessary. Apparently, our courier-turned-hero-turned-savior can only give a crap about the rest of the world unless he’s attracted to a woman who has the very disease the data can save.

• A goal without the emotion - No real explanation for why Johnny wants his memories back, effectively ending his career as a courier and a steady flow of income.

Black Character Analysis

Johnny Mnemonic gives us one Black character to examine: J-Bone played by Ice-T.

Ice-T’s character is introduced in a quick, meant to be evocative, moment at the 6 minute mark as Johnny Smith (Reeves) waits for an elevator in the hotel lobby in Beijing. Evocative in the sense that the message is an intentional disruption to draw people’s attention to deliver a message:

Snatch back your brain, zombie. Snatch back and hold it.

This message is supposed to mean something. It’s supposed to disrupt, which it does, but without context it means next to nothing to the audience. Instead it raises the question “from what?” but this thread is dropped to be picked up frustratingly later. Spoiler alert: It’s loosely implied that Nerve Attenuation Syndrome is the result of our overdependency on technology.

J-Bone’s onscreen introduction, unencumbered by graphics, occurs 22-minutes into the movie. Now set in Newark, New Jersey, which is rendered as a postapocalyptic wasteland, he and his unnamed companion watch Johnny through binoculars. They sit from a high perch in a building, watching this man bedecked in a suit, walking by himself…at night…in the crumbling ruins of some nondescript part of Newark.  

His name is said in passing, in the casual way of conversation between two people who know each other. J-Bone is decked out in dark clothing, facial markings, and long dreadlocks. His hairstyle alone makes him unmistakably Black. 

“Suits don’t come out here” is his first line of dialogue said with distrust as they watch Johnny get held up at gunpoint and ushered into a nearby building. 

Johnny and J-Bone make contact when his companion is accidentally shot by the Yakuza chasing Johnny. J-Bone goes to check on his companion who is dead. J-Bone doesn’t look particularly perturbed by the assassin, who points his gun at him. He is calm. This suggests that this action and J-Bone’s reaction to it is commonplace, something he’s experienced before.

Johnny intervenes and kills the assassin. J-Bone, in turn, stops another assassin, a Black man, from killing a distracted Johnny. It’s important to note that the only other Black male character with a speaking part is killed by the other Black male character who is important to the plot. 

J-Bone declares that they are even and he doesn’t owe Johnny shit. He is quick to wash his hands of this suspicious man. It is brusque and direct, channeling what one would expect from a native of the northeast United States, specifically the New Jersey and New York areas. Equally as likely, the distrust between a Black man and a white man.

Johnny turns the table and holds J-Bone at gunpoint. Again, J-Bone is not entirely surprised by it. Caught off guard? Yes. Surprised? No. Taking the inherent power dynamics in Black and white interactions, which you guessed it are influenced by centuries of white supremacist ideology, that explains why the double cross isn’t a surprise to J-Bone. 

It’s this exertion of power over J-Bone that the audience is formally introduced to who J-Bone is. 

He runs Heaven, the headquarters for Lo-Tek. Again not much context given about that. 

Over the course of the movie, J-Bone is established as this anti-establishment leader who “disrupts the system” but save for the moment in the Beijing hotel and toward the climax, that disruption occurs off-screen. 

The closest archetype to J-Bone is the Magical Negro, specifically in that he aids the (white) protagonist but appears without a past. Although the naming of this particular archetype came much later, it captures a very real phenomenon. We, as the audience, are expected to intuit what it is but we don’t quite know it. How did Lo-Tek come to be? How did J-Bone become the leader? Was he always the leader? How do they disrupt the system? Are they an actual threat to anyone?

Unlike the Magical Negro archetype, he, at least, has connections in the movie. However, Lo-Tek is underutilized throughout and not fully fleshed out as a faction, compared to the corporations or the Yakuza or the “Ghost in the machine” character or hell, the dolphin Jones. (Yes, there’s a dolphin)

At times, J-Bone and Lo-Tek exist on the periphery of this movie and only called into action when important to the plot. For example, their headquarters is the stage for the final conflict. However, for much of it, they are absent as Johnny and Jane duke it out against the Street Preacher (Lundgren) and Shinji (Akiyama). They reappear once the two villains are dispensed with. Other times, they are a stand-in for the audience to understand the world. For example, one of the Lo-Tek members asks J-Bone who the Street Preacher (Lundgren) is. J-Bone gives a brief primer on the Street Preacher and his penchant for augmenting his body with technology. 

To be frank, Lo-Tek is the weakest element in the movie. It is not lost on me that this underutilized element has a Black character as their leader. I’ll take it a step further in that having a Black character leading an anti-establishment group has roots in Black activism and the Civil Rights movement. And yet, it shows a fundamental misunderstanding of “the why.” Why are they anti-establishment? Why are corporations and the Yakuza (the bad guys) more fleshed out than the people set up as in opposition to them? As this series has shown, Black characters are seldom rendered with sufficient depth. It is not surprising that things associated with them receive the same treatment.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the potential impact of colorism to J-Bone’s characterization. Ice-T is a very light-skinned Black man, even though, in his own words, his father was a “dark-skinned brother” and his mother was a “fair-skinned” Black woman who looked like Dorothy Dandridge or Lena Horne. He has even recounted his own experience of colorism in that, as a young child, he didn’t receive similar racist treatment from white kids that other darker, unambiguously Black kids received. He attributed this to his lighter skin in which white kids were more likely to assume he was white.

Why bring this up? J-Bone is the leader of a resistance/anti-establishment group and he is a Black man. American films, at this time (and even now), have a propensity to lean more into the Brute archetype for this type of character. As mentioned earlier, by 1995, Ice-T had landed in national hot water over his song “Cop Killer” so the Brute archetype being applied to him wouldn’t have been a surprise to me. It’s the fact it wasn’t that bears some examination. Could it have been an intentional choice by writers or the director not to lean into their biases? Perhaps. Or, quite more likely, Ice-T didn’t fit “the look” of a Brute, the physical embodiment of Black rage. That is often applied to those Black men who are unambiguously, unequivocally Black to (white) audiences. It’s Ice-T’s perceived proximity to whiteness, despite being fully Black, that likely spared J-Bone from being rendered in such a way.

A Note about Filming Locations

When the movie indicated Johnny needed to take the data to Newark, New Jersey, my brain flagged it. It had some relevance but I didn’t want to pause the movie to find out.

Now I know. Rapper, actor, and general icon Queen Latifah (aka Dana Owens) is from Newark, New Jersey. I was first exposed to her via Living Single (1993-1998), an iconic Black television show, following a group of twenty-something year olds in New York. It was Friends before Friends. No, seriously, it became the model for Friends (1994-2004). It was also my first introduction to “life up north” as a Georgia-born and raised person. And, in writing this piece, I learned that Ice-T was born in Newark. He lived there until the age of 13 before he moved to Los Angeles to live with extended family.

This is particularly relevant because when my brain snagged on that location, I knew without knowing that Newark was waaaaayyy more Black than it appeared on screen. After some research I learned, in the 1990s, the Black population of the city was close to 60%. Yet, I was hard pressed to find Black faces in the background. 

As I mentioned earlier and briefly, Toronto and Montreal were stand ins for Newark and Beijing, respectively. Toronto is very diverse with 55% of people from a visible aka readily apparent racial and ethnic group. However, traveling back in time, Toronto in the 1990s was only beginning to have a racial shift, due to increased Asian immigrants. So, in a word, Toronto was still very white, which tracks with what I was seeing in the background shots.

You’re probably asking, Lee, why does this matter? 

Filming locations can inadvertently contribute to the erasure of Black people in places and spaces they should be in. It was probably cheaper to film in Toronto and with a lot less disruption to the city but by doing so, it unintentionally presents a certain vision of the future. After all, this movie was shot in 1995 and projected a 2021 future. 

It’s similar to setting a movie in Delhi, India but barely having any Indian people in it, including background shots. It would be jarring.

At least in the shots of Beijing, they included Asian people (idk if they were all Chinese though) for a protest scene to give the appearance of being in that city.

So what does this movie tell us about Black people in American Science Fiction Films?

Black people’s presence on screen is still predicated on proximity to the white protagonist and the “usefulness” to said protagonist. There continues to be a lack of depth to developing the character or any important elements or attributes associated with them, even if it weakens the overall story. 

A Black character’s perceived proximity to whiteness can impact how they are represented on screen, specifically not leaning too heavily into Black archetypes which isn’t the win it appears to be (see last sentence). Lastly, it projects a version of the future in which Black people exist in small to nonexistent numbers, even in places where they should have a presence, which is….concerning.

Thank you for reading. I will continue to produce other film essays and nonfiction book reviews. This series will be in addition to that work. Its category will be “Scifi Black.” As always I pride myself on quality vs. quantity so if you’re looking for regular content, produced on a timetable, you’ll be disappointed. Let’s bring back slower consumption of content to give ourselves time to think about what we watch. My thoughts and views are shaped by extensive reading. Check out my Bookshop Storefront for my ongoing list of books I highly recommend.

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The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas is the book for me. Not the book that I love that sets the standard of all the books before it. No, that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s the book that I promised myself that before I die I will read it, specifically the unabridged version.

All 1,276 pages. 

I read the abridged version, clocking in at 520-ish pages about 15 years ago. When I finished, I remember thinking: if this is the abridged version, complete with characters and subplots that were erased from the movie adaptations, what does the unabridged version have in it?

Thus the seed was planted.

The movie adaptation I’m most familiar with is the 2002 version with Henry Caviezel in the titular role as Edmond Dantes/Count of Monte Cristo and Australian actor Guy Pierce as Danglars and his primary adversary. 

Caviezel had me sold with this one shot:

In this most recent 2024 French version of Le Comte de Monte Cristo, there was something lovely about watching Dumas’ epic tale, because it is epic, in its original language. I mean, I did minor in French so when I see French names I hear them in my head how they should sound. That’s one minor thing that irked me about the American version. A lot of the names felt flat, not nearly as musical as they are in the French language.

At 179 minutes (yes, one minute shy of 3 hours), this version brings more of the original elements of Dumas’ story back. Which is an interesting step up to the American version but still not a 100% adaptation, which would likely rival Lawrence of Arabia (1962), a 222-minute behemoth of a movie.  

Still this version of Edmond Dantes’ tale is phenomenal and renewed my desire to read the unabridged version. 

The thing is it didn’t feel like 3 hours. I’ve watched movies where I felt every minute of those 3 hours. With this one, I remember pausing because I desperately needed a bathroom break. I was shocked to find I had breezed through the first hour and a half.

To make things easier, for those unfamiliar with the story, Edmond Dantes becomes The Count of Monte-Cristo, a fake title to get his revenge plot started. At times, I will refer to him as the Count because he spends the vast majority of the movie as this person. I will, however, occasionally make references to his life before he became the Count. In those instances, I will refer to him as Dantes. 

Here are the things I noticed. The highlight reel but not an exhaustive list:

A different kind of Count

This Count is far more aloof, calculating, and ever observant. Among his enemies, he does not eat or drink. I believe he doesn’t want any moment, no matter how fleeting, to let his guard down in their presence. If he is offered food or drink, he declines. He leaves nothing to chance. The movie inserts brief flashbacks of him and his accomplices practicing their lines and their movements. It is a choreographed dance that his enemies don’t even realize, until it’s too late, that they’re in.

Additionally, it was an interesting choice to make this version of the Count less of a fighting/weapons badass compared to the American version. Don’t get me wrong, the Count is great with a pistol in his hand but a sword leaves a lot to be desired. There is a final showdown between the Count and de Morcerf but it’s definitely giving men…in their forties…who haven’t picked up a sword in a while. 

Revenge is a team sport not a solo mission

The three ensnared enemies are Danglars, de Villefort, and de Morcerf. The movie shows that dirty men do dirty deeds to others. Along the way, in studying them, the Count finds others who have been wronged to help them get their revenge. Not going to lie, by expanding to include his accomplices AND seeing the dirt these men did besides framing Dantes, I was on board with the revenge. There is a flashback moment with de Villefort in particular where I paused the movie and said, “Yeah, all these folks got to die. All of them.” I was on board with revenge.

French-Romanian actor Anamaria Vartolomei as Haydee, a daughter of a sultan, and French actor Julien de Saint Jean as Andrea, the illegitimate son of de Villefort and his mistress.

A veritable master of disguise

The Count is a master of disguise, which makes the revenge all the more believable. He does not want to leave anything to chance, therefore he wears a full face mask and wig to make his face slightly different. In the mask, he ages himself a little bit more than his real age, his jawline is wider, he sports a fashionable goatee and his nose is a bit more rounded but still a prominent feature. These changes are just enough to make it believable why he isn’t readily recognized by his enemies. Granted, Danglars and de Villefort were at least a full decade older, if not more, compared to Dantes who was 22 years old when they conspired against him. Aside: The closest person in age to him was Ferdnand de Morcerf, but even he reads older not only physically. War and battle can not only wound a person but age them as well. 

To them, Dantes was a fly in the proverbial ointment that stood in their way. For other aspects of his plan, the Count creates fictional people such as the Spanish abbot or the English aristocrat Lord Halifax. 

Dantes and Abbe Faria’s friendship

His friendship with the abbe during his imprisonment brought back the humanity of imprisonment, even if it was far too short. What the American version got right, in my opinion, was showing how that experience helped to transform Dantes into the Count of Monte Cristo. He learns languages, history, philosophy through a series of montages. In the French version, it is mentioned but not shown. Instead the focus is on their work to tunnel out of the Chateau d’If which takes almost 10 years. BUT, what it does get right is the heart-rending moment when Dantes and Abbe Faria meet in-person. The men are stunned, then they cry and hug each other. You feel the pain of what solitary confinement has done to them.

Chateau d’If, a true fortress

I loved the design of this infamous prison which emphasizes its impenetrable nature. Again, I can’t help with the comparisons to the American version which made the island prison feel like a regular-smegular prison. The fact it was an island was more important. However, in the French version, it’s an island and the cells are less like a typical jail cell but a circular hole in the ground. For the prisoners to get in or out requires a 50 ft rope dropped down and they climb out. If you keep the prisoners underfed then, they wouldn’t have the strength to climb out even if you dropped down a rope. Their meals come down via a bucket and then quickly hoisted back up. Each morning, the prison guard banks on the grate covering the manhole to the cell yelling, “Alive?” In which a prisoner responds, “Alive.”

You get a sense of the futility and impossibility of escape which makes Faria’s appearance seem like a miracle.

The inclusion of de Morcerf rounding out the trio of villains while making it uniquely personal the betrayal to Dantes

In the American version, Dumas’ characters of Danglars and de Morcerf were combined to create an uber villain. This is not a knock on Guy Pierce who plays it well. For context, Ferdnand de Morcerf is the cousin of Mercedes, who is Dantes’ love interest. Dantes owes a lot to the de Morcerf family. They employ his father as a servant and they served as sponsors to Dantes’ education, specifically going to Navy school to become a sailor. His promotion to Captain is a positive reflection on the de Morcerf family and their assistance. However, unbeknownst to all of them, Dantes and Mercedes are in love. His promotion also means he has the financial means to marry and marry well. Pragmatically speaking, Dantes marrying Mercedes is a step up for him but a step down for Mercedes but her family is wealthy enough that it’s not that big of a deal. When Dantes and Mercedes share their plans with Ferdnand, as the audience, we quickly see he has a problem with it even if he pretends not to. A tale as old as time. Ferdnand is in love with his cousin. So when an opportunity presents itself to remove Dantes from the picture…he takes it. With the others, Danglars and de Villefort, their reasons were personal but not in the same stratosphere as de Morcerf. I remember saying, “He [Dantes] got enemies and don’t even know it.”

The trio of villians (left to right): Danglars (Patrick Mille), de Villefort (Laurent Lafitte), and de Morcerf (Bastien Bouillon)

The emotional impact of revenge is most felt in the next generation

As I mentioned, the revenge in the movie is much larger than Dantes. It includes Haydee and Andrea, who are his younger accomplices. Dantes nurtured their anger, their hatred at what happened to them and turned them into weapons to exact revenge on these three men via their children. He was covering all the angles. Ultimately these two characters represent two paths: the path where revenge destroys you and the path of letting go of revenge and choosing life. All while reinforcing how committed the Count is to his plan and how disconnected, for the most part, he has become to his own humanity. He knew love. He experienced familial and romantic love until that was stolen from him at the age of 22. However, along his journey for revenge, he meets two younger people in their early teens and he nurtures that anger. They become something completely different.

Overall, Le Comte de Monte-Cristo was a solid watch and something I would watch again if the mood strikes. I love it and the American version for different reasons but both, I think, only get better with each re-watch.

This film essay contains spoilers. Depicts nudity, violence, police brutality, racial slurs, drug use, and sexual assault.

Synopsis

Set on the eve of the new millennium, an ex-cop-turned-smut peddler Lenny Nero gets his hands on footage that could cause the city of Los Angeles to erupt into violence.

Lenny Nero (Ralph Fiennes) is aided by his friend Lornette “Mace” Mason in uncovering a serial killer running loose in Los Angeles on New Year’s Eve 1999.

Contextual Information

Development and Production

The story idea for Strange Days was developed by director James Cameron (yes, that James Cameron) in 1986. He wrote the story with the hope that director Kathryn Bigelow would direct. Bigelow was the director behind the iconic Point Blank (1991) starring Patrick Swayze and Keanu Reeves. When presented to her, Bigelow jumped on the opportunity with Cameron focusing on the more on the romantic elements of the movie while she worked on upping the edginess factor and the more political elements. 

Bigelow has cited the Rodney King verdict and the subsequent 1992 Los Angeles riots as a major influence. She was involved in the clean up following the riots and it had a profound impact on her. (Note: I’ve previously discussed the verdict and the riots in my Sphere essay). The 90-page treatment by Cameron and Bigelow was given to screenwriter and film critic Jay Crooks to turn into a script. The script was completed in 1992.

Filming started in June 1994 and was shot entirely in Los Angeles over the course of 77 days. 

The Cast

The movie stars Ralph Fiennes, Juliette Lewis, Angela Bassett, and Glenn Plummer. British actor Ralph Fiennes was cast in the titular role of Lenny Nero because of his 1993 Schindler’s List performance for which he scored an Academy Awards’ Best Supporting Actor nomination. It was believed that he had the depth to play Lenny with complexity and intelligence. Juliette Lewis landed the role of Faith Justin, which required singing. 

Unlike the others, Angela Bassett was attached to the project from the beginning after receiving the 90-page treatment from Bigelow. I’ve previously discussed Angela Bassett’s filmography in my Scifi Black Supernova post. I won’t rehash it here but suffice to say the 1990s was a very active time in her career with a number of hits that endeared her to the Black community and exposed her to larger audiences. 

Glenn Plummer had a series of film and television roles. Prior to Strange Days casting, he was well-known and/or recognizable for his roles in South Central (1992), Menace II Society (1993), and Speed (1994). In 1993, he also appeared in a single episode of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, a hit tv show for NBC starring rapper-turned-actor Will Smith. South Central, for which he starred in the lead role, and Menace II Society depicted Black life in Los Angeles against the backdrop of gang affiliation, violence, and incarceration. For his role in South Central, Plummer’s performance received wide acclaim. Worthy of note is how many of his acting projects, film and tv, were set in Los Angeles. 

Release

Strange Days premiered in October 1995. It was considered a commercial failure only making $17 million dollars worldwide against a $42 million dollar budget. 

Movie Critique

Full disclaimer: I have seen Strange Days multiple times. I mean, multiple times. It’s a different experience to watch it with a more critical lens. Overall, I think the movie holds up. It made me miss the days when movies were longer because sometimes world-building is crucial to understanding the world you’ll be immersed in. At 146 minutes, the first twenty minutes of the movie sets up pretty much everything. It establishes the story world, the tension, Lenny as a main character, his background, his relationship with Faith, the mystery around the video footage, the death of famous Black rapper/activist Jeriko One, and the Superconducting Quantum Interference Device (SQUID) technology. Y’know the science fiction bit of the movie. 

Those twenty minutes don’t feel like wasted space, where I’m counting down to when the movie is over. It answers questions and gives context so that when the plot really gets moving we don’t have any basic story or character questions to figure out.

Additionally, it’s very much a movie that’s a product of its time, specifically the imagery that is reminiscent of the 1992 Los Angeles riots, while being relevant today. Police brutality isn’t a new issue for the Black community. If you believe police brutality only popped up with the creation of the Black Lives Movement (BLM) in 2013. I have a bridge over a volcano to sell you. It’s a century plus age old problem but back in the Jim Crow era of American history it was commonly called lynchings with white mobs often lynching Black men and women over real or perceived slights while the police turned a blind eye or participated. (By the way, Montgomery, AL is home to the National Museum for Peace and Justice, the only museum remembering the Black victims of lynchings in the United States. I hope to visit it but I know I’ll need to get my mind right for the mental toll it will likely have on me.)

My one critique I will address in the Black character analysis section.

Lastly, I cannot stress this enough. Do pay attention to the content warnings at the top of this essay. With the exception of this SciFi Black viewing,I watched it on television and now I get how they edit movies for television, including reducing or excising certain scenes. The sexual assault scene is one such scene that I don’t recall seeing. It was…a lot. Mercifully, it wasn’t explicit but still.

Black Character Analysis

Strange Days gives us two Black characters to analyze: Lornette “Mace” Mason played by Angela Bassett and Jeriko One played by Glenn Plummer.

Actor Angela Bassett plays Lornette “Mace” Mason a limo drive, single mom, and general badass.

Lornette “Mace” Mason

Mace is Lenny’s friend and a limousine driver, who is trained in weapons usage and martial arts training, and a mother to a young Black son. She is introduced twenty-six minutes into the movie via a phone call from Lenny who needs a ride after his car was towed for unpaid parking tickets. It’s a tight shot of her mouth, complete with red lipstick, and a gloved hand, holding a phone. No name given. 

Her first line of dialogue, What happened to your car this time?, lays out their dynamic. It suggests familiarity because there is no “hello” or “how you are.” It’s the lack of preamble just straight to the point. The use of “this time” indicates this happens quite a bit and, most importantly, she is often the person Lenny turns to. A lot is conveyed in a short span of minutes. In presenting her in this manner, it gives off an air of mystery and familiarity around Mace. 

Minutes later, she appears on screen, stepping out of a nice car dressed in a well-tailored black suit with a Mandarin style collared white shirt and shoulder length black braids. She walks with purpose and determination into a bar to locate Lenny. Her name “Mace” is a passing hello from Lenny upon her arrival.

Mace is the Strong Black Woman archetype crossed with the Girl Friday archetype, which is common in film noir. And, true to her being a Girl Friday she is the helper to the male protagonist but with some interesting twists as a result of her being a Strong Black Woman. 

As Melissa Harris-Perry notes in her book, this archetype can “quickly become a prison as it presents Black women as naturally strong and capable of withstanding anything. She is rendered superhuman rather than human with wants, needs, and emotions.” And that is Mace in this movie. She is a step up from the typical Girl Friday because she is well-versed in weapons and fighting, which the movie frequently showcases. It occurs so much that, in contrast to Mace’s capability, it highlights Lenny’s helplessness and vulnerability. She is calm, cool and collected compared to Lenny’s panicked floundering. She’s there to save him and pull him back because he seems incapable of doing it himself. Very much an infantilizing of a grown white man.

Don’t get me wrong, Angela Bassett kicks ass and looks amazing while doing it. I mean, there were moments where I thought this woman should’ve been Storm in an X-Men movie because good god she was mesmerizing to watch. At the same time, there were moments where I thought: wasn’t Lenny a cop? Does his training every kick in so he can be useful instead of a punching bag for everyone? And, to Harris-Perry’s point, when does Mace get a moment to breathe, to be tired, and get rest? If she does get it, it occurs off screen and then she returns onscreen to fulfil her role as sidekick and protector. 

Mace isn’t given sufficient interiority to explain why she would go to such lengths for this man, especially since, by her own account, she is a single mother with an ex-husband who doesn’t help her, financially or with child-rearing. It’s baffling that she would risk her life, even if it is to expose a high-profile execution-style murder, without at least a passing thought prior to the third act about her kid. It’s as if the movie forgets she is a mother.

The movie’s attempt to explain her presence by Lenny’s side is told via a flashback of how they first met and a ham-fisted third act romantic tension. By the movie’s reasoning, Lenny can’t see her unrequited love because he’s too focused on stalking his ex. Yes, I said stalking and obsessing over his ex. Mace spends the majority of the movie frustrated by Lenny, which all too easily comes off as anger (cue: Angry Black Woman parallels) than giving any indication of romantic interest. If anything their relationship gives toxic, one-sided friendship and, at times, bickering sister & brother vibes at best. It speaks to the fact that the writing didn’t know how to adequately seed that romantic interest throughout the movie. I wonder how much of this dynamic changed from Cameron’s original concept. In a movie this big with a lot to tell, something is bound to suffer.

That is the downside of the Strong Black Woman archetype: the overinflation of the strength, resiliency, and superhumanness of a Black woman that it loses sight of her as a flawed human being with wants, needs, and emotions. And, it can easily slide into Angry Black Woman archetype territory. At least with the Girl Friday, the unresolved sexual and/or romantic tension is more at the surface.

As an aside: It was interesting to watch this movie with a critical lens. What I remember is the third act and the romantic tension. I conflated it with being present throughout the whole movie. So, when I watched it as part of Scifi Black, there were many times I was like “girl, why are you friends with this man?” and “romantic tension, where??” Followed closely by, “who is watching your child while you’re doing all this?” granted that question is answered and the movie spans December 30-31.

To its credit, the movie doesn’t forget that Mace is a Black woman even if they lean into the Strong Black Woman archetype or make off-color comments ranging from jokes with racial overtones to racial slurs, which attests to a white writer’s rendering of Blackness and Black people. How will audiences know the character is Black if we don’t make comments, usually problematic, about them being Black or serving white people? Mace spends much of the movie in isolation from other Black people, until a four minute scene in the third act which introduces her son, her sister, and friends at a New Year’s Eve party.

It does seem to forget that she is a mother as she spends the vast majority of the movie playing the part of Girl Friday. There are passing mentions of her son until he makes his all too brief appearance in the third act.

Interestingly, in the final third act, when Mace faces off against the racist cops at the big New Years Eve party, she is arguably saved by a young boy only a little older than her son, which begs the question of where are his parents? When police back up arrives to assist the cops, she puts her hands up but that isn’t enough. They resort to beating her. Again the movie draws parallels to the Rodney King beating that still exists in the collective consciousness at this time in 1995. She cries out. She is a woman in pain, while decked out in a sequined cocktail dress. Here she is being humanized while enduring a dehumanizing experience. Once more, the crowd watches in stunned silence. It’s a young Black boy who breaks the bystander effect. With his cry of “get off her” and then jumps on the back of one of the attacking officers, the crowd of predominantly Black and brown faces intervene. When I watched the scene, I wondered if that young Black boy saw his own mother reflected back at him.

Jeriko One

Jeriko One is a prolific rapper stylized as a Malcolm X-esque figure, who meets a tragic end. His introduction to the narrative is twenty-four minutes in via a news program announcing his murder, which includes video clips of him giving a speech.

What we know of him comes from the news programs and through dialogue. He is doing good work within the community to end violence. The impact of his death to Black people is shown through Mace, as the only other Black character note within this movie. She is engaged and attentive to the news program in a way her white counterparts are not.  

However, as a character, he is filtered through a white lens, specifically he is an amalgamation of the Buck archetype and the Buck subtype which is the Brute. As the Brute, he is an expression of Black rage at the injustice of the American system and its systemic oppression of Black people. The news clips within the movie feature his inflammatory (read: to white people) speeches and rap music videos which use provocative imagery to remind America of its racist past. 

Additionally, and to a lesser extent, the Buck archetype comes into play with his predilection for white women. As Donald Bogle points out in his book, this plays into white men’s fear that Black men are oversexed and lust after white women. This concept was brought to the screen by D.W. Griffith’s highly racist and problematic 1915 film Birth of a Nation. 

Jeriko One falls all too easily into this trap, when his manager, a white British man, sends two white women over to him and his bandmate as companions for the night. Something Jeriko One happily accepts without pause for the racial dynamics at play, considering he is portrayed as an astute student of history. As I’ve mentioned in prior posts, racial violence for Black men, historically, comes as a result of proximity or perceived proximity to white women. 

His death isn’t even his story to tell but shot from the perspective of one of the white women who is wearing the SQUID technology. She sticks her fingers in his mouth as he sensually sucks in them and drives. They are pulled over by two racist cops, one who makes it very clear his distrust and dislike of Jeriko One as a Black man. Although not explicitly called out, the presence of these two white women are, I believe, a factor in his execution-style murder at the hands of a very racist cop, not to mention being racially profiled. Additionally Jeriko One’s response to being pulled over is to be overly antagonistic and hostile to the police to the point it feels like a too lengthy monologue to be real. The scene and Jeriko One’s reaction seems to play into the idea of the Black rage found in the Brute archetype to the point of absurdity.

Aside: Given that he’s modeled after Malcolm X this is…a choice, considering a number of prolific Black male civil rights leaders and activists dated and/or married Black women. Again, subtly typifying that this is a white lens placed on a Black man.

For Jeriko One, his importance to the movie isn’t the impact in the Black community which we do not get to see but his death at the hands of racism and a corrupt system. Yet, the movie, written and created by white people, expects after two plus hours for audiences to believe this system…which produced these cops and played an outsized military-esque force throughout the movie has that one uncorrupted police commissioner (read: white savior) who will get justice for Jeriko One and his bandmate.

Justice would be he wouldn’t have died in the first place. Or at least if he did, there would be an inclusion of the impact to the Black community.

On a special note: It’s interesting to watch this movie in 2025, in light of the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement. At the time of this filming, the Rodney King beating inflamed a city and captured national attention. With BLM and advanced technology, we have seen the proliferation of video footage capture Black people’s death and yet the world keeps spinning, largely unfazed and unchanged. I would argue that is the science fiction aspect of this movie. That one video of an unjust, racist murder would shake up a system.

So what does this movie tell us about Black people in American Science Fiction Films?

Black archetypes still exist. Black people often exist in isolation, separated not only from their community but their family. Their presence is still by and large in relation to their proximity to white characters. Lastly, when written by white people, the only way they know how to show their Blackness is to rely on problematic archetypes and racism. Both of these are an externalized view of Black people filtered through a white lens.

There is much, much more to Blackness and Black people than racism.

Thank you for reading. I will continue to produce other film essays and nonfiction book reviews. This series will be in addition to that work. Its category will be “Scifi Black.” As always I pride myself on quality vs. quantity so if you’re looking for regular content, produced on a timetable, you’ll be disappointed. Let’s bring back slower consumption of content to give ourselves time to think about what we watch. My thoughts and views are shaped by extensive reading. Check out my Bookshop Storefront for my ongoing list of books I highly recommend.

If you enjoyed reading this essay, consider showing your support by buying me a cup of coffee.

“Alexa, play End of the Road by Boyz II Men.”

The first thing I noticed in season 5 of Star Trek: Lower Decks was how little time the intrepid foursome: Mariner, Boimler, Tendi, and Rutherford spent together. I should add that T’Lyn, their Vulcan friend, is an honorary member who has more than sufficiently earned her spot. 

In that subtle shift away from the group, the stories expanded to include senior officers we’ve come to know but also minor characters such as the new class of ensigns. Without that anchor, the show felt tonally different. Still good but not as good as before. However, that’s the nature of life on a starship and within Starfleet. Careers are supposed to grow, expand, and evolve. Except you, Harry Kim (iykyk). 

I walked away from the series finale firmly believing the show’s cancellation was the right call. It was time for it to end as it would become increasingly difficult to justify the group staying together and being together all the time. They’re simply too smart and overqualified to remain in perpetual stasis for our enjoyment.

For me, at the heart of the show, and what drew me to it was friendship. Friendship in its most genuine and earnest form without the complicated baggage of romantic or sexual tension. 

Nerds geeking out over nerd things without judgement 

Rutherford and Tendi are immensely enjoyable in that they support the other In whatever esoteric interest they have. There is no judgement, just lots of enthusiasm. Of the inner friend group dynamics, theirs was my favorite, hands-down.

Season 5 saw these two apart and their struggles dealing with the loss of their friendship. For Tendi, it was doing everything to not be pirate-y while demonstrating how she has grown individually because of her Starfleet experience. She had to balance showing up for her parents and sister and balancing the person she’s become. 

For Rutherford, the loss of Tendi’s friendship was more acute. He worked and he enjoyed things but it wasn’t the same. T’Lyn, in her Vulcan wisdom, attempted to connect with him and assuage his loneliness by offering to help fix the shuttle he and Tendi would tinker with. Doing so, helped Rutherford face the reality that he missed Tendi and it wasn’t the same. While there was a speedy resolution, as 30 minutes, animated sitcoms tend to do, it reunited Tendi and Rutherford, while expanding room for a third friend who also liked to do nerd things even if she didn’t express it the way they do.

Iron sharpening Iron friendships

Boimler and Mariner, on the other hand, challenge each other. Theirs is a friendship built on understanding and mutual respect. Boimler is the eager-beaver, overly prepared but often lacking in confidence and courage. Mariner is the reckless, overly confident, fly by the seat of her pants, who doesn’t take the time to pause, consider, and come up with a better (read: safer) plan. Together, they complement each other.

Season 5 sees them very much settled in that dynamic with very little upset. What especially tugs on the heart strings is how their friendship transcends the multiverse. When transporter duplicate William Boimler meets alt-Mariner, he is excited to see her often saying how much he missed her and their friendship. Interestingly, through their interaction, we see the reverse: Boimler the adventurer and Mariner the cautious engineer. Even though she isn’t his Mariner, they fall easily into friendship.

This complementary nature even goes so far when both are appointed provisional first officer for the Cerritos in the series finale. A bit contrived in my personal opinion, but it hints to the audience that Boimler and Mariner and their adventures aren’t quite over yet…even if we don’t get to see them. Because, at the end of that road, they will eventually part ways to follow and nurture their careers.

New friends, same camaraderie 

Introduced in season 2 but with an expanded role in season 4, T’Lyn showed how she fit in with the established crew and cultivated her own relationships. She is the friend in the friend group who flits about like a butterfly between the two sets while cultivating her own friendships with each person, to varying degrees. This season showed T’Lyn more with Rutherford and Tendi. It is Tendi who she ends up sharing the role of senior science officer. Similar to Boimler and Mariner, another show contrivance that didn’t quite make sense. It could’ve been an interesting dynamic to explore how career opportunities may clash among friends, especially as they stay on the Cerritos. Albeit, season 5 lightly touched on this tension between T’Lyn and Tendi. However, it serves as another example of how it would become difficult to maintain the group as they move up in the ranks. Eventually, someone would have to leave for upward mobility.

Conclusion

Despite its end, Star Trek: Lower Decks was the balm we needed at the time. I mean, it did premiere during 2020 aka the early COVID years and we needed something bright and optimistic against a backdrop of uncertainty and death. The deep dive into friendships is what kept me going, made me smile, and laugh. Friendships are a grossly underrated relationship dynamic and I was immensely pleased Star Trek pivoted in this way. While I would love to see the show continue on for a few more years, I’d rather end on a relatively high note with only minor issues than have to increasingly suspend disbelief about how Starfleet careers work.

This film essay contains spoilers. Depicts violence and violence against woment.

Synopsis

In a dystopian Miami, a military veteran uses memory technology to track down his missing love.

Contextual Information

Reminiscence (2021) was the directorial debut of Lisa Joy, a screenwriter, director, writer, and executive producer. In 2013, the screenplay for the movie was listed on The Black List, an annual survey of best unproduced screenplays. It was six years later, in 2019, that the movie was financed with Joy as director. By then Joy had some amazing credits, mostly television, to her name: Westworld (HBO), Pushing Daisies (ABC), and Burn Notice (USA Networks). 

The movie stars Hugh Jackman as Nick Bannister, Rebecca Ferguson as Mae, and Thandiwe Newton as Emily “Watts” Sanders. By 2021, Jackman was well-known from his work in 20th Century Fox’s  X-Men franchise. Ferguson, a Swedish actor, became known to American audiences in the Tom Cruise-led Mission Impossible franchise. She made her debut in 2015 in Mission Impossible – Rogue Nation, the fifth movie in the franchise.

Compared to her costars, Newton, a British actor, has the longest acting career. Her first role was a coming of age story called Flirting which was filmed in 1989 but was shelved for two years. She had a series of small parts and co-starring roles in such movies as Interview With The Vampire (1994), Jefferson in Paris (1995), Beloved (1998), which was based on the novel by Toni Morrison and produced by Oprah Winfrey, which exposed her to Black American audiences. It wasn’t until the early 2000s that she became more widely known through such roles as Chronicles of Riddick (2004) and Crash (2004). By 2021, her star power rose even further due to HBO’s series Westworld, where she played Maeve Millay. Of note, Westworld was created by Lisa Joy and Jonathan Nolan.

Reminiscence was released in August 2021 in theaters and HBO Max. It was considered a box office bomb grossing only $16 million dollars against a $54 million dollar budget.

Movie Critique

At the heart of the movie is the love story between Nick (Jackman) and Mae (Ferguson). However, two pretty people cannot make up for poor chemistry. The movie did a disservice by not grounding the relationship in a meaningful way that made me care. Their relationship quickly got lost within the context of this dystopian, futuristic world and the larger politics at play. 

I found I was more interested in the larger plot and the story world than I was invested in learning what happened to Mae (Ferguson). Also the jumping into what are memories and “the real world” snags the forward momentum of the story quite a bit.

Aside: A reviewer on Letterboxd likened this movie to a poorly-executed version of Strange Days (1995), starring Ralph Fiennes and Angela Bassett. When I read that, it clicked why this movie reminded me of something but I didn’t know what. (Also, Strange Days is on the Scifi Black list).

Black Character Analysis

Reminiscence gives us one character to examine, Emily “Watts” Sanders, played by British actor Thandiwe Newton.

Emily “Watts” Sanders

Emily “Watts” Sanders is a lot of things. She is Nick Bannister’s friend, his right hand person in his business using memory tech, his conscience, his bodyguard, etc. Watts appears about five minutes into the movie. She walks into Bannister (Jackman)’s office and helps him with his tie in preparation for a client session, which is a choice movie. The scene transitions to the heart of Bannister’s business: the memory tech. Bannister is the showman, the guide for the process while Watts works the equipment and monitors the client in the pod.

Watts is the Girl Friday, which is a very common archetype within the film noir genre. The Girl Friday is essentially the faithful helper who's there to help the hero and, of course, there's a bit of unresolved sexual tension. 

Within the Black archetype framework, Watts’ is an amalgamation of different ones. I see shades of Aunt Jemima, in the sense that she is wedged into white culture and not regarded as a sexual being and demonstrates a level of devotedness to Bannister. The movie does hint at romantic feelings but it is unrequited, unresolved, and definitely one-sided. Bannister does not see Watts that way at all. Then there are shades of the Strong Black woman, especially suppressing her emotional needs while anticipating the needs of others. Watts suppresses her needs via her alcoholism. And, she’s there whenever Bannister needs help, even from himself. Neither of these are precise but their interplay coupled with The Girl Friday archetype adds double the emphasis of faithful helper (or servant) to the white, male hero. 

Despite all of this, nothing about Watts stands out as her being Black within this landscape. The character could be white and it wouldn’t change the character…which highlights the problem. Watts is portrayed by a Black biracial actor. 

The movie gives Watts’ all-too-brief opportunities to sketch out her backstory, specifically her being a veteran and an alcoholic. In the fleeting moments she has available to her, Watts is haunted, jaded, and estranged from her (off-screen) daughter. The alcoholism predates her military service, which intrigued me but was frustratingly left unexplored. 

One moment highlights Watts’ compassion. Following a shoot out, Watts has a moment with Saint Joe, an Asian character who resides in New Orleans. In true Girl Friday fashion, she appears at a critical moment in the hero’s story. In this case, she saves him from Saint Joe and his bodyguards. 

Both, in their own ways, were victims of the war. Both trying to forget it. After she mortally wounds him, they share a moment. It speaks to events that transpired during the war, where Saint Joe and those regarded as immigrants were rounded up and interned (America has a history of this) in New Orleans. Due to climate change or some other type of climatological goings on, the levees broke and the camps were flooded. People drowned. Saint Joe survived that and carries those wounds. Not much is known about Watts’ military experience other than she worked in munitions.

Watts mortally wounds Saint Joe. As she crouches near him, she tells him that he is slowly suffocating on his own blood, effectively drowning.

Watts: I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.

Saint Joe: Don’t let me die like they did in the camps.

Watts: Then we will part as friends.

He nods in agreement. In an act of mercy,  Watts shoots him, ending what would have been an agonizing death. 

That moment hints at so much unexplored depth for Watts, and to an extent Saint Joe.  Here are two minority characters who were impacted by the war in profound ways. Compared to Saint Joe’s experience, it isn’t apparent that, as a Black woman, that Watts was treated differently or unequally compared to Joe. Again, this speaks to, I think, how Watts is written as a neutral (read: white) character, not a Black one. 

If, in this future world, people who were regarded as different and rounded up, like Saint Joe, it would be implausible to believe that Black people would be untouched by this. Even if the focus was on immigrants, there are still Black immigrants. 

Taking it a step further, there’s an interaction between Saint Joe and Bannister that hints at the racial dynamics at play in the lead up to the war. He alludes that because Bannister was considered “all-American” (read: white) that he was spared the horrors that people who looked different endured.

Yet, within the landscape of this world, Watts was somehow spared? Talk about a suspension of disbelief. The United States has a long, harrowing history of how those who are deemed as “the other” are treated and the pervasive, insidious nature of anti-Blackness. This, again, emphasizes that Watts was not conceptualized as a Black character with the nuance and historical baggage that entails, especially in this dystopian future where the racial dynamics played a factor in how people were treated.

Additionally, It’s not lost on me that both of these characters’ paths cross and come to blows because of two white characters. Watts is there to rescue Bannister. Saint Joe engaged in a relationship with Mae (Ferguson) who stole from him. 

To be frank, the minority characters had far more interesting backstories that were alluded to than the two white leads who anchored this move. Thandiwe Newton, Daniel Wu (Saint Joe), and Cliff Curtis (Cyrus Boothe) deserved better. These characters exist only within the context of these white characters. In the case of Watts, there is the unexplored potential of Black motherhood. She is estranged from her daughter, presumably due to her alcoholism but that’s not a certainty. In movies, there is a tendency to isolate Black characters from other Black characters. They exist on an island unto themselves with their closest, frequent interactions with white characters. No mother. No father, no friend, no child, etc who looks like them.

Watts has one scene in the movie where Bannister is not around and that is with Mae.

Again, there is a history here between white women and Black women due to the vestiges of enslavement and Jim Crow. There can be tension and distrust, especially since white women also benefited from Black enslavement. The tension does leap off the page but the focus is on Bannister. Unlike Bannister, Mae has long suspected that Watts harbors unrequited feelings for him. In turn, Watts doesn’t trust Mae because there’s a shiftiness to her that Watts doesn’t trust. Ultimately, the conversation is a deception on Mae’s part to gain access to reminiscence (memories of people). Here she uses Watts’ alcoholism to do it. This scene would fail the Bechdel-Wallace test. 

In the end, Watts does get a happy ending as it shows her with her granddaughter, visiting Bannister in his self-imposed prison where he relives his days with Mae. Here she is shown in relationship to another Black character. Unfortunately, the focus on Nick in this scene doesn’t come off as heartwarming because of the Aunt Jemima-influenced archetype. She is still serving the white hero even in her old age.

What does this Movie say about Black People in American Science Fiction Films?

Our proximity, in this case physical and storytelling-wise, is still predicated on white people, even when we have far more compelling but unexplored stories of our own. Bringing in other archetypes to craft a Black character inherently changes the interpretation because Blackness has nuance, depth, and history to it and how others, especially white characters, interact with them. For Black female characters, there is the added layer of having an identity and interiority outside of a man, something that is also a problem with white female characters.

Lastly, and my personal bone of contention, if a Black character could be subbed in for a white actor and it does not change anything….that character is white-coded. Because in American films, whiteness is viewed as the standard rather than one of many racial options.

Thank you for reading. I will continue to produce other film essays and nonfiction book reviews. This series will be in addition to that work. Its category will be “Scifi Black.” As always I pride myself on quality vs. quantity so if you’re looking for regular content, produced on a timetable, you’ll be disappointed. Let’s bring back slower consumption of content to give ourselves time to think about what we watch. My thoughts and views are shaped by extensive reading. Check out my Bookshop Storefront for my ongoing list of books I highly recommend.

If you enjoyed reading this essay, consider showing your support by buying me a cup of coffee.

In Season 3, episode 5 of And Just Like That, the Sex And The City revival on HBO, I finished the episode with a general feeling of something clicking into place. Perhaps it was the humor. Seeing the foursome, Seema substituted for Samantha, at lunch, or Harry and Charlotte taking their dog for an evening walk, but something felt right. As if this was the show becoming what I wanted it to be: a mature version of SATC that takes into account all the main characters are women in their 50s navigating life. I say this as a woman who newly entered her fourth decade on this planet and who has a near insatiable hunger for stories about women, and people really, "of a certain age."

Taking a momentary break from film essays, I want to dip my toes into television. After the episode, I had a number of thoughts I wanted to explore, specifically, how this intersection of nostalgia, bingeing content, and shorter seasons makes it difficult for most television shows to hit the "third season stride." I want to use And Just Like That (AJLT) which recently entered its third season, to build out this peculiar television landscape we now found ourselves in.

What is the third season stride?

This is purely an observational theory. Back in "ye olden days of cable television" before streaming was even a thing, it was typically around the third season that a new show found its footing and hit its stride. Seriously, go back and watch The Office, 30 Rock, Parks & Rec. The characters and storylines come together and the humor is on point. 

The first season lives under the threat of cancellation while building its case to like the characters and the show. The second season often ditches what wasn't working well in the first season, characters or storylines or setting, maybe even introduce a new character or two to liven up the dynamic. Now it becomes a game of "do you like this newly revised version?" 

If a show makes it to the third season, the threat of cancellation feels like it's finally in the rear view mirror. Now the fun really begins. The characters feel more real. The actors have had time to settle into them. There is an imperceptible shift when all the elements have finally come together.

AJLT follows this trajectory albeit with different factors in play.

The Nostalgia Factor

I, for one, partially blame my fellow millenials for this nostalgia tidal wave we're all drowning in.** Many in my cohort are taking umbrage with the fact we're getting older. Therefore, we've been longing for those things from our youth and teenage years and then combine that with the world turning into a flaming dumpster fire. Movie producers and television shows are more than happy to capitalize on the need for escapism, especially the IPs that are guaranteed cash grabs. 

SATC is no exception, especially as younger generations (think: Gen X and younger) are either discovering the show for the first time or watching it with fresh eyes. I was barely a teenager when the show originally aired. I didn’t watch it until I was in my 30s and coincidentally living in a big city (Philadelphia, represent!) for the first time in my life. When Twitter was still a thing, I even tweeted my thoughts like why I’m neither Team Carrie and Big nor Team Carrie and Aiden. I much preferred her with Berger. 

I neither wanted nor needed to revisit these characters, especially after two movies and knowing the fraught tension between Sarah Jessica Parker and Kim Cattrall. 

However, all the major networks, movie studios, and streaming platforms were jumping on the nostalgia bandwagon. HBO was no exception.

The problem with nostalgia is that when you revisit the thing, it isn’t the same. It won’t be. Time has passed. People have changed, physically and emotionally. Times have changed and so has the political landscape. Sometimes, and sadly, the original actors have health problems or have died. 

Reboots or revivals will never be what they were because they existed at a specific point in the cultural landscape. For example, the humor of a tv show that ended 20 years ago isn’t going to be a one-to-one transfer to now. At least 20-30% of the jokes would likely get flagged as highly problematic, and rightfully so. In bringing it back and into a new, different cultural landscape it inherently becomes a new thing.

For me, it’s similar to adapting a movie into a television show or a television show into a movie. Or a book into a movie or television show. Something is going to shift or get lost in the translation. Therefore, I don’t go into it expecting the original but this new thing and hoping it holds my attention.

That’s where the nostalgia factor can backhand the attempt. The changes can’t be too great for the audience because the need for escapism, creating that feeling, is incredibly (and unrealistically) high. AJLT was no exception as SATC fans were upset and vocal about Kim Cattrall not being on the show, despite knowing full well that Cattrall was firm in not wanting to work with Parker again. And the first season, second season, and even into the third season, fans still have that opinion. Their need for nostalgia trumps the lived experience of the actor in the role. It’s the equivalent of saying, “I know it was a shitty work environment for you and you’ve moved on BUT what about what I want?!”

And let’s be real, AJLT is about a group of people in their 50s. They won’t still be living the lives they had in their 30s/early 40s, like in SATC. That alone says adjust “your expectations accordingly.” Seeing the characters and the actors getting older, remind viewers that they too have gotten older which undercuts the escapism of it all.

Don’t get me wrong AJLT has its problems. Some of the changes and storytelling aspects could have/should have been handled differently. Those cracks are still there even in season three. Yet because of its cultural impact, a cast of (mostly) white women in an era where anything that reeks of diversity is being brutally rolled back, and the sheer volume of people still tuning in even if it's a hate watch, is what ensures the show made it to a third season, despite declining viewership.

Nostalgia is a helluva drug.

Binge, baby, binge

An interesting reset in this television landscape is the shift from weekly episode drops like in “the olden days of television” to dropping whole seasons back to weekly episode drops. 

Why the shift to binging content? To be frank, I don’t entirely know. I can only speculate that dropping whole seasons allowed shows to dominate the content cycle (articles, think pieces, social media) for a while and with greater force. Even a few days feels like a lifetime on social media and in this era of the 24 hour news cycle. I believe networks and streaming platforms would see this spike in activity that, on its face, seemed exciting. With that spike more than likely saw increased revenue. However, over time (i.e. longer than a month) it would dramatically drop as American social media moved on. Think about it: If everyone is talking about this show on a streaming platform, I mean, it's dominating the conversation, people who aren’t on that platform will subscribe. Then what happens? They binge the show so they can be in on the conversation.

Much like nostalgia, FOMO is a helluva drug. 

Afterward, what happens? People cancel their subscriptions. A trend of this increased revenue only for it to drop off quickly didn’t pay the dividends these networks and streaming platforms would’ve liked.

The solution? Bring back weekly episode drops. This allows for the conversation around a particular show to last longer. It keeps it in the forefront of people’s minds even in the midst of this social media deluge. Now when people subscribe it’s more of a commitment than before. Now that they are on these platforms, these streaming services and networks can entice them to stay with other shows. 

They traded a rapid spike in activity with an immediate drop off for a slower building climb and slower drop off. These days “a long time” need only be longer than a month, ideally a fiscal quarter because most corporations look quarterly.

AJLT came on the scene during this shift back to weekly episode drops. As I previously mentioned, despite the drop in viewership, the show is generating discussion and articles. It would be interesting to see how this translates to people revisiting SATC. After all, I don’t think it's a coincidence that when each episode finishes, HBO offers up SATC. For example, if I finish watching AJLT season 3, episode 4, once the credits roll HBO will prompt me to watch SATC season 3, episode 5. 

I’d really love to see those numbers because I’m pretty sure that (along with other factors) is why AJLT is kept on the air. The streaming platforms are pulling out different tricks to keep you on the platform.

Shorter seasons

I remember two things relevant to this discussion: when television shows used to have 20+ episode seasons and becoming a fan of British television shows because they had shorter seasons. 

Harkening back to earlier, during the olden days of cable television, it was common to have over 20 episode seasons. Comedy or drama, it didn’t matter. It was a commitment that spanned several months (minimum 5 months upwards 6-7 months) with summer being the natural break. Let’s be real, with that many episodes, not all of them would be bangers. Some would be “just ok.” A few would be forgettable or commonly referred to as filler. Aside: Interestingly, I can tolerate that with comedy more than I can a drama. At least with comedy I get a laugh or two. With a drama, it can irk my spirit if I got a filler in the middle of a big season-long tension-filled arc. 

Conversely, I watched a lot of indie movies coming up which had me watching movies and television shows from the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I became a fan of the shorter seasons not because it was less of a commitment but more so that the storytelling was tighter. There wasn’t room for filler episodes. It was after the fact, I learned that the BBC could be brutal in its cancellation of shows. Nevermind canceling a show at the end of the season and not renewing it, the BBC would cancel it during the season. On the air one week, gone the next. I think, because of that high fail rate, shows (and writers) had to bring it. Like it's the fourth quarter, down by 10 points-kind of stakes. I don’t even want to think about how unhealthy and precarious that work environment was for writers and actors. (I mean, I do but not unpacking it here).

Again a purely observational theory but, I think, the shift to shorter seasons was rooted in cost. Less overhead for production if tv shows nixed the 20+ seasons in favor of ten. The earliest network show that I can remember doing this is HBO with Game of Thrones (2011-2019). Compare that to Netflix. One of their oldest original tv shows was House of Cards (2013-2018) with a 13-episode season, until the last season which was reduced to 8. That shift to shorter seasons, if using GOT as reference, was a slow build until it’s become quite common now regardless of platform.

AJLT fits perfectly within this new landscape whereas its mother show, SATC, fits closer to that old model. With the exception of season 1, most of the SATC seasons were 18 episodes.

On the flip side is with the shorter seasons and the proliferation of streaming, it shortchanged two things: writers and storytelling. The 2023 writers’ strike by the Writers Guild of America touched on the issue of pay when it comes to writing in this digital era. The television landscape is very different now with streaming platforms (Netflix, Hulu, etc), network-created ones (Peacock, HBO Max), and corporation-created (Disney+) platforms in the mix. How to translate pay for a network show vs a streaming service wasn’t being calculated the same, more often than not in favor of the company. Writers shared how their checks amounted to pennies on the dollar for even the most popular television shows which were doing robust numbers on streaming. 

Conversely, shorter seasons means writers have to lock down multiple projects in a year. Think about it. In the past, longer seasons (20+ episodes) meant months of steady work, at least 5 months for a season. If a writer was brought back after the “summer break” for the next season, that meant they were only faced with 2-3 months of downtime. Now, shorter seasons, at best, mean 2-3 months of work. And don’t get me started on how some of these shows are taking a full year to two year break in between seasons.

AJLT narrowly missed being directly impacted by the writers’ strike. Filming for season 2 concluded one month before the strike began.  Based purely on speculation, the writers’ 4-month strike likely delayed AJLT production. Additionally, the quality of the storytelling contains several missteps and misfires. Season 1’s handling of Miranda’s sexuality for one was messy and didn’t give space for handling it with care. The same can go for the handling of Carrie’s grief. That could have been a moment of deeper reflection and growth for Carrie but it’s apparent the show wanted to fast track that to get her back on the dating scene.

The addition of three new characters felt like an attempt to increase diversity but not knowing exactly what to do with them. In turn, it resulted in choppy cuts between characters to give all of them their screen time. Season 2 saw some storylines beginning to settle and some characters dropping off to reduce choppiness. Now, Season 3 feels like they have more of a handle on what and where they’re going. Doesn’t mean that scenes don’t feel rushed or characters are still getting shortchanged. 

A Big Aside about Character Development

As not-quite-a-fan but not a casual viewer, the commentary around it from fans is interesting to behold. There’s a lot of hate-watching which HBO is loving as it keeps the show in their top 5 for the company. How I’m able to watch the show is knowing that it’s an example of people “getting older” but not necessarily evolving. The traits that fans hate and harp on, if we’re being honest, were there in the original show. The thing is, these characters didn’t grow as people and learn from their mistakes. They’re just repeating them in different iterations in their 50s. That’s what happens when there isn’t pause for reflection. Also, there is definitely thinly disguised ageism that forms people’s reception to the show. These characters hit differently when the actors who play them are deemed by some as “not fuckable.” (not me saying but what I’m seeing) In turn, it’s a reminder that viewers are older. And from what I’m seeing, people, especially in the United States, abhor being reminded they are getting older.

My body reminds me everyday when I wake up and when warm ups/cool downs became a requirement for any workout no matter the intensity level and when daily 10-15 minute stretching became part of my routine and me jumping on the vitamins train complete with those M-F pill containers. It’s me having more in common with people who are in their 50s and 60s. I’m not 20. I’m 40. It is what it is. To borrow from the youths, it’s interesting to see folks “crash out” about it.

Conclusion

Love it or hate it but AJLT seems hell-bent on staying….as long as folks show up to watch it.

**Not trying to start a generation war here, rather highlighting the types of conversations I'm seeing in my generation. As the dumpster fire keeps happening, more and more people, not just millennials are seeking escapism. If we're being really-real and sharing thinky-thoughts, the United States has a complex about aging in general. 

This film essay contains spoilers. Movie contains gruesome deaths and body dismemberment.

Synopsis

A team of scientists is tasked with understanding a spaceship that crash landed in the Pacific Ocean. The alien artifact they find inside unleashes a power they do not expect. 

Contextual Information

Sphere (1998) is a screen adaptation of Michael Crichton’s book, Sphere, published in 1987. The book was adapted by Kurt Wimmer. The movie was directed by Barry Levinson, known for such movies as Rain Main (1988), which won an Oscar for Best Director, and Good Morning, Vietnam (1987), starring Robin Williams (RIP funny man).

Dustin Hoffman joined the cast because of Levinson, who he had previously worked with on several projects, including Rain Man. Hoffman is the lead as Dr. Norman Goodman. Rounding out the cast was Sharon Stone as Dr. Elizabeth “Beth” Halpern and Samuel L. Jackson as Dr. Harry Adams. Stone was well-known for her role in Basic Instinct (1992) for which she earned her first Golden Globes award nomination. After that she was often cast in femme fatale, sex symbol-esque roles, then leading women roles such as The Quick and the Dead (1995).

Samuel L. Jackson had a number of minor roles in movies such as Spike Lee’s School Daze (1988) and Do The Right Thing (1989), in John Landis’ Coming To America (1988), which was originally created by comedian Eddie Murphy, and in Martin Scorese’s Goodfellas (1990). Jackson’s breakout role was in Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction (1994). For context, Pulp Fiction was Jackson’s 30th movie. From it, he got a Best Supporting Actor nomination for the Oscars and the Golden Globes. He won the BAFTA award for Best Supporting Role.

I was surprised to see Queen Latifah in the movie credits. Dana Owens, aka Queen Latifah, was first known in the Black community as a rapper. By the time Sphere came out, she had dropped four albums and held a Grammy. Concurrent with her rap career, she starred in Living Single (1993-1998) an iconic Black sitcom of six Black people living in New York City. It was the blueprint for Friends. With her star on the rise on television, Queen Latifah branched out into movies. She starred in Set It Off (1996), opposite Jada Pinkett, Vivica A. Fox, and Kimberly Elise. The Black community and film critics praised her performance as Cleo Sims. The movie was a box office success, grossing $41 million dollars against a $9 million dollar budget.

Principal photography for Sphere took 68 days from March to July 1997. 

Sphere opened on February 13, 1998. It only grossed $73 million dollars worldwide against a reported budget of $80 million dollars. It was regarded as a box office failure.

Movie Critique

For a first time watch, Sphere is one of the first sci-fi films that I've seen that felt like a mess. I even wrote down in my notes “an illusionary mess” because it deals with illusions and the power of manifestations. 

Now, as I mentioned in the prior section, it was an adaptation of a Michael Crichton book under the same title. After reading the plot for the book, I can see where the movie went left, thereby attributing to how messy it feels. Apparently, there is a scene in the book in which one of the characters encounters an alien in the sphere, who talks about humanity's power of imagination. Essentially, we hold within us incredible power to create…and destroy.

Without that context in the movie, it was unclear what was happening or why it was happening. It opened up a whole host of (unanswered) questions that would have given critical context to understanding what happened in the sphere and the subsequent events that unfolded in the movie.  

I was left feeling unsatisfied and generally meh.

Black Character Analysis

Sphere gives us two Black characters to assess: Dr. Harry Adams, played by Samuel L. Jackson, and Alice “Teeny” Fletcher, played by Queen Latifah.

Dr. Harry Adams

Dr. Harry Adams (Samuel L. Jackson) doesn’t adhere to any particular Black archetype that I could see. However, that does not mean his character did not fall into some problematic portrayals for Black people. Let's look at the optics. Adams is presented about seven minutes into the movie. It’s a quick moment. He is in the background of a scene, positioned behind Dr. Elizabeth Halpern (Sharon Stone). His body is even angled away from the camera so we see a side profile versus facing the camera. The moment is so quick that if you blink, you might miss him or at least not readily notice him. It’s an additional two minutes into the scene, in which he speaks, before you even know his name. Contrast that with all of the white characters who have been introduced and their names known to the audience. 

Adams is quickly established as the logical voice of reason. He is the one asking the important questions with a healthy dose of skepticism: Why should we (the team) be doing this? Should we (the team) be doing this? As the only Black character on the main team he is readily and easily dismissed by others, despite his credentials. This is where the writing unknowingly (or unknowingly, I don’t know these people) brings in biases. There is a subtle power dynamic at play that is rooted in white supremacy. Arguably it’s his Blackness, not his credentials or expertise, that makes it all too easy for the white members on the team to disregard his skepticism while claiming to respect him. 

Let’s take it a step further, America is a settler-colonial state created by Europeans who adopted whiteness as the marker of superiority. Therefore those who are perceived as white and accept whiteness (see Italians and Irish) at the expense of their own cultural background adopt this sense of superiority. Contrast that with the Black American experience of enslavement and the experience of being forcibly taken on ships across the Atlantic Ocean and into the unknown and onto a foreign land. It’s entirely plausible that Adams’ skepticism is rooted in that epigenetic unease of going to a place and in a space that is foreign and unknown with the very real possibility of danger. Just the conditions to get to the spaceship takes the team into the depths of the ocean where the pressure alone could kill. Whereas, for the white team members, rooted in their settler-colonialist view of the world, their scientific curiosity takes precedence. 

This unease and skepticism shapes Adams’ behavior in the first act of the movie. He shows no desire to be in the water longer than necessary or even at the underwater site. When a bad storm in the Pacific Ocean threatens the team's stay, Adams and Dr. Norman Goodman (Dustin Hoffman) are thrilled to leave, each for their own reasons. Interestingly, it’s Dr. Ted Fielding (Liev Schreiber) who is adamant about staying. 

The following scene between Adams and Goodman demonstrates the brilliance of Adams while inserting a sharp departure to his characterization. At this point, the team has entered the spaceship to discover it was an American space ship from the future. It experienced an “unknown event entry” that somehow ties into the presence of the golden, shimmery sphere. As Adams and Goodman get ready for bed, Adams posits a theory that is the basis for the movie. Seriously, the movie will circle back to his point. 

His theory is this: The team (meaning them) must die down here because if they survived, the whole world would know about the sphere, which would mean that the future Americans on the spaceship would also know about the sphere. However, since their logs indicate they did not know about it and experienced an “unknown event,” Adams surmises quite grimly, their team dies down here. (Did you follow all of that?)

Adams’ deductive reasoning spooks Goodman. Then, rather ominously as his face is cast into darkness, Adams says “I wish I could take a look in that sphere.”

I remember being jarred by that statement. Suddenly, the skeptical, rational Adams, Mr. I’m-ready-to-leave-when-yall-are seems to want to stay. This is made even more absurd that in the next scene, Adams does exactly that. Without telling anyone, he suits up, goes into the water, walks into the spaceship, and into the sphere. All of this goes against how Adams was established up to this point. Of the characters most likely to walk into the sphere, my money was on Fielding, hands down.

My problem with this character choice is that, once he enters the sphere, Adams is essentially sidenlined for large portions of the movie. Again, let’s look at the optics. The one Black character in the team of scientists makes a choice that is clearly out of alignment with their character and then rendered a largely absent character for much of the movie. He spends most of the movie being cryptic, disappearing and reappearing. As events begin to unfold and tragedy strikes, Adams is nowhere to be found. Not only that he isn’t mentioned or referenced by the other characters during these crises. It’s as if they forget he exists as a character. Yet, the things they are encountering are harmful manifestations created by his imagination.

To his credit, Jackson plays up the looks and glances. That way of smiling that could make anyone feel a little uneasy because there seems to be more behind it.

Alice “Teeny” Fletcher

The crash site is monitored by two Navy personnel, one of whom is Alice “Teeny” Fletcher (Queen Latifah). She, like Edmonds the other Navy officer, is a background character, who monitors the habitat and the spaceship. As the events of the movie unfold, they are characters who are there to die a horrific death. It doesn’t escape my notice that both of them are women and minority characters.

Similar to Adams, what I find problematic is that Fletcher makes a decision that seems out of character for who they’ve shown her character to be. For the vast majority of her screen time, she does her job. She’s at her station. She seldom deviates from her work responsibilities. In fact, she meets her horrific end in the midst of doing her job. Every twelve hours, the data loggers in the habitat, which record everything, have to be changed out. The footage is stored in the mini-sub. They reset the clock from the mini-sub to then capture the next twelve hours. This ensures they will have a record of things. To do this, Fletcher (or Edmonds) must suit up and go into the water.

Fletcher deposits the recordings in the mini-sub and resets the tapes. Then, she decides to take a little stroll, a little look around. She comes across what she identifies as jellyfish, jellyfish which can sting. We’re not talking one or two but half a dozen. At no point, even as more appear and draw closer to her, does her survival instinct kick in. Now, as a Black viewer of this scene, this scene required an unparalleled suspension of disbelief that a Black character would make this choice and behave in this manner when their very life depended on it. 

What makes Fletcher’s death even more horrific is the public spectacle, specifically the audio of her death being broadcasted to the crew in the habitat. She is being painfully stung to death and no one stirs or comes to her aid. Goodman, a psychologist, listens with a dispassionate, bordering on bored, look on his face as he drinks his coffee. She is dying and screaming and no one moves. 

Interesting how it's only the white men who are shown reacting. Adams, a Black man, is nowhere to be found, nor is Beth and Edmonds, both women, shown. These are three people who share a marginalized identity with Fletcher and yet they are frustratingly absent. This scene is only seven years after the 1991 assault of Rodney King by officers of the Los Angeles Police Department. The footage, captured by George Holliday, was broadcast on television of these officers beating him. This movie is not far removed from the subsequent 1992 Los Angeles riots in response to the verdict in which the three officers were acquitted by a jury with no Black people on it (ten white people, one Indigenous person, one Asian).

If that were not enough, the following scene cuts to a close up of Fletcher's bruised, swollen, and bloodied body, further dehumanizing her. I’d liken it to the lynching photographs and postcards of Black people. It’s about the spectacle of their body on display and not their personhood. Much like Goodman, Halperin is dispassionate in her examination of Fletcher’s body and pulling the jellyfish stingers off of her and out of her. It’s graphic.

An aside: When Adams (later) inquires about where Fletcher is, he says “Where’s Teeny? She does all the cooking.” The optics don’t look great for referring to and relegating a Navy service person as the cook…when nowhere in the movie does it show her cooking for the team. It’s giving a dash of Mammy/Aunt Jemima, considering Fletcher is a plus size woman. Even more disheartening that the line is coming from a Black man about a Black woman. The writing choices here in regards to the Black characters are a choice.

One Last Thing

In preparation for writing this piece, I was watching a movie review by Dr. Michelle Taylor, aka Feminista Jones. Dr. Taylor is a cinephile and an Afrocentric scholar. I’ve been doing considerable reading on Afrocentricity. In her Straw review, she touched on the concept of whether a character was culturally depicted as Black and she gave examples. That stuck with me.

Adams and Fletcher, despite being portrayed by Black actors, do not read as culturally Black. It’s a way of being that, if I’m honest, I can’t quite articulate as a Black person to non-Black people (or readers). It’s something I know when I see it. For example, refer back to Event Horizon film essay. There were small touches to indicate Captain S.J. Miller was Black. That being said, it tracks why Adams and Fletcher’s choices feel not just out of step but wrong to me. Those choices were rooted in them progressing the plot forward versus organic to their characters, regardless of race. It just makes it more glaring because of their race.

So what does this Movie say about Black People within American science fiction films?

Black characters can deviate from the established archetypes…if someone is willing to put in the effort, which Sphere does to a degree. However, when an actor’s or character’s race is taken into account it does unknowingly recontextualize how they are perceived, interacted with, and react to unfolding events. 

Sphere misstepped in its characterization that took me out of the movie. Essentially, I could not believe the Black characters would make the choices they did on top of contributing to the “an illusionary mess.”

Thank you for reading. I will continue to produce other film essays and nonfiction book reviews. This series will be in addition to that work. Its category will be “Scifi Black.” As always I pride myself on quality vs. quantity so if you’re looking for regular content, produced on a timetable, you’ll be disappointed. Let’s bring back slower consumption of content to give ourselves time to think about what we watch. My thoughts and views are shaped by extensive reading. Check out my Bookshop Storefront for my ongoing list of books I highly recommend.

If you enjoyed reading this essay, consider showing your support by buying me a cup of coffee.

This film essay contains spoilers. Movie contains nudity, gruesome death, and body dismemberment.

Synopsis

The medical crew of the Nightingale responds to a mysterious message for help. Who they find on the end of the call and what they bring on board threatens not only the crew but the universe.

Contextual Information 

Supernova was a clusterfuck in the making. A lot to unpack so let’s speed through it.

Development and Production

This movie has three directors: Walter Hill, Jack Sholder, and Francis Ford Coppola, which bodes well (sarcasm) for the movie. In particular, Walter Hill is credited as Thomas Lee, which I found out is a directorial pseudonym for when a director doesn’t want to be associated and/or have their name attached to a project.

The original concept for the movie was pitched in 1990 by horror filmmaker William Malone called “Dead Star.” The premise centered on a space expedition that discovers an alien artifact that unleashes an evil force. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Pictures (MGM) bought the project and brought on additional writers to work on the story. The “space expedition” became a space medical ship.

Principal shooting occurred April to July 1998. During filming, Hill’s budget was slashed. Editing took 24 weeks and didn’t include the special effects. However, MGM pushed for test screenings, despite Hill’s protests. It tested badly. 

Then, Jack Sholder was brought onto the project to re-edit it, which included doing re-shoots for the cast. Think about that: The cast was brought back six months later to reshoot parts of a movie.

Sholder’s version eliminated scenes that helped with character development, beefed up James Spader’s character, and added more humor. It did well with test audiences BUT MGM experienced a change in executives who, despite the positive test screenings, didn’t like Sholder’s version. They went back to Hill, who wanted $5 million dollars to fix the movie. MGM said no and Hill left the project once and for all.

In August 1999, MGM board member Francis Ford Coppola re-edited the movie. Guess what? This new version tested badly as well. Basically, MGM wanted a cool, sexy science fiction movie. 

In October 1999, MGM sold the movie to a different production company.

Released two years later on January 14, 2000, Supernova was considered a box office bomb, only grossing $14.8 million against a $90 million dollar budget. For context, the movie opened alongside Next Friday and the wide releases of Girl, Interrupted and The Hurricane. Basically, this movie didn’t stand a chance against those heavy hitters.

The Cast

Our two leads are James Spader, who played Nick Vanzant, and Angela Bassett, who played Dr. Kaela Evers. The antagonist was Peter Facinelli, who plays Karl/Troy Larson. 

Spader began his career in more teenage/young adult-oriented films, such as Pretty in Pink (1985) and Mannequin (1987). His breakout role came in Sex, Lies, and Videotapes (1989) for which he received Cannes Film Festival’s Best Actor Award. His supporting role in Stargate (1994) was his first foray into science fiction movies. 

Comparatively, Angela Bassett was coming off a string of interesting, well-known projects such as Boyz in The Hood (1991), Malcolm X (1992), What’s Love Got to Do With It (1993), for which she won a Golden Globe and received her first Oscar nomination for Best Actress, Waiting to Exhale (1995), and How Stella Got Her Groove Back (1998). Essentially, the 1990s was a very active decade for Bassett and arguably cemented her importance to the Black community as a recognizable Black actor for the time. Side note: In two of her projects, Boyz in the Hood and What’s Love Got To Do With It, she played opposite Laurence Fishburne. Bassett previously dipped her toes in science fiction with Strange Days (1995) opposite British actor Ralph Fiennes.

Of the three, Facinelli had a shorter career by comparison. He had a string of supporting roles, starting back in 1995. By the time of Supernova’s release he was most recognizable for his supporting role in Can’t Hardly Wait (1998), a teen romantic comedy.

Movie Critique 

For transparency's sake, I first saw this movie years ago. At least 15 years ago. What drew me to it was a young James Spader. I had a thing for redheads.

That being said, after watching the movie and then doing research on its history, I was flabbergasted to hear that pretty much no one liked this movie from the directors to the actors. I found the old trailer on YouTube. It certainly set very different expectations and yes, it did in fact include several scenes that the movie did not include. It was overly emphasized as this sexy romp which wasn’t the vibe to me while watching. Did it have sexy moments? Yes. But a sexy romp in space….no.

The major critique I will mention here is that because with so many “cooks in the kitchen” and the packaging of this movie, it failed to capitalize on what I consider the real story. Keep reading for more.

Black Character Analysis

Dr. Kaela Evers

Dr. Kaela Evers, played by Angela Bassett, is our first opportunity in this series to discuss Black women and the archetypes placed on them. Donald Bogle does touch on this in his book but for a more up-to-date rendering, I turned to Melissa Harris-Perry and her book Sister Citizen: Shame, Stereotypes, and Black Women in America.

After an opening crew montage, our first introduction to Dr. Kaela Evers is roughly three minutes in. Rather than showing her in her off time like the rest of the crew, she is giving a physical to co-pilot Nick Vanzant, a recently reinstated pilot and recovering Hazen addict. She is professional, asking relevant questions, and making keen observations, specifically, Vanzant’s self-isolation from the crew. He counters with a “less than stellar” critiques of the crew. 

Her professionalism becomes curt tinged with defensiveness at his remarks. She responds, “I’ve been on six paramedic tours with this crew. They get the job done.” 

In her second scene, yet again with Vanzant, Dr. Evers is…again shown working. She is learning about a laser scalpel while she eats her lunch alone. There is no clear indication about how much time has passed but Vanzant is following up to let her know he’s taken her advice to heart to get to know the crew, including her. This is the first time we get a hint of interest from Vanzant toward Dr. Evers.

There’s still residual tension between them. Vanzant tries to get to the root of this when he inquires about what her issue is with him. This exchange reveals quite a bit without being overt:

Evers: I don’t like Hazen. I don’t like what it does to people who take it. I don’t like what they do to others. I used to know someone….

Vanzant: I’m not someone.

Evers: (pause) I didn’t say you were.

After this exchange, Vanzant returns the pills Evers prescribed to him to help with the Hazen side-effects. He says to her “Heal thyself doctor.”

It’s this exchange that sealed for me that Dr. Evers fits the strong Black woman archetype. There is a guardedness mixed with other emotions within her. It’s telling that, thus far in the movie, our only scenes of Dr. Evers is her working. This is one aspect of the archetype, but also the emotional restraint she shows despite something percolating under the surface that Vanzant astutely notices. Her guardedness even extends to the crew who she was quick to defend from his criticism. However, she is not shown hanging out with or getting to know them on a personal level, like they are with each other. She is doing the exact thing that Vanzant is doing albeit differently. 

Arguably, the failure to show Evers socializing with the crew could be rooted in anti-Blackness because white writers may have had a hard time conceptualizing what a Black woman would be doing in her “off time.” Not to mention, her screen time is often attached to a white co-star. She is seldom shown by herself, which doesn’t allow space for her interiority to come through. 

Vanzant and Evers do end up having sexual relations. Vanzant’s interest in Evers is known early on. For Evers, while consensual, her reasons are known only to herself. Maybe it was a moment to pass the time, while having a drink with a coworker. Maybe it’s a means to destress after a harrowing experience or seek comfort, especially given that Evers was unable to save Captain Marley following their jump into hyperspace. None of this interiority is known, which is maddening.

This leads me to my biggest critique of Supernova. The movie isn’t actually about the alien creation bomb the writers, directors, and studio tried to push. Or, the sexy romp they try to sell us in the misguided trailer.

Kaela Evers is the story. She is the fulcrum by which all of this pivots. To not lean into this was a missed opportunity. Supernova would have been a far more effective movie if it leaned into the real story of a domestic abuse survivor coming face to face with her abuser and winning. 

It’s not lost on me that, of the crew, she gets the emotional short-shift. It’s not lost on me that she is also the only Black character. Secondarily, the inability to see the domestic abuse aspect of it, can arguably be attributed to the fact that most of the storytelling and the editing process was done by men. They understand who the villain is but they didn’t think too deeply about the violence he inflicts, especially on the women in this movie. And, most importantly, this was crafted by white men who more than likely brought their inherent racial views on who is and is not considered a victim. 

Let’s back track

The crew of the Nightingale gets pulled into this nightmare when they receive a direct call (think: 911) with the name Karl James Larson attached to it. 

On hearing that name, for the first time, Evers shows some vulnerability. It’s quick and she easily recovers before saying to medical technician Danika Lund (Robin Tunney), that Karl James Larson was “the worst nightmare I’ve ever met.” Larson is her abuser and this is later confirmed in a one-on-one conversation between Vanzant and Evers.

This scene right here, y’all. In my opinion, it is a master class in how trauma may look like for Black people, specifically Black women and the tendency to hide that trauma. The scene is tense. It feels full of anger. As Vanzant asks pointed questions, Evers reads as angry and evasive. 

Then Evers confesses:

“When he and I were finished, when it was over, I couldn’t have children. I joined Trans Soma to get away from him.”

That bit of dialogue recontextualized the entire scene for me. 

It makes clear, in case we missed the context clues, that this was a domestic abuse situation (in this instance more aptly called intimate partner violence). That the abuse was so severe that a.) Evers can no longer bear children and b.) she chose the vastness of space to get away from him. 

The perceived anger is a mask. Aside: the “angry Black woman” is an archetype with roots in the Sapphire archetype, made famous by Amos n’ Andy. However, that’s not what’s happening here. Evers isn’t trading one archetype for another. 

Evers’ pacing reads more like anxiety. She can’t sit still. And, notably, while she shares this deeply personal, painful history, she avoids eye contact with Vanzant. That reads as shame. Shame that isn’t really hers to carry. Even as she clings to the strong Black woman archetype with its overreliance on emotional restraint, her body language and her emotions leech out…if you know to look for them.

Experience has shown when it comes to these two archetypes, especially the strong Black women, it becomes a prison of sorts for Black women where they are regarded as overly capable and superhuman. Able to bear up against all that life and a white supremacist, misogynist (see misogynoir) society can throw at them. Many Black women can and do cling to this, as celebrated in Alicia Keys' single Superwoman, while crumbling under the weight of it. 

According to the Women’s Institute for Policy Research, four out of ten Black women will experience physical violence from an intimate partner in their lifetime. And, according to a 2015 Violence Policy Center study found that Black women are two and a half times more likely to be murdered by a man compared to their white counterparts.

I know these statistics were gathered well after Supernova’s 2000 premiere. They do speak to a reality that many Black women face, being regarded as strong while enduring unimaginable violence. And yes, I will be that person that says this propensity extends all the way back to enslavement, where Black women were expected to labor as hard as Black men regardless if they were ill, infirmed, or pregnant. They would even be whipped while pregnant. Black women were even lynched by white mobs while pregnant. That’s just physical violence. We haven’t even touched on the sexual violence. This historical context is likely why the white writers and directors may not have contextualized Evers as the victim (I prefer survivor) that she was. The archetype and the Black woman’s experience that informs it renders her a non-victim.

When viewed through this new lens of intimate partner violence, everything Karl Larson does is abuser 101. Larson masquerades as his own son, Troy. Even while doing this he shows himself to be a manipulator. He tries to reframe Karl’s past behavior and emphasizes how remorseful Karl was for his behavior toward Evers. Of course, Evers’ rebuffs and dismisses his attempts to bring up her past. Through a casual conversation with Danika, he deduces that Vanzant and Evers may have been intimate, seeing this new man as competition standing between him and Evers. His reasons for picking off the other crew members: Danika, Yerzy Penalosa (Lou Diamond Phillips), and Benjamin Sotomejor (Wilson Cruz) is because they represent obstacles to what he wants, which is to keep the alien creation device but most importantly Evers. Also, the fact the call was directly to the Nightingale strongly implies that he kept tabs on her. No amount of distance was going to keep him from her. 

The alien creation device is not a big plot point until halfway into the movie. Everything with Evers is a slow build.

In her final confrontation with Karl, all pretenses are dropped. The crew, as far as Evers knows, is gone. Picked off one by one by Karl. It’s a survivor’s worst nightmare. And yet, frustratingly the focus is on Karl and not necessarily Evers. Even then, Bassett manages to give us something when Evers, on reflex honed by abuse, shirks away from Karl when he makes a sudden move toward her. 

He says:

Karl/Troy: I promise. That’s all in the past.

Then less than 30 seconds later, he chokes her. Again the abuser playbook of “I promise I won’t hurt you. It’ll never happen again.” Then it happens again. 

I could go on and on about how this was such a missed opportunity. What this movie lacks is putting more focus on Evers, giving her space to emote and to process so we, as the audience, can better understand her. That would mean admitting the movie is about a Black woman and not an alien creation device.

Benjamin Sotomejor

I would be remiss if I did not mention Benjamin, played by Wilson Cruz. Although Cruz has African heritage, I was unable to find interviews or articles where he claims that as part of his cultural and racial heritage. In many instances, he frequently refers to himself as a “man of color” or “queer man of color.” I was unable to find evidence where he spoke or personally identified as Afro-Latino. 

Therefore, I did not include him in my Black character analysis. It’s important to me that the analysis include actors who not only have Black/African heritage but who also claim it and demonstrate a clear willingness to discuss it or engage with what that means to be an actor of Black/African heritage.

Note: I recognize that the Latin identity has a complicated racial history. I do not presume to understand as one who is not of Latin descent or origin.

So what does this movie say about Black people within American science fiction films?

We exist in the future. That is the low hanging fruit of it all. 

There is an inability to conceive of Black people, especially Black women, beyond the archetypes placed on them. Instead, the movie gets lost in its own navel-gazing at the science and technology part of the science fiction genre.

Supernova had a real opportunity to tell a uniquely human experience, that people either have had or know someone who has had, set against a space backdrop. Dr. Kaela Evers deserved better. She deserved to have a better story that gave her space to be fully human with wants and needs. However, in order to get that story, it would require those involved in its telling to move beyond their own inherent biases.

Interesting Tidbits

• Of the actors, Angela Bassett is the only one who does not get naked when the crew goes into the pods. According to Robin Tunney, originally she was supposed to and had agreed to it but then changed her mind.

• The “floating sex” scene between Dr. Kaela Evers and Nick Vanzant is extra footage from Robin Tunney and Peter Facinelli’s sex scene as Danika and Karl. Tunney’s skin was darkened aka digital blackface. The purpose of the scene was to add “more” to Kaela and Nick’s relationship. 

Thank you for reading. I will continue to produce other film essays and nonfiction book reviews. This series will be in addition to that work. Its category will be “Scifi Black.” As always I pride myself on quality vs. quantity so if you’re looking for regular content, produced on a timetable, you’ll be disappointed. Let’s bring back slower consumption of content to give ourselves time to think about what we watch. My thoughts and views are shaped by extensive reading. Check out my Bookshop Storefront for my ongoing list of books I highly recommend.

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]]>Scifi Black: Supernova (2000)Book ReviewLee StevensWed, 14 May 2025 15:30:00 +0000https://www.leestevensbooks.com/blog/sky-full-of-elephants6257207b081039630fe08798:63fe2fba6a39ba38f9551e62:6817b23e73f7724f4813627aNote: This book review contains (some) spoilers. Content warning: contains references to suicide (one page) and sexual assault (off-page).

Dear readers, I want to take a momentary break from my usual content of film reviews and, once in a blue moon, nonfiction reviews to discuss the fiction book Sky Full of Elephants by Cebo Campbell.

This book was recommended to me by a good friend, someone I have known for years. The recommendation came to me via text on February 17 with a link to the book. The text read: You’re the first person I knew who would appreciate it. 

I know that many of you don't know me personally, but something you should know about me is that I have very particular taste. I cannot pretend to like something to save my life. My taste is particular and eclectic. In fact, it takes people in my life several years to understand my taste and even longer to make recommendations that hit the mark.

Now the reason why I've decided to talk about this book on this site is because it elicited a very similar response to when I read nonfiction history books or feminist/womanist literature.  It is a book that made me think. It is a book that I had to take my time to digest the words and themes on the page. It is a slow, thoughtful, and introspective read.  Oftentimes, I only read a single chapter and then spent the rest of the day letting it sink in. Let it burrow into my consciousness. 

That being said, fiction, and any form of art, is subjective. Take my read and interpretation of the text as just that…mine.  I strongly encourage you to read it for yourself to see what conclusions you reach. 

Let’s Dive In

Sky Full of Elephants centers around this premise of what happens if, one day all of the white people, at least in the United States, unalive themselves in the nearest body of water. This singular event transforms the United States and the remaining people in it with their absence. To be very clear and very blunt, this is a Black story. Unless stated otherwise, 99% of the characters you will encounter on the page are Black or have African heritage. 

This experience is contextualized via two perspectives. 

The first one is Charles “Charlie” Brunson, a formerly incarcerated Black man turned college professor. At the time of “the event,” he had spent 20 years in prison.  Then one day, his life changed and now he's teaching, getting to live a life that he was more than likely on track to living prior to his incarceration. 

The second protagonist is his estranged biracial daughter, Sidney, who witnessed the death of her entire white family. I’m talking stepdad, mom, and twin brothers. Propelled by the need for connection and a “return to normalcy,” she embarks on a quest to travel south, which leads her to reach out to the one family member she does not know…or care to know: her estranged father. 

His absence and the circumstances around it are unknown to Sidney. Here Campbell hints at it before just telling us, as the reader, what happened via Charlie’s remembrance and alluded to in Elizabeth’s letter. 

Yet, that isn’t the heart of the story. This would be a completely different story played up with tension and dramatic effect about the big “reveal” but Campbell goes a different route, even if he, initially, teases it to the reader.

The story is their individual exploration of Black identity and the impact on their respective minds and sense of self after having lived in a white supremacist society and now thrust into a new, different world. For Charlie, what is it to know himself, as a Black man, without being under the scrutinizing and oftentimes hostile gaze of white supremacy? For Sidney, what is it to be biracial and out of touch with her Blackness? To have her Black identity undermined and minimized by the very people who claimed to love her in favor of her whiteness. And yet, feeling an unexpected kinship with the Black people she meets on this journey. 

Campbell pulls from the various intellectual frameworks I’ve been learning about, mulling over, and applying to my life. It requires understanding American history and the Black experience within it while critiquing it through the work of such scholars as bell hooks, Angela Davis, and even contemporary scholars such as Daina Ramey Berry and Stephanie Jones-Rogers. 

Subversion at Play

What makes this book refreshing and different is that Campbell makes choices that subverts expectations of where you think the story is going to go. He plays specifically into that by first luring you in. The Deep South aka the Southern states that originally made up the Confederacy (see American Civil War) takes on this mysterious, ominous reputation. It is a black hole of activity where planes do not fly. However, that proves not to be the case. I realized then that I expected violence, which I could argue is part of my conditioning as a citizen living in a white supremacist society. WS is violent. It is colonizing. It is a destructive force. 

Yet within the world of this book, it no longer dominates. Now, to be clear, the vestiges of it still exist and are upheld under the guise of “returning to normalcy.” 

What Campbell is getting at is the possibility. What could life be like in the United States outside of this Eurocentric, white supremacist framework of being? To this end, he presents an alternative, one largely shaped by the African continent. 

As a child of the African diaspora, it’s a compelling question to ponder.

One Key (Unexplored) Critique 

One critique that I have of the book is I would’ve liked Campbell to dig deeper into Charlie. There is a lie that Charlie believes that he does not acknowledge although his actions attest to it. Simply put, I do not believe Charlie wants to face the reality that Elizabeth did not love him, not really. 

Follow me. Elizabeth, Sidney’s mother, is the reason Charlie was in jail. She told a lie that he sexually assaulted her in order to protect her brother, Thomas, who shot him in “retaliation.” Charlie was the victim, on many levels, of violence that stemmed from white supremacy. Elizabeth chose whiteness, chose the familiarity and safety of it as a white woman. And in her letter she sent to Charlie, which Sidney later reads, her mother deeply regrets it…but that’s where her empathy ended. 

As Sidney questioned, if Elizabeth regretted it, why didn’t she do anything about it? Recant her statement and help get him out of prison. For 20 years, Elizabeth lived with the knowledge that an innocent man went to prison because of a lie she told. And she simply went on with her life, raising their daughter and withholding that information from said daughter. She avoided any measure of accountability and, in turn, robbed Sidney and Charlie of a relationship. Robbed Sidney of an opportunity to better know herself. 

So why the belief in the lie? Because then Charlie would have to reckon with why he fell in love with her. How could he claim to still love her, in spite of what she did? Charlie almost seems to be holding on to this belief in Elizabeth’s inherent goodness contrary to reality. That, I conjecture, is still the lingering hold of white supremacy ideology within Charlie’s heart that he refuses to acknowledge. Instead, he avoids and evades it. He carries it like a shame, a stain on self when it isn’t his to hold. 

Concurrent with my reading of this book was an online discussion on Threads that I lurked on. In this conversation, one of my favorite people, who goes by the moniker Feminista Jones, who is also an activist, community organizer, and professor, partook in it. She reshared a comment in which a Black woman stated “we need to talk about the fetishization of biracial children,” to be specific the strong desire of (some) white women to have biracial children with Black men, wherein children are treated as objects of desire with little regard for the care of their identity and sense of self. Over the long weekend, that reshare saw dozens of comments from biracial people wanting to discuss it, white women who witnessed this among their ranks, and Black people sharing their engagement with all three: biracial children, white women, and Black men who partake in this fetishization.

It was eye-opening. I learned things that I wish I didn’t know, like a certain type of tattoo (some) white women get to signal that they’re open to “being bred by Black men” (I shudder just writing that, y’all),  which is more grounded in revenge against a white supremacist AND patriarchal society than grounded in love. It centers them and not the children resulting from such a union. Much of the conversation focused on biracial children and the white moms. In the online discussion, there was little analytical energy directed toward the Black men who knowingly (or unknowingly) entered into these unions and how they dealt with eventually realizing that was all it was. It was not love but revenge. They were being fetishized too. 

From what I’ve gleaned in my 15+ years on social media, (some) Black men internalize it as a twisted compliment that they are desired and actively pursued even if for the wrong reasons. One is not an individual inherently worthy of love but an object to be obtained and conquered. For some, it was their own form of revenge against a white supremacist society that tells them they can’t look at or have access to white women.

bell hooks discusses this to some extent in her book, Ain’t I a Woman. There is a tabooness in a Black man/white woman pairing that can draw them together, despite the documented historical harm that (some) white women’s lies have caused. “White women tears” is very much a thing and has led to lynchings and white mob attacks on Black individuals, families, and even whole Black towns.

Here Campbell leaves that stone unsatisfactorily unturned. And as the youths say, he demonstrated he “had the range” to do it. I cannot speculate on his reasons but I wish it would’ve gone there.

Conclusion

I don’t want to give too much away as there should be some room left for YOU to be surprised, dear reader. 

Overall, I would say read the book. However, go into it knowing that there will be times when you’re uncomfortable. Get comfortable with your uncomfortability. 

Theresa, played by Kiki Layne, is a Black singer-songwriter living in Cincinnati, Ohio. She goes by the stage name of Dandelion, which is the namesake of the movie.   She spends her nights performing three days a week at a hotel bar to lackluster hotel guests and her days taking care of her sick mother, Jean, played by Melanie Nicholls-King, 

Her life is one of frustration and drudgery that her art isn't being appreciated, that her songs aren't being listened to. She spends her days looking on social media and seeing and comparing the trajectory of others in their career to her own. This is exacerbated by the later revelation that she had an opportunity to tour but put it aside to take care of her ailing mother. Now, she watches from the sidelines as others do well. 

She stands at a crossroads. One familiar to any creative: Continue to pursue your dreams or put them aside in favor of making a viable living. This is exemplified in the confrontation between Theresa and her mother Jean.

Although Dandelion’s Blackness isn’t explicitly called out, aside from some problematic audience moments, that is the unspoken linchpin she faces. The argument with her mother is emblematic of the particular struggles of Black creatives, or dare I say any person from a marginalized community. Success in the arts is a luxury, sometimes an impossibility. And if it comes it can be painfully slow in coming. What Dandelion is confronted with on social media are musicians and influencers, who are doing exceedingly well in terms of money and follower counts. It doesn’t escape notice, again not being directly stated, that the vast majority are white.

Following the argument with her mother, Dandelion leaves and, on a whim, heads to South Dakota, where there is a big motorcycle rally but also a singer-songwriter contest, which could lead to being signed.

The Allure of “The Bubble”

It’s in South Dakota and over the course of a few days, Dandelion enters what I call “the bubble,” a place where she is allowed to be, create, and the mundanity of life and its expectations are put on pause. Here she meets other talented musicians and songwriters, including Casey, played by Thomas Doherty, a Scottish musician reconnecting with and playing with his old band.

In meeting Casey, that crossroads argument is brought up again to Dandelion, specifically in a fireside scabble between Casey and his old bandmate Brady, played by Brady Stablein (an actual musician and front man in Brother Esley). There’s a tension between the two that predates this moment but comes to the fore. Brady believes in the music, creating the art, and actively pursuing it. Casey, on the other hand, believes in the value and importance of making a living. Being able to afford a roof over your head and food on the table. If that means trading on the art, so be it.

Over the course of the movie, it’s pretty clear in subtle ways that it is not just Dandelion in the bubble, it’s Casey as well. From the beginning, he makes known that he is married but the circumstances around it are left vague. And true of existing in “the bubble,” these questions and their answers go unspoken and not directly addressed. It would burst the bubble and neither wants that. 

In the bubble, Casey and Dandelion create music, they roam and explore, they perform duets, they slowly fall in love and even make love. They are both at their most creative in this context. Casey even facilitates an opportunity for Dandelion where she can record one of her songs and get it pressed into an actual record. But the real world is always nipping at their heels from missed calls, insistent calls, and the tense looks from Brady at what he sees developing between Casey and Dandelion. And even him reminding Dandelion, or more like a gentle warning, that Casey is married. That means something. That he has a life and responsibilities outside of this bubble. It reminds her that she has a life outside of this bubble.

That is the enticing beauty and harm of the bubble. To exist within its gravitational pull. While it frees Dandelion in one regard, it makes her exceedingly vulnerable in other ways.

Unsurprisingly and predictably, the cause of the bubble bursting is the appearance of Casey’s wife. I say predictably because the minute he confessed to having a wife, I knew it was only a matter of time before she appeared or made her presence known in a very real way. This is the low-hanging fruit that US-based movies love to pull from.

With the off-screen arrival of Casey’s wife and his subsequent MIA behavior, especially when Dandelion needs him, his bubble has burst. He is dropped back into reality. 

What’s painful is watching Dandelion go through the process of realizing it too. For context, Dandelion and Casey were set to perform one of their songs as an opening act to Brady’s band but Casey goes MIA. This would be a big moment for her emerging career. Similar to the fireside scene, there is a tension in the air as the band does sound check. Dandelion is slowly panicking. Brady is extremely hesitant and looks are exchanged between him and Jack, played by Jack Stablein, another bandmate.

We as the audience know before she knows that they know where Casey is. They know the full score but for whatever reason have kept their mouths shut not wanting to meddle…until Brady can’t take it anymore and tells her where to find Casey.

The one-two punch of Dandelion’s bubble bursting is not just the arrival of Casey’s wife but finding out he’s also a dad to a little girl. Additionally, she overhears how he fumbles trying to explain who she is to his wife.

And, to add further salt to the wound, this is now the second time where she missed out on an opportunity that would have (positively) impacted her career. She doesn’t open for Brother Esley. Instead, she cries, grieves, and goes back home.

In our last and final scene with Casey, he is quietly sobbing in his hotel room while his wife and daughter are preparing to leave. He doesn’t want them to hear. Then he wipes away the tears and leaves his guitar on the bed. It reiterates that scabble from before and the crossroads that Dandelion sits on. To him, creating music or having a more conventional life is an either/or. He cannot have both. In leaving his guitar behind, he is effectively closing this chapter, this part of himself, that he is really good at, that nourishes him.

Dandelion returns home, back to her mother, feeling defeated. She spirals a little bit and ruins her one paying gig, the hotel gig from earlier. However, it’s in an honest conversation with her mother that she gets the comfort and affirmation that she needs as a singer-songwriter, as a creative, as a Black creative. Her art brings her joy. Her joy is defiant, especially in a world that holds her back, makes things harder, or limits what she can do.

The movie fast-forwards an indeterminate amount of time. Dandelion has doubled-down on her artistry. She is a more confident singer-songwriter, who is going out on tour. She performs a powerful set to an audience in a classy lounge who are listening to her. Hearing her art.

On a Personal Note

As a creative and a Black creative at that, I don’t necessarily agree with the premise of this movie that it’s an either/or. That success is only possible if putting one’s efforts 100% behind one or the other. I see it as “and.” To see it that way, means to redefine what success looks like on an individual-level. My definition of success is not necessarily the same as someone else’s. I work full-time and I create part-time. 

My art nourishes me when life’s drudgery can be a lot. Conversely, because I’m not demanding my art to support me because I have a job for that, I have much more freedom to take risks with it. If it doesn’t sell or get as much exposure as I like, oh well. My ability to feed myself isn’t compromised by taking that risk. 

Is it a perfect system? No. 

Should artists be able to make a living and build a life doing art? I believe so. 

Are we there yet? No, but I hope we get there some day.  

Until that day, this is the way I do it.

This essay contains spoilers. Content warning: nudity, body horror, gore

Synopsis

In 2047, a team is sent to investigate a radio transmission sent from the last known location of the ship, Event Horizon, which went missing seven years ago.

Contextual Information 

Produced by Paramount Pictures, this movie was fast-tracked in terms of production in order for it to be released before Titanic (yes, that movie). Pretty much filming and editing were rushed.

Directed by Paul Anderson, Event Horizon was his first foray into science fiction. He was two years off the success of Mortal Kombat (1995), a martial arts fantasy film based on a video game. With his pick of any projects, including the sequel to Mortal Kombat, Anderson opted to do Event Horizon as his next project. Later, this British director would be known for his Resident Evil films. Anderson did a complete rewrite of the script to make it more of a haunted house horror movie, while exploring the concept of Hell. The original script was very reminiscent of Alien (1979).

As the top-billed actor, Laurence Fishburne was coming off of two commercial hits: Boyz in the Hood (1990) and What’s Love Got To Do with It (1993). By 1992, he earned a Tony Award and an Emmy Award. It was What’s Love Got to Do With It that earned him his first Oscar nomination. Second on the call sheet was Sam Neill, a New Zealand actor, widely known to American audiences for his role as Dr. Grant in Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park (1993).

Released on August 15, 1997, Event Horizon was considered a box office failure, only grossing $26 million against a $60 million dollar budget. Over time, however, it gained a cult following.

Movie Critique

Knowing that production was rushed and the script was rewritten by Anderson makes it easier to spot the unevenness of Event Horizon. This is most acutely demonstrated in the shifting POVs that the movie can’t quite settle on. Despite being the second billed actor, Sam Neill, who plays Dr. William “Billy” Weir, appears to be the protagonist. The focus is on him, these mysterious dreams of his dead wife, and, most importantly, the fact he’s the reason the Event Horizon is out there AND why the crew of the Lewis & Clark are tasked to investigate. Oh, and there is this brewing tension between him and Captain S.J. Miller, played by Laurence Fishburne. Knowing that the original script was reminiscent of Alien, Weir does give off similar untrustworthy vibes as Alien’s Ash, played by Ian Holm.

However, once things start to go awry on the Event Horizon, the focus shifts to the ensemble actors in order to play into the more traditional horror aspects complete with jump scares, gore, and unexplained hallucinations. Then the movie shifts again as it remembers where it left off with Weir, who is on a negative character change arc (i.e. where the “hero” becomes the villain), and the tension with Miller. 

As a result, it does disservice to Weir and Miller given the climactic moment is the big confrontation between the two of them. It’s horror meets this weird cat-and-mouse game which would've been far more compelling if the movie chose one.

Black Character Analysis

Event Horizon gives not one but two Black characters to assess: Captain S.J. Miller, played by Laurence Fishburne, and T.F. Cooper, played by Richard T. Jones.

Captain S.J. Miller

Miller is the captain of the Lewis & Clark, the ship sent out to locate the Event Horizon. Despite being the top-billed actor, Fishburne doesn’t appear on screen until six, almost seven minutes in. It’s an interesting directorial choice to move from a wide shot of the ship’s deck to a tight shot of Fishburne as his captain’s chair slowly turns to reveal his face. Although played up with dramatic intent, the reveal feels more ominous as if he is a character we, as the audience, should watch out for. This feeling is played up further in that it seems to flirt with him as a potential antagonist to Weir. Miller is brusque with the man, who seems to be appreciative of the captain’s assistance on the mission. As the crew prepares for stasis, Miller can be seen in the background watching Weir. There is an air of distrust.  

But all of this is a misdirect because, over the span of the movie, it becomes clear that Weir is the character to be watched and distrusted. As things worsen on the Event Horizon, Weir is less helpful, more dismissive, and with his own secret, harmful agenda. Miller is actually the hero. The leading man. Yet the bungled POV often sidelines him rather than play up for maximum emotional impact. He is a man whose crew is dying in horrific ways and the possibility of getting home is threatened.

In Donald Bogle’s book, in the 1990s, Fishburne is a part of this growing cadre of Black men who fit this masculine male lead. He writes:

During this era, some critics believed the traditional adult manly kind of screen hero – represented in the past by a Clark Gable, Spencer Tracy or John Wayne – was passé. Yet surprisingly, Black actors such as Denzel Washington, Samuel L. Jackson, Morgan Freeman and Laurence Fishburne were closer to the traditional masculine stance of past movies.

That is exactly what Fishburne serves in Event Horizon. He is the serious, stoic, level-headed captain who is thinking about his crew and their safety. He even has one particularly heroic moment trying to save one crew member from being ejected out the airlock. In this scene, the tension is high, his crew is panicking, but he is steadily advancing toward them in complete control and calmly talking them through what to do. 

As the hallucinations take hold, he is haunted by his past, specifically the burden of leadership when he had to make a decision to save everyone or sacrifice one life. He chose the former but it haunts him. Being the “traditional masculine” hero, he confides this bit of trauma to another male character who has also endured trauma. I did notice how this burden of leadership choice is presented to Miller not once but twice: he chooses to save his second in command and his ultimate sacrifice to save his remaining crew.

The movie makes very subtle nods to Miller’s Blackness. It’s in the informal dapping up of T.F. Cooper, the only other Black character, and in the pan-African symbolism of the green, yellow, and red medallion necklace that Miller wears. This signals to the audience, especially Black audience, that Miller is Black even if it isn’t explicitly called out. Because in this future, why should race come into it? And, as a side note: It did not escape my notice of the flattened racial dynamics of the crew. As a representation of the future and what humanity could be, unsurprisingly, the crew is composed of Black and white characters. Not Asian, Indigenous, etc.

I would be remiss if I did not point out that it was an interesting choice to have Miller’s second in command be a woman, specifically a white woman. Lieutenant M.L. Starck is played by British actor Joely Richardson. By going that route, the movie is trying to paint a more progressive view of the future, where a woman can be second in command on a space crew. (And a Black man could be in command on a top secret mission) 

For my non-US readers, there is a deep, racial history and tension between Black men and white women, specifically the white patriarchal fear that white women must be protected from “lascivious and dangerous Black men who may seek to harm them and take their virtue.” Insert eye-roll. However, this had had very real, historic consequences often including the lynching of Black men for a perceived slight to a white woman, thereby giving white men the license to murder. 

Also, in her thought-provoking work, Aint I A Woman, feminist scholar bell hooks notes that, historically, Black men and white women are often vying for the power held by white men. So,it is an interesting choice that these two groups are represented this way as revolutionary when one could argue (I do) that they are merely stand-ins for white men in an era of American history (1980s and 1990s) that saw greater emphasis on cultural plurality, with a widening of diverse representation in pop culture.

To Bogle’s point, I would add that we cannot talk about “traditional masculine” roles without discussing the implied paternalistic attitude embedded within it. There are two instances in which Miller protects or saves Starck that suggests she is incapable of doing it herself and thus needs male support. One is T.F. Cooper’s not-so-subtle sexual innuendo toward Starck that is laced with racialized language. Before Starck has an opportunity to speak, Miller interjects like a father protecting his daughter, thereby reinforcing the idea of him as a stand-in for white men. The second is in Miller’s redemptive moment, where Starck’s inability to save herself from being blown out into space. This isn’t as strong as an example but the emphasis on Starck’s helplessness in that moment stood out to me. 

Then lastly, Miller’s quickness to dismiss Starck’s explanation of what is causing the horrific things on the ship, especially since it's shown that her assessment was correct. His dismissal is out of character because, up to that point, there is a trust between Starck and Miller. What reason could there be for it? It’s a story choice in order to continue the crew bumbling around, being killed, before the big reveal. It’s a story choice that also has a gendered lens to it. Oh, and at the end, Starck gets some of the “hysterical white woman” treatment. She’s surrounded by men who are looking at her like “calm down, crazy” considering it's really post-traumatic stress disorder from TRAUMA.

Essentially, Miller does not fit into a specific Black archetype. In many ways, his character transcends that. However, he does fall into a more “traditional masculine leading man” archetype of American films albeit with its own hiccups and implied whiteness. 

Rescue Technician T.F. Cooper

T.F. Cooper is played by Richard T. Jones. In the 1990s, Jones played primarily supporting roles in a mix of TV and film. He notably starred as Laurence Fishburne’s son in What’s Love Got To Do With It, which may explain the chemistry and camaraderie the two show early in Event Horizon. Also, to be frank, they are the only two Black actors in this movie.

Cooper, as a crew member of the Lewis & Clark, falls into an amalgamation of Black character archetypes but with an interesting twist. The first and the most obvious, I think, is the coon archetype. This archetype is often depicted as lazy, with exaggerated responses to events, often the butt of jokes. Admittedly, there are many variations on this take. 

He is there for comedic relief, at times, but the jokes don’t land. Admittedly, humor is subjective. However, within the context of this movie, the script tried so hard to use Cooper as a vehicle to “lighten” the tension-filled moments of a scifi horror movie that it created these weird tonal shifts. In one scene, Cooper surprisingly (dare I say, a bit of plot armor) survives the ship being blown up and propelled out into space, clinging to the remnants of the blown apart Lewis & Clark. As he spins, he laments his circumstances but it comes off as “hammy” not a serious depiction of fear and concern. Think: Sandra Bullock’s panic spin out in the movie Gravity. As a bit of a space nerd, my thought as I watched was “am I supposed to suspend my disbelief that he a.) managed to survive a major explosion, whereas his other crew member died and b.) didn’t burn up in the atmosphere?” 

The second Black character archetype is the buck. The buck archetype is the expression of white men’s fear of the overly sexual, brazen, and even violent Black man. Admittedly, this is the least obvious and very much fleeting aspect of Cooper’s portrayal. The moment occurs after the crew awakens from stasis. Cooper saunters toward Starck, both minimally clothed due to being in the stasis pods, and makes a sexual innuendo when offering her a cup of coffee along the lines of wanting something “hot and black inside you.” One cannot ignore the racial dynamics at play because the very comment references that. Cooper is a Black man talking about his sexual appendage, while alluding to sex, to a white woman. I won’t reiterate here but, like I mentioned in Miller’s section, there is an American historical dimension to this. It’s in this scene that Miller checks Cooper’s behavior toward Starck.

The archetypes aside, the twist is that Cooper is more than the forced comedic relief. On several occasions, the man shows that he can be brave, resourceful, quite smart, and talented. He is the one who jumps into the unknown to save a crew member in distress. He is the man who makes it possible for them to patch up the Lewis & Clark, working tirelessly in his space gear to fix the outer hull. He is the man that figures out how to stop his own freefall out into space and use his spacesuit to push himself back into the atmosphere. And, to be frank, it’s a waste to play up the humor in the face of a man, who manages for the most part to keep his wits about him (outside of the poor jokes) as events spiral.

He is a Black character who is forced into an archetype but it's glaringly obvious, if one is willing to see, that his character is so much more than that but the movie failed to capitalize on it.

So what does this movie say about Black people within American science fiction films?

We exist in the future, in particular Black men do. They can be captains on a spaceship, lead a top secret mission, be respected and highly regarded by the crew. Black men can be incredibly good at their job. Yet, they still adhere to some semblance of the established Black archetypes or, more broadly a masculine archetype, even if they butt up against it.

Thank you for reading! I’ve curated a reading list of some of my favorite reads that helped shape and inform my views over the years. I will continue to add to this list as time goes on. If you purchase directly from Bookshop via my store, I do get a little bit of money from it. One particularly transformative work, Ain’t I A Woman by bell hooks, is not on the list. Unfortunately, Bookshop only has the CDs of it and its quite expensive. I highly recommend reading it. It changed my feelings about…well, everything.

If you enjoyed reading this essay, consider showing your support by buying me a cup of coffee.

Science fiction is the genre of my heart ever since I first saw Lieutenant Uhura, played by Nichelle Nichols, on the bridge of the USS Enterprise that fateful Labor Day weekend when I was young. By then, I already had a deep love of astronomy. Seeing Nichelle Nichols, someone who looked like she could be a member of my family, maximized that love by 1,000%. No longer was I a child looking up to the night sky and learning about the celestial bodies. I could envision myself up there among them.

Fast forwarding by several decades of growing up and movie-watching, the idea for this series was seeded by the 2018 controversy surrounding artist Alisha B. Wormsley. Her art, as part of a community billboard showcase, enraged the local community. 

The art? A billboard with a black background and white letters that read: There Are Black People In the Future.

She stated, to me, what was a simple fact, a very real reality. And yet, people were upset about it. And yet her art had to be pulled. And yet, the long running billboard project came to an abrupt end. 

And yet…

And yet…

But then I, as a trained public historian, know that the Black body and the Black experience is heavily politicized and deemed controversial in this country (for my non-US people who may not know). Black people’s continued existence and presence is a reminder of the horrors of America’s slaveholding, colonizing, white supremacist past (and present let’s be real). This history is so deeply intertwined and interwoven into the fabric of this country that it can’t be ignored, even if folks try. Its roots are deep and still thriving as it continues to evolve with the pace of society’s growth. 

Fortunately, her billboard was reinstated after a wave of public support.

The idea married with my love of science fiction as I kicked around the idea of Black people in science fiction which often reflects societal expectations about the future.

The Nuts and Bolts

I’m building upon the framework created by film historian Donald Bogle, and his seminal work, Toms, Coons, Mulatoes, Mammies, and Bucks: An Interpretive History of Blacks in American Films (highly recommend!), but with a deeper dive into a specific genre. Do Black people still show up as these archetypes (toms, coons, mammies, etc), in some form or another? Or, do these archetypes go through another evolution and if so, what does that look like? Or, are they discarded in favor of new ones? 

What do science fiction films say about Black people and the Black experience through their character choices, character arcs, plots and subplots given to these characters?

I would be remiss if I did not point out that science fiction, as a genre, is wide, diverse, and deep. It will not be entirely possible to point to a single definition that encompasses all the movies I will watch. Additionally, as preliminary research has shown, Black characters, especially those with speaking parts, do not readily appear in American science fiction films compared to their white counterparts, something that Wormsley’s art was getting at. Because of that, it has required me to be more expansive in my definition, with some caveats.  

What are those caveats?

1. This is an examination of film, not television. To that end, I will be excluding from this series the Star Trek universe. The Star Trek movies should not be separated from their television counterparts as they build upon one another. And, let’s be real, volumes could be written on Star Trek given its long history in American pop culture.

2. Speaking of big franchises, I am excluding Star Wars from the series. Like Star Trek, it has a long history that would make it unwieldy for the purposes of this series. Yes, I recognize it’s a space opera but it’s set in a fictional galaxy and contains fantastical elements. Therefore it is hard to critique its Black representation when it lies apart from our reality. Movies that edge toward fantasy will be excluded (sorry!).

3. I will prioritize Black characters who are either leads or supporting/secondary characters, specifically they have to have a speaking part, more than 5 minutes of screen time, and in multiple scenes.  They can’t be window-dressing for diversity points.

The forthcoming film essays will have, roughly, the same structure: a spoiler + content warning, a brief synopsis, cultural/historical/relevant contextual information, and critique of the movie and the Black character(s) in it. NOTE: This may be tweaked and adjusted as the series progresses. Oh, and these movies will not go in any particular order. The order will be shaped by what I can find online or even kick it old school and watch on DVD.

Disclaimer: I recognize that these characters may not have been originally written as Black or with the Black actor, who is ultimately cast, in mind. However, by casting a Black actor, it inherently changes how that character is perceived by audiences or the ways those in production may subconsciously react to and act with that character because of that historical and cultural context.

Above all, my goal isn’t to watch every single science fiction movie in which Black people are in. Rather to let this series be a starting point for discussion about Black representation in this genre. Who knows, at the inevitable endpoint of this project, I may compile the essays into a book with additional supporting information, greater contextualization, and cohesion. 

In doing so, I hope to see more stories that include Black people in science fiction films and, in particular, in the future  so that maybe, one day, it won’t be so outrageous to hear the phrase “There Are Black People In The Future.”

Thank you for reading. I will continue to produce film essays and nonfiction book reviews. This series will be in addition to that work. Its category/tag will be “Scifi Black.” As always I pride myself on quality vs. quantity so if you’re looking for regular content, produced on a timetable, you’ll be disappointed. Let’s bring back slower consumption of content to give ourselves time to think about what we watch.

The People We Hate at the Wedding (2024) has the hallmarks of a comedy. The trailer is funny and it stars Kirsten Bell, Ben Platt, and Allison Janney, actors who, I think, have great comedic chops. And yet, People We Hate is more than that. It follows this dysfunctional and somewhat estranged family as they begrudgingly and anxiously travel to England for the wedding of the eldest daughter and half-sibling, Eloise, played by Cynthia Addai-Robinson.

Initially, the movie’s handling and adept pivoting between Alice, Paul, Donna, and Eloise lends credence to the fact this will be an ensemble with Alice, played by Kirsten Bell, as our main protagonist. Each character has their thing, their baggage, that is directed toward a family member, their partner, or something external of these two. And I was looking forward to that exploration and the inevitable hijinks that would ensue.

However, once we break into the second act with all the characters now in England a few things become glaringly obvious.

From balanced to unbalanced ensemble

Alice has three subplots and one minor(ish) one which takes over the narrative. Let’s list them off.

First, let’s tackle the small “s” subplot. Alice is a very talented architect but working as a personal assistant. There’s the subtle implication that there may be imposter syndrome or failure or fear of failure here.

Second, she is a personal assistant and sleeping with her boss….a married man with a newborn child. The latter bits are thrown in almost like a throw away after firmly showing us how charming and funny the two of them are together. They seem like they could be a real couple and, in fact, the boss seems like he wants that but Alice is the hold out. No. That’s not what’s going on here.

Third, Alice is estranged from her older (Black biracial) sister Eloise because her sister failed to show up for her. A year ago, Alice suffered what seemed to be a pretty traumatic miscarriage (off screen) and her long-time boyfriend blamed her for it and broke up with her. That coupled with her sister being more successful and coming from wealth via her Black French father, Alice has a whole lotta big feelings about her older sister.

Fourth, Alice has a love interest who she meets on the plane to London. He’s the good guy and the character that points out the power imbalance and all around shittyness of Alice’s boss and how it says something that Alice still wants to be with a clearly unavailable man.

The multiple subplots for Alice throws off the narrative and undermines the ensemble feeling established in the first act. The one character that clearly gets short-changed narratively speaking is Eloise, who I’ll talk more about later. 

I would not be surprised if the original script centered on Alice as the lead with her brother, mom, and half-sister as true supporting characters. However, once actors became attached and expectations shifted, roles got expanded (or undercut), and subplots changed. That’s what this feels like as the movie progresses.

But I digress.

Based on how these subplots play out, I’m of the opinion that the love interest was not needed. The essential purpose of this character was to point out that Alice’s boss was shitty and she was wrong for being with him, knowing he was married and with a kid. This could have been shuffled to any of the ensemble characters with ease while maintaining that the heart of the movie is a family. That is also a bone of contention for me in that, once the narrative jumps to England, it’s forgotten they are family. Other than a handful of scenes, about two or three in total, the foursome spend much of the movie apart. A wedding (or a funeral) is an easy way to contrive a reason for them to be forced in proximity with each other but the movie doesn’t do that. Again, the misstep here hints at a script that underwent revisions from main protagonist to an ensemble.

The Problem with Eloise

No character is more impacted by the ensemble framework and its imbalance than Eloise. This is made even more glaringly obvious to me in the lack of depth and screen time while edging into problematic Black tropes.

Before I dive further, I highly recommend reading Donald Bogle’s book Toms, Coons, Mulattoes, Mammies, and Bucks: An Interpretive History of Blacks in American Films. As I watched the movie and its handling of Eloise, it was Bogle’s incisive observations that came to mind. Although two-thirds of the movie occurs in England, this is an American movie and therefore it is impacted by this long history of American films’ portrayal of Black people.

Eloise, as a character, falls into that more modern rendering of the tom-mammy-aunt jemima archetype. This archetype is generally happy and pleasing. They are supportive of their white counterparts and overly involved in their lives to the point that they lack a life or interiority of their own. Note: This is a very broad categorization and there are variations on this take. However, within the context of People We Hate at the Wedding that is what Eloise is. 

She always has a smile, even if strained at times, in spite of the mistreatment and insensitivity she experiences at the hands of her family. However, nowhere in the movie do we really see her reaction or feelings about the massive disruption they are causing to what is essentially her “big day.” For example, the boss’ wife crashes Eloise’s rehearsal dinner in order to confront Alice. The focus during that scene is on the boss and Alice with a few quick camera shots to Eloise and her baffled fiance. The scene goes on entirely too long and feels inappropriately played up for laughs. Afterward, we, as the audience, don’t even get to see Eloise be upset, consoled, or processing that experience. When her emotions are expressed to her family, it’s via a letter to them delivered by a police officer. The movie robs Eloise of that invaluable screen time to show her hurt and upset. To express in a visible, meaningful way her interiority.

Additionally, the vast majority of Eloise’s scenes are linked to her white family, while their scenes are independent of her. If they are not on screen or in close proximity, Eloise is not. She is rendered a non-factor despite being the reason they are all together. The mom has a subplot. The brother has a subplot, and Alice has too many. Meanwhile, Eloise disappears until one of these three other characters bumbles across the screen. 

One particularly egregious and not-well-thought out emotional moment was in Eloise and Alice finally having their moment. After spending the majority of the movie as a tertiary character, it’s as if the writers remember Eloise and the emotional seeds they planted, specifically, Eloise’s reaction to the mention of children. Finally in the last 10 minutes Eloise gets to show that she’s not okay and runs away the day of her wedding. Ultimately, the family finds her in a Taco Bell, eating her feelings. It’s here that Alice shares her hurt that her sister was not there for her when she suffered her miscarriage a year ago. Eloise gets to explain why she didn’t show up by dropping two big bombshells: she can’t have children and she hasn’t told her fiance, who wants kids. She found out the former the day she was set to fly out to console her sister.

EXCUSE ME?!!!!

To reiterate, after sidelining Eloise for much of the movie, the writers decide to drop that bombshell. To add further insult to injury, Eloise consoles Alice more than Alice consoles Eloise, which is often an expectation of the tom-mammy-aunt jemima archetype. It’s not about the Black character having a moment, it’s all about the white character. 

The resolution comes two minutes later with Eloise telling her fiance….something we don’t see or experience. Then cut to Eloise who is all smiles in her wedding dress as her family comes together before her walk down the aisle. All I kept thinking about is that conversation with the fiance, realistically, could’ve gone very badly. At best, it could’ve delayed the wedding a few days (or months). At worst, it could’ve ended things. But the writers aren’t at all interested in painting Eloise realistically or with any depth.

At every turn, the writers had an opportunity to delve more into Eloise but didn't take it. She ends the movie how she began it: more of an archetype than a real, flawed person. But hey, she got a happy ending.

Final Thoughts

People We Hate At The Weddings had so much potential. The first third completely subverted what I thought I was going to watch. Then in making the leap it quickly down-shifted into something that was a bit of a muddled mess with humorous bits but lacking any real heart, something that would’ve been an easy knock out of the park to make. The pieces were there. 

Rather than smiling wistfully as this dysfunctional family moved toward functional, I became increasingly frustrated by the turns taken and the misuse of Eloise, who falls into Black stereotypes with a 21st century polish so as not to be glaringly obvious. 

So much potential. So much wasted opportunity.

Alice, Darling (2022), starring Anna Kendrick and Charlie Carrick, is not a thriller, contrary to the movie’s trailer. It is the quiet exploration of a woman’s interiority while in the midst of an abusive relationship and her reclamation of self over the course of a vacation with her childhood friends, played by Wunmi Mosaku and Kaniehiito Horn.  It quietly unfolds over a slightly meandering pace which is very much my jam. 

Let’s Start at the Beginning, Scratch that Let’s Not

What Alice, Darling does brilliantly is throw us in the middle of Alice and Simon’s relationship, especially given that it’s an exploration of emotional and mental abuse…something that is far more subtle, nuanced, and builds over time. To document the beginnings of it would be harder to convey because it’s the slow chipping away of someone else’s self-confidence. It’s a critical statement here. A dismissive statement there that could be framed as “me helping you.” 

It’s far more effective in visual storytelling to show the effect of years of this. It’s watching Alice painfully rip out her hair when she’s alone. It’s her quick response to his texts the second they come even though it distracts from hanging out with her friends. It’s going to extraordinary lengths to destroy the paper with the waiter’s number that he slipped to her without her knowing. It’s coddling Simon’s feelings. It’s practicing her lie so she can see her friends. It’s anticipating Simon’s dismissive responses to her lie so he’ll be OK with her leaving him for a few days. It’s the subtle discomfort Alice feels when Simon initiates sex. All of these moments paint a picture of the relationship. And, they occur at such a dizzying pace in the beginning that I found myself being pulled into Alice’s anxiety spiral. Seriously, about 13 minutes in I had to pause and take a few deep breaths. I could feel the ball of anxiety in my chest.

That Title 

It is not lost on me that the very title is emblematic of Simon’s subtle emotional and mental abuse. In one key, tension-filled scene during the latter part of the movie, Simon utters those words as a sweet, endearing preface to a dismissive statement, a statement that swipes at Alice’s compassion for a stranger and cuts it down as if it’s ridiculous and absurd to show empathy for someone else. A weakness if you will.  Alice hesitantly and quietly agrees with him but something is brewing within her that wasn’t at the beginning of the film. She’s experienced a reconnection with self and her reconnection with her friends who truly love and know her.  Most importantly, she’s experienced the sweet relief of not having her world pivot around Simon.  

The Missing Girl

I will be frank in that it took me far longer than it should to deduce the relevance of the missing girl subplot. In one scene in particular, I spent it one part confused and horrified that Alice would traipse off into the woods by herself and walk into an abandoned house, driven by the possibility of finding this young girl. I came up with two possible reasons for this subplot. 

First, it showcases Alice’s compassionate nature separate from Simon or her friends, Sophie and Tess. Since the movie starts in the middle of Alice’s relationship with Simon and the slow straining of her friendships, we, as the audience, have no idea, really, of who Alice is. The fact she is on vacation, hears about the missing girl, and volunteers with the search party says something about her. There is a deep well of compassion and empathy in Alice.

Second, the missing girl is an external representation of the violence against women. Despite community efforts, including those of Alice and her friends, there is no happy ending. This young girl is found dead. It’s a pointed choice that that revelation is revealed by Simon, a man inflicting violence against his partner. Not only that, the way he presents this information is telling. It’s dismissive and cavalier set against this backdrop in which he crashes this girls-only vacation. As Alice reaches for the newspaper with the article, Simon snatches it away and tosses it on the floor. A clear statement that the girl does not matter to him. Alice’s feelings about the girl doesn’t matter. That young girl is, much like Alice, disposable to him because how can you hurt the one you love?

Go Off Sophie

Of the two friends, Sophie, played by Mosaku, tries the hardest to stay in contact and show up for Alice. At the start, she is often the intermediary and peacemaker between Tess and Alice, who’s friendship dynamic shows the most strain. Even though Simon is not a physical presence for much of this vacation, he is present in Alice’s mind. We, as the audience, are privy to her inner thoughts, interestingly in Simon’s voice. In doing this, we hear the words that Simon has told her, how he planted the seeds of alienation about her friends, how her own voice is drowned out by his. That’s how emotional and mental abuse works.

That being said, I love that in the final confrontation it's not Tess but Sophie who fights for Alice and who stands up to Simon. If it had come from Tess, it would’ve been easier to dismiss it. Tess does not like Simon and has made that clear nor does he like her. The fact it was the level-headed Sophie who initiates the confrontation wakes Alice up. She was going to leave with her abuser who does not love her because there can be no love when someone is trying to control the other. It’s looking in Sophie’s concerned eyes that gives Alice the strength to stay. To stay for her friends. To stay for herself. It’s worth noting that Alice is so attuned to Simon’s manipulation that she can’t look at him. She focuses on Sophie because if she looks at Simon, she’ll be tempted to go back. That Simom would unleash whatever tactic that would tug at her inherent compassion.

It’s Sophie that delivers the impassioned NO, that makes Simon drop the mask to show the terrible person he is. 

Final Thoughts

Alice, Darling is not a thriller rather a quiet examination of the effects of being in an abusive relationship. It makes me think of the adage, “there is life and death in the tongue.” What we say (or don’t) to others has the power to uplift or destroy.

I mean it, in 2024, I produced 7 blog posts. That’s it. Yet my numbers have tripled. Special shoutout to those who are constantly discovering my The Pod Generation and Silent essays. 

Looking Back on 2024

2024 saw me shift focus to writing film essays and nonfiction reviews on the content I thoroughly enjoy or, at least, find intriguing. I plan to continue bringing you such content. A gentle note, what I post are film essays not reviews.  

My essays are essentially my attempt to work out what I found compelling or interesting about a movie that I can’t quite figure out. As a result, you get to be the lovely recipient, dear reader, of essays that easily top 1,000+ words. 

2024 also saw me pull away from the majority of social media platforms. I’m no longer on Instagram or Threads. My website is officially THEE place for content and goings on about me, my writing, or whatever flights of fancy I’ve decided to pursue.

That being said, I am on Letterboxd as @leestevensbooks. Here is where I keep a running list of movies I’d like to watch and the ones I’ve seen. On this site is where you can find your typical movie reviews from me. They can range from one word to 100 words responses to what I watch. Remember the art of storytelling is subjective and there is room for us to have a difference of opinion.

My 2024 Movie List

Without further ado, here are the 51 movies I watched this year with their rating. To see the actual review attached to it, I’m afraid you’ll have to join Letterboxd (sorry, not sorry).

Rating based on 5 stars.

Note: 3 stars are the equivalent of me saying “it’s a solid move. I neither hated it nor absolutely loved it. It was middle of the road. It did the bare minimum of what it was supposed to do: entertain me.”

1. Rye Land (2023) - 4 stars

2. Good Grief (2023) - 3 ½ stars

3. Maggie Moore(s) (2023) - 3 ½ stars

4. Love and Leashes  (2022) - 3 stars

5. The Pod Generation (2023)  - 3 ½ stars

6. Damsel (2024) - 2 ½ stars 

7. Nimona (2023) - 3 stars

8. The Creator (2023) - 3 stars

9. Road House (1989) - 3 stars

10. Strange Way of Life (2023) - 3 stars

11. Failure to Launch (2006) - 3 stars

12. Winter’s Tale (2014) - 2 ½ stars

13. American Fiction (2023) - 2 stars

14. Anyone But You (2023) - 1 star

15. Purple Hearts (2022) - 4 stars

16. Dune: Part Two (2024) - 4 ½ stars

17. Hit Man (2023) - 4 stars

18. She Came to Me (2023) - 3 ½ stars

19. Biosphere (2022) - 3 stars

20. Love at First Sight (2023) - 3 stars

21. Summer Camp (2024) - 2 ½ stars

22. Butterfly in the Sky (2022) - 5 stars

23. A Quiet Place: Day One (2024) - 5 stars

24. Babes (2024) - 3 stars

25. The Fall Guy (2024) - 3 ½ stars

26. Thelma (2024) - 4 ½ stars

27. The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat (2024) - 3 ½ stars

28. The Nice Guys (2016) - 3 stars

29. Knives Out (2019) - 3 ½ stars

30. Monkey Man (2024) - 3 ½ stars

31. The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare (2024) - 3 ½ stars

32. American Dreamer (2022) - 2 ½ stars

33. Past Lives (2023) - 4 stars

34. The Fabulous Four (2024) - 2 stars

35. John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023) - 2 ½ stars

36. Am I Ok? (2022) - 3 stars

37. We Live in Time (2024) - 3 stars

38. Borderlands (2024) - 2 stars

39. The Crow (2024) - 3 ½ stars

40. The Associate (1996) - 2 ½ stars

41. She’s the Man (2006) - 3 stars

42. The Good Half (2023) - 3 stars

43. Sweethearts (2024) - 3 ½ stars

44. Catherine Called Birdy (2022) - 3 stars

45. A Sudden Case of Christmas (2024) - 2 ½ stars

46. The Sunlit Night (2019) - 3 ½ stars

47. Your Monster (2024) - 4 stars

48. Nightbitch (2024) - 3 stars

49. The Union (2024) - 2 stars

50. Bad Moms (2016) - 3 ½ stars

51. A Bad Moms Christmas (2017) - 3 stars

What’s Next?

More film watching. Possibly some film essays if anything strikes my fancy that I feel compelled to write about in depth.

What I’d like to do more of

I’m toying with the idea of doing a deep dive into science fiction movies. After all, it is the genre of my heart. I’d like to do something that’s a bit focused. I’m still working out what that looks like.

Second, watch more foreign films! I’m highly intrigued by how other countries and cultures tell stories. As a US-based writer/author coming up in the Western-based three act structure, it’s becoming a bit monotonous. I find that I can figure out where a story is going quite easily because I’ve spent an extensive amount of time researching Western storytelling. 

I miss being intrigued, surprised, and along for the ride.

A Special Note to my Blog Subscribers

Thank you for subscribing! I hope I won’t let you down. Remember, my focus is on delivering quality content versus quantity. If you’re expecting a steady stream of film essays and nonfiction reviews you will be sorely disappointed. However, what I do bring to you will be blog posts that I’ve spent a considerable amount of time thinking about, writing, and editing.

Hello 2025! Let’s get to watching!