Classic Hollywood, Classic Whiteness (review)

Book Reviews | Regular Feature Book Reviews Daniel Bernardi, editor. Classic Hollywood, Classic Whiteness. University of Minnesota Press, 2001. 516 pages; $62.95. Predominant Factor When D.W. Griffith's monumental silent moving picture, The Birth of a Nation, premiered in 1915, how many viewers objected to the black greasepaint that Caucasian actors rubbed on their faces to impersonate the recently manumitted Africans who toiled on southern plantations? This photodrama may have been—as President Wilson reputedly pronounced—"history written in lighting," but for most Hollywood moguls this elaborate production merely echoed the institutional racism that permeated the industry. Why was this? How did the predominantly White-only system evolve? What were the consequences? The repercussions? These are some of the thorny issues that Professor Daniel Bernardi examines in a wonderful anthology, Classic Hollywood, Classic Whiteness. According to Dr. Bernardi, race became the chieffactor in all screenplays and, by extension, exhibitions during the period 1920 to 1960, an era known as the Classical Hollywood style. Embraced by studio heads, this approach, he explains, directed aesthetic choices, encouraged censorship (on their own terms), and played upon national and international events for storylines. In short, everything created by the motion picture industry contained public and private institutional policies that eventually— either directly or subliminally—expounded the popularization of American whiteness. Without question, a color line, as defined by Caucasian interests, formed the basis of every movie. To clarify these arguments, Dr. Bernardi draws upon nineteen representative essays in four categories: class, gender, war, and industry. In Part One, Class, the symbiotic relationship between race and economy falls under scrutiny. Here, two popular titles, A Night at the Opera and To Be OrNot To Be, seemed representative of Hollywood's need to tone down Jewish assimilation and, instead, reaffirmed aWhite culture controlling capitalistAmerica. Another essay takes a hard look at three Black-oriented sports films—The Joe Louis Story, The Harlem Globetrotters, and The Jackie Robinson Story—andthe mannerthese scripts side-stepped the reality of racial discrimination and, instead, highlighted the achievements of White, male athletes. On another matter, photodramas such as War ofthe Worlds and Them! offered subtle justification for the contemporary suburban issue ofWhite flight while Son of the Gods, a screenplay about mistaken Oriental identity, denounced all forms of miscegenation. Part Two contains six essays which study gender themes and variations. Motion pictures such as The Three Faces ofEve (Southern segregation), or The Paleface (frontier masculinity) upheld male dominance while King Kong (the monster unchecked ) extolled of the dangers of Black sexual prowess and The World ofSuzie Wong (the Yellow Peril) maintained British supremacy. Off-camera, the career of Mexican-born Dolores del Rio focused on Hollywood's both sides ofthe fence mentality . Here, this light-skinned beauty appealed to American sensibilities while her native temperament and vivacious demeanor charmed Latino audiences everywhere. As for War (the third part), similar methods applied. According to Dr. Bernardi, the trick Hollywood employed was simple enough: allow the non-Caucasian enough room to be seen as a patrioticAmerican while downplaying the fact that the privileges most Whites enjoyed were unattainable to everyone else. Drawing on sources that include numerous portrayals of Native Americans, the Civil War and its reconstruction, Caucasian actors as Japanese and Chinese nationals in World War II propagandapictures , plus the racial problems encountered by returning veterans, this section suggested that a postwar socioeconomic movement was slowly gaining momentum which, possibly, might disrupt the status quo. Finally, Part Four (Industry) pondered the studio system with its stern edicts that permitted racial dichotomy to flourish unchecked in the film community. But changes were on the way. During World War II—following President Roosevelt's call for a Good Neighbor policy—Hollywood toned down its negative Latin American characterizations of dumb, emotional comics replacing these roles with substantial individuals, capable of clear, rational thought and behavior. Closer to home, Black entertainers, whose faces and personas were well known in the African American urban communities, waited patiently for admittance into stardom even though such recognition was really a pipe dream: what difference did it make that such titles as Imitation ofLife and Ten Minutes to Live earned high praise from the White community? And finally...