Black Directors in Hollywood

CHAPTER EIGHT. And Still They Rise: Black Women Directors

C H A P T E R E I G H T And Still They Rise: Black Women Directors The dearth of women directors in Hollywood has been emblematic of the extensive sexism and patriarchy within the studio system. The celebrated white women directors of the 1930s and 1940s, specifically Dorothy Arzner and Ida Lupino, led the way for others—many of whom obtained work and prominence in the 1980s and 1990s, such as Amy Heckerling, Martha Coolidge, Nora Ephron, Penny Marshall, Kathryn Bigelow, and Jane Campion . According to critic Christine Spines’ aptly titled essay ‘‘Behind Bars,’’ ‘‘in 1997, women made up only 12.2 percent of the [Directors] guilds members .’’1 Of the many factors preventing women directors from gaining projects , Spine cites the preferred leadership role of male directors; the perception that an on-screen focus on women’s experiences equals box-office failure; and the reluctance to trust big budgets to women.2 Confronting both racial and gender biases, black women directors of feature films remain an anomaly, although the talent of black women directors surfaces at film festivals and within television projects. Significantly, black women have been more visible outside of the Hollywood studio system , primarily in independent films, documentaries, and videos. But due to the lack of popular appreciation of those forms, those women directors have reached a smaller audience and received less critical attention. In her informative article ‘‘Independents Day,’’ Tara Roberts observes that many black women directors sidestep the frustrating studio system and complete lowbudget projects because ‘‘they know that some people in the country yearn to see depth and beauty and range of Black women’s faces, bodies, and lives on the screen.’’3 Roberts’ collection of notable black women directors includes Jennifer Haskins-O’Reggio, Stacey Holman, Nandi Bowe, Shari L.Carpenter, Alison Swan, and Bridgett M. Davis, among others.4 Despite the formidable challenges posed by the Hollywood system, some black women directors got the opportunity to work in the ’90s. By that decade , a number of factors finally influenced the studios to grant a nod toward a select number. First of all, as noted, the history of the pioneering work by women directors, both black and nonblack, had cracked a few doors. Sec1 7 4 ondly, by the mid-’80s black male directors had demonstrated that black perspectives and experiences were fresh, acceptable content for mainstream film audiences. The box-office success of black male directors chipped away a bit more at the barriers excluding directors of color. A third factor was the increased publication of black women authors beginning in the mid-’70s and into the ’90s. The inextricable relationship between literary characters and film images has always been measurable in Hollywood, and the emerging political, cultural, and feminist/womanist dynamics prevailed in the writings of Maya Angelou, Toni Cade Bambara, Nikki Giovanni, Gayle Jones, Audre Lorde, Paule Marshall, Toni Morrison, Gloria Naylor, Ntozake Shange, and Alice Walker, to name some of the more successful. Over the years, some black women writers have had their works turned into feature films, most notably Lorraine Hansberry’s A Raisin in the Sun (1961), Kristin Hunter’s Landlord (1970), Alice Walker’s The Color Purple (1985), and Terry McMillan’s Waiting to Exhale (1995) and How Stella Got Her Groove Back (1998). A fourth factor was the increasing frequency of black women’s appearances in movies, television shows, and television commercials beginning in the 1970s, which collectively gave visibility to black women in American society. Quantity certainly did not equal quality, as far as the collective roles for black women: on the one hand, superheroes such as in Cleopatra Jones (1973) and Coffy (1973) or, on the other hand, hookers, drug addicts, and victims . But occasional images began to appear that suggested the complexity of black women’s experiences, providing a humanity to their visibility, as in the films Sounder (1972), Claudine (1974), The Color Purple, and She’s Gotta Have It, to cite a few. Finally, as mentioned earlier, black women independent filmmakers were seizing the camera as an extension of both their visions and voices. They gathered experience through film schools, on television shows, as movie interns and productions assistants, and on made-for-television movie projects. In the latter case, two black women directors in particular have distinguished themselves—Neema Barnette and Debbie Allen. Black women have prepared and are continuing to prepare themselves for feature film directing . They are well aware...