Denzel Washington

[Carrol Cox <cbcox@xxxxxxxxx>]

Alex P. Kellog, "'Agh, a Negro!'" _Colorlines_ (Spring 2002), pp. 36-38.

_Denzel Washington avoids the racial pitfalls of Hollywood and redefines
the black antihero_

        Black antiheroes are not new to cinema. D. W. Griffith's _The Birth of
a Nation_, literally the birth of modern film, placed black antiheroes
-- including an evil-causing mulatto woman -- square in the middle of
its story line. Meant to be a post-Reconstruction  history lesson,
Griffith's film   tells a familiar tale -- that of blacks who commit the
cardinal sins of sexually craving for whites _and_ equal rights (the two
going in tandem), who in the end finally get their due (that would be
death). Nowadays, black actors and actresses will inevitably spend a
portion of their careers fighting racial demonization, thanks less to
Griffith's canonization of the black male as black rapist than to the
history of racial oppression in America, and its insidious
legitimization of white hysteria in the face of black humanity.

        Perhaps mor than any other black actor now in a theater near you,
Denzel Washington, the quintessential good guy on celluloid, carries the
burden of transcending the racial boundaries imposed by mainstream
America while remaining true to his cultural roots.

        In his latest film, Washington has taken on the Herculean task of
recasting the black antihero, betting it all on his ability to carry the
day and not fall prey to playing a sterotyped role as a stereotype.
?Thought the mainstream (read: white) lens, Washington's portrayal of
the bad black man in _Training Day_ may reinforce white stereotypes of
black masculinity, black sexuality, and the very essense of blackness
itself. Yet Washinton's reprisal of the black antihero is a masterful
humanization of this traditionally stereotyped norm. What's more,
Washington's latest role indicates how much he's learned from his
predecessor, Sidney Poitier, about maintaining his viability as a
leading black actor.

_Cautionary Tale_

        . . . .Poitier . . .choice words of advice. Pick your first three roles
wisely, for they will define your career. Poitier, successful on so many
fronts, was ultimately a victim of Tinsel Town's tempered liberalism.
Hollywood had become particularly preachy and out of touch on the issue
of race in the late 1960s . . . .While he successfully undermined the
myth of black evil, Poitier eventually found himself pigeonholed into
agenda roles meant to prove that Hollywood was in fact the least racist
place of all.

        . . ._Guess who's coming to dinner_ (that would be a Negro...agh!),
exemplifies the best and the worst of his career. While it was the first
time a film with a black leqd was number one in the box office, it also
signaled the drastically declining relevance of Hollywood's whitewashed
liberal agenda, now far removed from the more radical racial politics
taking place on the streets of America. Particularly because the role
was so nauseatingly assimilationist, Poitier quickly lost all legitimacy
in the eyes of many young black moviegoers, themselves at the forefront
of a new wave of cross-cultural radicalism. . . .Poitier's career would
never fully recover.

_Does Denzel Have an Agenda?_

        Still, the martginalization Poitier endured . . .not lost on his
successors, least of all his contemporary torchbearer, Washington. That
fact is readily apparent in Washington's career choices. Denzel has nev
er kissed a white woman on film, much less engaged in an intimate
relationship with one (the one exception is in _Malcolm X_, which
historical accuracy required). Interracial love scenes were removed from
_Devil in a Blue Dress_, _The Mighty Quinjn_ and _The Pelican Brief_.
Washington refused the lead role in Spike Lee's Jungle Fever, which
instead was leapt upon by Wesley Snipes, who has publicly celebrated the
fact that he does not date black women.

        But aside from his choice of on-screen bedfellows, the clearest
indications Washington has given of his political agenda are in his
refusal to drive Miss Daisy, so to speak. . . .Malcolm X. . . .Nobody in
their right mind would have ezpected Washington to win for playing a
powerful, rightfully angry black man, particularly one who upset many a
white psyche. . . .these films might never have been made (or if they
were, never distributed by any major studio) if it weren't for the
charisma and star power of Washington himself. It may take a few more
leaps before Hollywood awards black pride, _and_ its frequently
necessary corollary, black fury, proper acknowledgment.

_Subverting STereotypes_

        Until then, we have Washington's creativity to thank for shifting
paradigms (rather than falling victim to them as Poitier did). For in
his latest role, Washington has taken on the black antihero and made him
a real human being, rather than the two dimensional, primitive demon he
has too often been. . . .

        In _Training Day_ . . .Washington plays Alonzo Harris, an ambitious yet
jaded narcotics officer compromised by his own pragmatism. . . .Training
Day is not Washington's _Guess Who's Coming to Dinner_. In fact, it is
his antithetical response to that role, which came to define hsi
predecessor Poitier's career. Whereas Poitier felt forced to do
assimilationist blather at the height of his success, Denzel has
leveraged his legitimacy both in the mainstream and among his black
constituents in a way that is both drastic and daring.

        Alonzo, a veteran of the Machiavellian war on drugs waged in the very
communities he comes from, has grown into an accomplished cynic ready to
get out of narcotics and apss the torch to Hoyt, in whom he sees
promise. . . .

        . . . .So on the face of it, you have a tried-and-true Hollywood
cliche: Washington in the exaggerated trappings of the black stereotype
(the gold, the slang, the walk, and talk), corrupting the lily white,
saintly and blue-collar Hawke, who lives to see another day. . . .In the
end, Alonzo is not evil because he's black, he's evil because he's
corrupted by a system in which success and exploitation go hand in hand.

        Unfortunately, the subtle success Washington achiev es is lost, perhaps
not surprisingly, on at least one of his reviewers (remember the lens).
. . .Elvis Mitchell [NYT] couldn't resist poking a meager jab at
Washington's performance (and indirectly and perhaps unknowingly, at
black humanity). Drawing a comparison with a leading white man's
portrayal of a burnt-out suburban dad in _American Beauty_, Mitchell
proposes that "it's as if a black man isn't allowed to use irony in a
performance, the same distancing device Kevin Spacey used to ride
_American Beauty_ to an Oscar, commenting on the role while playing it."
Here, we see how the subtlety of black resistance is too often lost in
the white gaze. First of all, it is incredibly patronizing to suggest
black actors must be "allowed" something to accomplish it. As has been
demonstrated by Washington himself, life for any black person (actor or
no) is necessarily about comment and critique (whether virbalized or
acted out), and of course, a terribly real sense of the ironic.

        Washington's latest role must not be viewed in a vacuum. Let's remember
that the majority of mainstream roles Washington has taken were written
for a white man. Most in fact, explicitly were. His role as a lawyer who
defends an AIDS-stricken victim of discrimination in _Philadelphia_ was
explicitly written for a white actor. John Grisham vehemently opposed
Washington being cast as the lawyer who exposes the conspiracy behind a
Supreme Court Justice's murder in _The Pelican Brief_, as he had
imagined that character as white. In other instances, the race of the
lead was not designated . . . .but it might as well have been. . . .

        . . . .We must recall that Washington has not only played roles meant
for white men, but he has helped make them black, meaning he has
positioned race as fundamental rather than incidental. Take for example
the scene in _The Pelican Brief_ where a black Dnzel could not get a cab
when running after the (white) bad guys. Srike you as ironic? Think that
part was written for a white guy? Let's just suppose Washington thought
that scene might be educational to some of his audiences, and
tremendously ironic to those in the know. They've got words for that
kind of double achievement: comment, and critique.

        Thanks to Washington, we may have moved one step closer to burying the
tired stereotype of the black antihero. We may also have moved one step
closer to resurrecting him, this time as a real human being. For that,
he deserves more than an Oscar.

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