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Ma Rainey's Black Bottom: Art Isn't Easy

In a "quality film" season deeply truncated by the pandemic - we will never know what we're not seeing until well after the fact - it's easy to overstate the relative importance of Ma Rainey's Black Bottom finally getting a film adaptation. No doubt, it would be a contender even in normal circumstances. But this is not normal, and this Ma Rainey will shine more so by being the only game in town.

The second recent adaptation of an August Wilson play, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom secures the down payment on Denzel Washington's commitment to produce the full "decalogue" of August Wilson's plays, meant to cover the twentieth century experienced by black Americans. First up was Fences, which won Viola Davis her Oscar. And here, as Ma Rainey, her presence makes clear how these projects will be approached: as prestige vehicles with top flight casts, big name directors, and handsome productions.

Whether that's the best approach is harder to say; I suspect few will want to quibble, but like Olivier in the forties, filming Shakespeare's major works as prestige projects, the approach to Wilson may just be a necessary, well intentioned step towards cementing his importance. Later, when the stakes are lower and/or different, we can take apart these works and evaluate different ways of seeing them. But for now, presenting them as Very Important Art may be just how we get from here to wherever it is we wind up.

As it is, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom is an impressive mounting of an important works - the performances sing, and much of it is richly emotionally resonant. But for its impressiveness, choppy storytelling and the weight of expectations does rob the overall work of some of its potential audience impact. It's very well done; which is not the same as creating a visceral audience connection or response.

The setting is a sweltering Chicago recording studio in the twenties, where Ma Rainey, the Queen of the Blues, is set to record some sides. A "small" play, the action revolves around the interplay of her band, particularly a talented trumpet player with dreams of stardom; and Ma herself, the definition of diva, complete with a small entourage of a young man and woman who both attend to her needs and demands.

While overall, there's not necessarily much happening - the recording process at the time requires perfect takes captured mostly with hope and prayer - the tensions of recording, the demands of performance intersect with Wilson's storytelling, which is the real draw here. There are beautifully laid out monologues (acting arias, really) for several of the male principles, and Rainey herself talks about her realistic assessment of just how much stardom she has and its actual worth. Lost in these stories, the film takes on incredible depth, profound sadness, and the omnipresent powerlessness of people trapped in a society that can rob them of their humanity in a flash.

The role of Levee, the young trumpeter with big dreams, was the last project Chadwick Boseman filmed before his untimely death this past year, and it is definitely a rich, brilliant performance. Never one to phone it in, his commitment and intensity shines through, and I wouldn't rule out posthumous recognition. As big, important roles in major works go, this is a dream job for many young black actors, and having seen it, I can now see why. Still, "over the top" doesn't fully convey what Boseman has to try and make sense of here in his performance. As good as he is - and he's masterful - the screenplay isn't doing him a lot of favors, and it would be miraculous to pull off where this story goes. Boseman delivers a lot of miracles; so many, that what's not working here is definitely not on him.

As for Davis, I'm not entirely sure she's exactly right for the role; now in that rare position of stardom where her capabilities are matched to the best material, it's gratifying to see her stretch and take on roles outside of her comfort zone. Hell, we should all have so much willingness to dare to try. But this isn't an especially up piece of work to begin with, and there's a sense of joy missing from her solid, but often grim seeming, performance. Seeing the role, I'm curious how a number of "singers who act" (Jennifer Hudson leaps to mind) might tackle the part. No doubt, Davis is a fierce actress at the top of her game, and reverent with the material. I'm just not entirely convinced reverence is what this film needed most. 

George Wolfe's long history directing Wilson, and overall artistic commitment to chronicling the black experience makes him a natural for directing this, and he does what he can to open out what is, ultimately,  a great one set play (or one great set). More frustratingly, there's a choppiness to the storytelling that feels unnecessarily forced. I'm not sure film is Wolfe's strongest medium. As for the script, Ruben Santiago-Hudson has a sure hand for adapting works to film, and here he mostly seems to get out of the way and let Wilson's words speak.

And again... whether that's the best approach, or not, could be, and probably should be, debated at length. As it stands, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom lets an impressive cast, led by 2 stars in their prime, set a marker for bringing Wilson effectively to the screen. It may well be expecting too much to get a fully transcendent, moving experience to boot. In its best moments, this Ma Rainey really sings. Getting to a film that's more than moments may require trying less hard to make very important art. 

The New "Normal"

For me, it was during Biden's press event for his new HHS secretary and various other members of his health team: there he was, taking questions, giving thoughtful answers, outlining policy proposals, laying out a possible agenda for the first few months of his term... and there, I could see it. This was what we had been missing. This could be a return to normal.

Of course, we're not there yet, and 4 years of incredible dysfunction definitely leaves a mark. Our American instinct to instantly pretend we don't remember the bad, awful things minutes, months, moments after we have passed them is more of a curse at this point than a blessing. Painful as it is, we will need to talk about What Just Happened even as we "get back to normal" or really "getting back to normal" won't be any kind of normal at all.

Throughout Trump's farcical, damaging presidency, my metaphor has been "it's like your mom married a violent drunk, brought him home and said he was going to be your new dad." Your old dad, your real dad was a kind caring person... but dysfunctional dad is a nightmare. He rants and raves, he's wildly paranoid, you quickly begin to lose sleep fretting over what could happen next, you're embarrassed when he mouths off in public... and on and on. America has accepted the thinking of codependency and recovery, the worlds of AA and Al-Anon... but still, only a minority of families have experienced the deep dysfunction of alcohol, drug addiction and other traumatic mistreatment on a daily basis in their own homes. At least... not until Trump became President.

The dysfunction of Trump, the chaos around him was destabilizing, debilitating to our national psyche in so many ways. While that was immediately apparent to some, it eluded many at first, only becoming clear by degrees. They were the people who said, "I never thought it would get this bad" or "I never imagined he would..." at some further degrading of our national discourse, or finding kids in cages, or telling people to inject bleach.There were those who woke up, suddenly and said "I can no longer be a part of this," ad left the Republican Party, their job, their family, realizing that they needed to speak up. These are all steps on dealing with dysfunction. And there are those, as there will be, who simply refuse to see, or refuse to take action. Those who say "it's just like the flu" and "I'm sure there was massive voter fraud..." because it's better to be on the side of the bully, or because they're afraid, or because, really, they don't understand how wrong and how dangerous the dysfunction is. 

I always hesitate to share too much in the way of personal detail, but a lot of that fell away during these crazy years. I grew up in a dysfunctional household, my father was an alcoholic prone to mood swings and wild late night episodes of out of control behavior. You develop ways to cope with this because you have to cope. I learned how to pretend everything was fine, to treat crazy as normal, while always fearing the worst. And I learned to survive. 

Unlike many naysayers, I always figured we would reject Trump at the first opportunity, when enough people knew they had had enough. I thought it might be impeachment - I didn't even rule out Trump resigning - but in the end, the solution we chose was the simplest: we held an election and voted him out of office. And still the dysfunction rages. Of course he would claim fraud. Of course he would try to pervert every established venue to achieve his dysfunctional ends. That's what he does. That's who he is. Yes, he has succeeded in corrupting an entire political party while attempting to achieve his warped ends, and probably the GOP is beyond saving. But it's not mine to save, or to judge. Time will tell.

The dysfunction doesn't end when mom decides to throw dad out, or when dad finally, eventually goes. I say that from experience. The dysfunction starts to end when we - each of us, all of us - stand back and assess the damage. When we sort out what happened, and why, and learn from the experience. It can take months, or years, and even a lifetime. The first step was defeating Trump's reelection. The next step is removing him. And neither one should be thought of as the last step. This is just the beginning. I'm not sure we, as a nation, still fully appreciate that January will only be a start. Not an ending.

It is heartening to see Biden calmly and effectively assume control. It's a relief seeing the competent, professional team he is assembling, and resume the sense that official entities may get back to the business at hand, and not the whims of paranoid narcissist who lies all the time. It's nice to come home and not be worried that there's no dining room furniture because dad has thrown it onto the lawn and set it on fire.... but, I kind of had you there, for a moment, right? Life was better when you didn't know how that dining room furniture thing felt, wan't it? Well... welcome to the new normal. It's a lot like the old normal, except for that lingering sense of unease. 

 

 

This Year, To Save Me From Tears, I'll Give It To Someone Special...

I didn't intend to go quiet on blogging for over six months... but then, I didn't exactly plan on a global pandemic on top of what was already a disastrous presidency either. Life is funny that way. Things don't always work out as planned.

Like so many, it has been a tumultuous year, one of those years that underlines you will end a year not in the place you started. When we started I was mainly concerned about what we could do to make sure we had a better President. Now, that's kind of a distant second to figuring out what steps will be best to
protect the life of my 85 year old mother.

She's fine, and we're coping - which has definitely been the saving grace of all of this. And we did our part in supporting and pushing for what is now, ultimately, the start of a Biden era, the era many of us didn't know we wanted going in, but seems like the only option after all that's happened. Who knew Joe Biden's mix of unspectacular competence and lack of ego would suddenly be superpowers? The very things that, for years, had made him not quite a star among Democrats - the guy who with good ideas but just not quite enough pizzazz to be President - suddenly became not just the best answer, but pretty much the only answer. There will be time enough to lament various aspects of Biden - he wears his flaws as openly as his strengths -  but his calm, effective, and competent manner of showing up and doing the work is very much the right thing at just the right moment.

Its all over but the shouting... and goodness, what shouting. Trump was never going to leave quietly or rationally, and like everything in this 4 year tragicomedy of massive errors, knowing that this would go badly is still not the same as going through it. "Coup" or not, "challenge to democracy" or simply desperate attempts to get your way... Trump remains, to the (very) bitter end a Tyrant of the Toy Shop whose tantrums could be checked, if only the Republican party had a competent grown up to step in.

But they didn't and they don't and we continue to reap the whirlwinds, such as they are. As I write, we await word from the Supreme Court that they will (likely) turn away the last gasp lawsuit of the Texas Attorney General whose "pandering for pardons" gambit had to be sufficiently Texas sized to break through. Ken Paxton's lawsuit will be laughed out of court, but with sufficient seriousness to all but guarantee his Christmas wish of a pardon broad enough to make his federal investigations go away. And like so many of these upcoming pardons, it raises the interesting question of "how you can be pardoned for something you said you didn't even do?"

But of course, we will be living in Trumpworld until midnight on January 19th, a fantasy world where criminality is just a dressy outfit at the Grifters Ball. These terrible people, and their awful ways are just part of how life is, for now, anyway. We shall see what the new era, the return to decency looks like come next month -- and not a moment before. But when we do, I suspect a lot of what has been quietly put up with, not talked about, or not brought to justice, will likely face a comeuppance. I know, it doesn't look like that now. Not yet, anyway. But part of why Trump lost -- and despite our "it was too close" anxiety, was pretty much inevitable -- was how much of this indecency was simply unsustainable. Short of walking into stores, opening the registers and simply putting the cash in their wife's purse, how much more could we pretend was just acceptable? 

It's been a hard year. It's been a gross, atrocious 4 years of living the nightmare of this presidency. And while the way out of this will not be a sudden snap of waking up... I do suspect that the transition will be more of a whiplash than we can see from here. There is, of course, the last stages of disease and death we have yet to face before, hopefully, the vaccines and a real public health operation help us, finally, get past the pandemic. But there is a sense, calmly, of order being restored. With each announcement, every press appearance, Joe Biden reasserts the power of a presidency most of us remember as the Real Thing. And slowly, steadily, even sadly, the farce of Trump returns to its rightful place -- on the fringes, a sideshow for true believers and sycophantic saps too proud or too bitter to admit that, yet again, they've been had.

Last Christmas, for my family anyway, it was barely a Christmas. We had health issues, and work/life balance to contend with. This year, like so many, we are trying to create Christmas, and find a Christmas spirit, early and brightly. This year really is becoming a season of light - literally, all over town, all over America. Decorations are going up. Tress are coming out. This year.. to save us from a pandemic, we are trying to make Christmas actually special. And really... isn't that reason enough to have at least a little bit of hope?