Cord Jefferson, writer on such quality television shows as The Good Place and HBO’s Watchmen, is making his feature directorial debut with the film American Fiction starring Jeffrey Wright. The trailer, which dropped today, is giving highbrow Sorry To Bother You vibes in the best way.
According to MGM, American Fiction tells the story of “Monk, a frustrated novelist who’s fed up with the establishment profiting from ‘Black’ entertainment that relies on tired and offensive tropes. To prove his point, Monk uses a pen name to write an outlandish ‘Black’ book of his own, a book that propels him to the heart of hypocrisy and the madness he claims to disdain.”
The above trailer is hilarious as Jeffrey Wright’s Monk—clearly an erudite, cultured, refined individual—needs to start portraying his pseudonym in person, dipping into his well of Black stereotypes to cobble together the alter ego “Stagg R. Leigh,” an ex-con who may or may not have “been inside” for murder.
We see the toll it takes on Monk when he says, “I wish I could go back to not selling books.” Sure, he’s profiting handsomely off this charade, playing the establishment’s racism against it for his own gain, but there’s a cost to this, too. Not only is he selling out his own beliefs and ethics, but it seems that despite this alter ego being the toast of the town, “Stagg R. Leigh” is still seen as less-than. As a criminal. And eventually, no matter how much white America is entertained by him, at the end of the day he will always be a Black man they are willing to lock up the second they have a “good enough reason.”
I said that this film gives Sorry To Bother You vibes, but it seems to serve as an inverted bookend to that film. Whereas Sorry To Bother You told the story of a Black man (Lakeith Stanfield) who becomes professionally successful because he’s really good at vocally hiding his Blackness and sounding like a white man, American Fiction examines the flipside of that—what does it mean for Blackness to be trendy and sellable? Commodification isn’t inclusion when “representation” amounts to nothing more than the dominant group’s idea of what a marginalized group is like.
The line that hit me the hardest in this trailer is when Monk is on the phone with his agent, Arthur (John Ortiz), who tells him, “Editors, they want a Black book.” Monk replies, “They have a Black book. I’m Black, and it’s my book.”
Arthur says, “You know what I mean.”
I’m not Black, but like Arthur, I’m Latine. I’m also a writer in a world where it’s very popular to talk about things like diversity and inclusion, while not doing very much to actually nurture those things. I’m constantly being told that people are “looking for” Latina writers. They must not be looking very hard, because I’m over here waving my arms around telling literally everyone that I’m Latina and that I write things.
But too often, when people are “looking for” Latine writers, or any writers from a specific marginalized group, they already have an idea of what type of thing those writers are going to provide. I’m generally a sci-fi/fantasy writer. Latines are underrepresented in genre storytelling, especially as writers, directors, or producers. Yet, when I do see Latine creatives represented, they’re often telling specific types of Latine stories—stories palatable to non-Latine white folks, because they don’t challenge white people’s comfort or dominance in a particular storytelling area.
Stories about “culture clashes” and immigration. Stories about Latines in “noble” blue collar jobs no one else wants. Stories about Latines in the criminal justice system. Stories about Latines doing some magical realism sh*t to teach profound lessons to gringos. Stories about “overcoming adversity” in the ways that only Latines experience it. Stories about Latines somehow being the “other” in the United States.
Never mind that there are plenty of Latines who’ve been U.S. citizens for generations. Never mind that Puerto Rico, where my family is from, is a U.S. colony (excuse me, “Commonwealth”), and so Puerto Ricans are American citizens whether they are born on the Mainland U.S. or not.
When Monk said “They have a Black book. I’m Black, and it’s my book,” that just as easily could’ve come out of my mouth in defense of anything I’ve ever written. This is a Latina script. I’m a Latina, and it’s my script. It shouldn’t have to be a non-Latine’s version of what being Latina is in order to get made or seen.
American Fiction has already been getting rave reviews after its premiere at the Toronto Film Festival. The rest of us will have the chance to see it when it hits theaters on December 15.
(featured image: MGM)
