Blaxploitation: Social Commentary in “Blacula” and “Get Out”

The origins of the trope, Blaxploitation

The decade of the 70s saw a sudden surge in the popularity of movies termed ‘Blaxploitation’. Usually produced, directed and starring an all black casts (except for the white villains, of course), these movies were made for urban filmgoers. Meant primarily to entertain black audiences, they increasingly became films about black justice and morality- even though a preponderance of the films’ antiheros and antiheriones were people who lived outside the law or skirted on the edges of it for personal and racial reasons. They, in short, and for all their foibles in production values, became the voice of a culture longing for true justice and acceptance on their own terms (Cook).

Trope

‘Blaxploitation‘ filmmaking contributed to the social construction of race during an era where the ideologies of black nationalism and black pride became dominant social expressions of racial identity for African Americans. These films depicted a stronger and more capable image of African Americans who triumphed over (frequently racist) white antagonists. The effect of this change on the construction of cinematic narrative was to flip the terms of the hierarchical white-black opposition (Benshoff 33).

As these movies became more popularised, both African American and white filmmakers began to create political films that intentionally critiqued the white power structure in the US at the time (Benshoff 34). This post will be exploring the ways two popular films featuring African American leads from vastly different times connect to each other through this trope.

William Crain’s Blacula (1972)

Blacula as depicted in “The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy” on Cartoon Network.

 Blacula held an overtly political significance compared to its horror counterparts at the time, and it rose as a commercial box office success in 1972.

Blacula touches on the conventional African American experience in the 1970s. It has a direct reference to the history of slavery as well as the existence of police brutality implemented upon young African Americans. One reviewer stated, “I have . . . chosen to look upon the entire film as an effort by those responsible to show satirically the black man’s plight as a victim of white vampirism . . . Those who enjoy seeing the establishment take a whipping will be interested in the number of L.A. Police done in by this midnite creeper” (Benshoff 35).

References to Slavery

The “white vampirism” mentioned above is an explicit metaphor for slavery: “bitten by the racist Count Dracula centuries ago, the curse of vampirism becomes the lingering legacy of racism” (Benshoff 38). The white Count Dracula transforms his victim, Prince Mamuwalde, into a vampire who is forced to perpetuate this cycle of enslavement for centuries. Count Dracula gives Mamuwalde the name, Blacula, when the transformation was completed. Count Dracula robbed the prince of his name, life, and identity as a human being. This, “parallels the deculturization process of the slave industry, which denied African prisoners their families, religions, and even names,” (Benshoff 39).

Commentary on Police Brutality

Police brutality permeates throughout the movie and is directly referenced through lines such as, “Funny how so many sloppy police jobs involve black victims.” As in many blaxploitation films, “the police department here is full of racist officers, more than willing to share their racist statements with anyone who will listen,” (Hefner 66). Mamuwalde’s never turns any of his white police victims into vampires, instead he generally kills them by smashing their heads against walls. This violence intentionally acts a cry of defiance against the unjust killings of African Americans by police officers, and it resonated with the audience.

This theme is visited again in Peele’s Get Out and is especially poignant after the latest string of deaths of African Americans caused by police brutality.

Redefining the Monster

Although monstrosity in horror films has often worked to demonize difference (whether racial, sexual, or otherwise), Blacula reverses this dynamic. (Hefner 63). Instead of being seen as a monster, the vampire transforms into an agent of black pride and black power. Blacula is on a quest for revenge, and his goal is to clean up the streets.  This character is used as an empowering black figure instead of a reprehensible monster, which serves as a clear break from the vampire tradition (Benshoff 37).

Jordan Peele’s Get Out (2017)  

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS

Chris and Rose upon arriving at Missy and Dean’s manor.

Please watch the trailer here .

 Get Out is a stinging criticism of the white liberalism that carries itself as empathetic towards blacks, but that empathy only extends as far as white control. Peele isn’t taking aim at neo-Nazis and other whites who would angrily shout the n-word. They’re a lost cause. Instead, he’s looking at those who profess their lack of racism, but only do so if they can maintain their dominance over black people in the most insidious manner possible. As Chris pointedly notes to Rose at [a] party full of white people, “Has anyone here ever met a black person that didn’t work for them?” (Goldberg)

References to Slavery

Nostalgia reeks through the provincial “Old South” setting. First of all, the setting is a plantation in the middle of nowhere. Additionally, there is an antiquated television set in the basement,  elderly white folk, Bingo, and an excessive use of  photography. Photos play a crucial part in this movie, but none of the photos are digital – they are all physical copies (like the ones found in the shoe box – dun dun duun!).

These are all examples of remediation, because they take an antiquated form of technology and transports it to modern times. The use of remediation builds an atmosphere that is reminiscent of the “Old South,” and the pervasiveness of microagressions along with the presence of elderly white people builds on top of the anxiousness of the setting. It’s almost as if the audience is being transported to another era. The way that the characters are dressed is not  contemporary (spoiler: Logan, pictured below, has been brainwashed and was formerly known as a street-wise artist named Andre), and the old fashioned etiquette and setting feels both familiar and unsettling. This becomes especially true when we learn that there are two African Americans working on the house grounds. This is a direct reference to slavery, and it is brought up by the owner of the house, Dean, who essentially tells Chris, “I know it looks bad… white land owners and black workers…  but we’re not racist and it’s not what you think.”

Moments before Logan’s “malfunction“.

Peele uses a clever tactic to reveal how African Americans are being subjugated to conform to a greater white power structure in modern day society. The two African American workers, Georgina and Walter, are extremely uncanny. Although they are all smiles, there is a real fear and sense of resentment and hostility hiding beneath their bright demeanours.

Time for a few more spoilers…

The family uses a ploy to capture African Americans and take their bodies. Literally, the father, a neurosurgeon, takes the consciousness of an elderly (usually disabled) white person and puts it into the body of an African American. All of the microagressions Chris faced revolved around his bodies act as a direct reference to the way society views black bodies – especially male black bodies – as sexually viable, athletic, capable, and exotic, which is exploited by this film. Why use black bodies as opposed to laser-shooting robots, young white athletes, or awesome chimera hybrids? Why black people?

My answer to that question is because African Americans, along with other marginalized communities, are still being treated as second class citizens. This film serves as a commentary on white power in a supposedly “enlightened” society. Although we understand that racism and prejudice are wrong, these long established views of African Americans continue to be held by the ruling upper (white) class.

One moment that stands out is a brief interaction between Chris and Georgina, the housekeeper. Chris runs upstairs to escape the oppressive party and is confronted by Georgina. When Georgina asked why Chris is in the room, he replies, “When there’s too many white people I get nervous.” Suddenly, Georgina’s smiley face breaks down. Georgina struggles to refrain from crying and tries to soothe Chris by saying, “No, no, no, no, no.”

Source

She proceeds to tell Chris, “That’s not my experience/ They’re so good to us/ They treat us like family.”This is obviously a lie, because the amount of sheer distress Georgina feels directly contradicts the statements coming out of her mouth.

Georgina is actually one of Rose’s ex-lovers who was lured into the family home, brainwashed, and now inhabited by Rose’s deceased grandmother. This dual personality represents the double consciousness that African Americans hold as they try to reconcile their history in a white-dominated space. “Double consciousness” was coined by W.E.B Dubois and is a term that describes the internal conflict experienced by subordinated groups in an oppressive society.

Commentary on Police Brutality

Rose and Chris are pulled over by a cop in the beginning, and the cop treats Chris as if he is a criminal. Luckily, Rose stands up for Chris and points out the cop’s racist actions (he asked for Chris’s driver’s license even though Rose was the one who was speeding). This interaction is a direct critique on the police department in the US, who is often criticised for being racially biased against African American men.

It’s not the police, but the TSA, who come to the rescue.

I’ve never heard an audience clap and cheer as loud as they did when Rod, Chris’s TSA best friend, stepped out of what we assumed to be a police vehicle in the final scene.  Rose is lying on the ground with a gunshot wound to the stomach pleading for help. This is a historical reference to stereotype of the white female victim vs. black male perpetrator. The white female was historically viewed as passive and innocent, while the black male was viewed as sexually aggressive and corrupt. Historically, even if there was no evidence of rape or sexual assault, black men were routinely tried and even lynched for interacting with white women under the assumption that they were a danger to white women. Here, the story twists this stereotype on its head because it was Rose who was chasing Chris with a shotgun. Chris managed to get the gun from her and take her out instead. Suddenly, what looks like a police car comes onto the scene and the audience collectively recoils and gasps, “Nooooooo!” We all knew what was about to happen – Chris was going to be arrested and tried for murder, and no one was going to believe his story about Rose’s twisted family. That’s why when Rod stepped out of the car, the audience cheered with relief and joy (he steals the scene with his sense of humour every single time!).

Redefining the Other

 Get Out draws on the visceral experience of being objectified or colonized by another consciousness (Wilkinson).

There is a presence of hyper mediation throughout the film, which is accomplished by changing the point of view to from the objective cinema camera lens to Chris’s photographic camera lens. During the (surprise!) reunion party where all of Rose’s elderly relatives come to the house, Chris is faced with micro aggression after micro aggression on comments on his physical features, genetic build, and bodily capabilities. Chris is paraded about like a spectacle. Chris, in his own way, turns Rose’s family into a spectacle. His camera acts as a tool for hyper mediation, and the audience gets to see through Chris’s point of view. Through the camera lens, we see Georgina waiting for Missy’s next instruction. We also see Dean and a crowd of his relatives pointing towards Chris, as he tries to take a snap shot of them.

Dean pointing towards Chris during the party scene.

They eagerly try to lure him over, but Chris looks away and pretends not to notice. Suddenly, the camera lens is gone and the scene breaks from Chris’s point of view. As he rushes up the stairs to Rose’s bedroom for air, the chatter dies down and everyone turns to watch him leave.

Although Chris is not redefining the vampire, he is redefining the role of African American men in media. He is a genuinely nice guy, a gifted photographer, and a respectable person. He is not a thug, a villain, or an ex-convict. He is just an average guy with no ill-intentions at all. He isn’t the monster in this story, the family is.

Technology

Technology plays a critical role in the movie. For example, Chris’s phone is his only connection to the outside world. He uses the phone to talk to his best friend, Rod, and joke about the odd situation he is in. Strangely – whenever Chris charges the phone, someone else comes and unplugs it.

Additionally, the hypnosis that Logan, Walter, and Georgina are under is reversible by the flash setting on Chris’s phone. When Chris accidentally snaps a photo while trying to videotape Logan’s odd behaviour, the flash goes off and Logan breaks out of his spell. With a stream of blood running down his nose, Logan screams at Chris to, “Get out!”

Redefining a Community through Media

What do these films accomplish? Both box-office hits, these two films redefine the role of African American men and act as a tool for social commentary in a traditionally white space. They each critique the white power structure and serve to remind the audience, symbolically, the plight African Americans have and continue to take. Although they were written with a significant time gap in-between, they tackle similar issues including police brutality and African American identity.

Works Cited

Benshoff, Harry M. “Blaxploitation Horror Films: Generic Reappropriation or Reinscription?” Cinema Journal, vol. 39, no. 2, 2000, pp. 31–50.

Blacula. Dir. William Crain. American International Pictures, 25 Aug. 1975.

Cook, Nickolas. “Top 13: Best of Blaxploitation Horror.” The Black Glove: Horror Culture and Entertainment. Awesome Inc., 04 Nov. 2009. Web.

Get Out. Dir. Jordan Peele. Blumhouse Productions, QC Entertainment, 24 Feb. 2017.

Goldberg, Matt. “‘Get Out’ Review: Jordan Peele Paints a Terrifying Picture of Modern Enslavement.” Collider. 22 Feb. 2017. Web.

Hefner, Brooks E. “Rethinking Blacula : Ideological Critique at the Intersection of Genres.” Journal of Popular Film & Television 40.2 (2012): 62-74. International Bibliography of Theater & Dance with Full Text

Pinedo, Isabel. “Recreational Terror: Postmodern Elements of the Contemporary Horror Film.” Journal of Film and Video48.1/2 (1996): 17-31.

Wilkinson, Alissa. “Get Out Is a Horror Film about Benevolent Racism. It’s Spine-chilling.” Vox. Vox, 24 Feb. 2017. Web.

Death in Dead Set

Death in Dead Set breaks some of the fundamental rules of film.  Actually, the entire series as a whole breaks some – if not all – of the rules in the 5 phases of disaster located in Susan Sontag’s “Against Interpretation.” Although this is fits into the horror genre, it contains certain sci-fi elements.

These include (Sontag 209-210):

  1. The arrival of the thing
  2. Confirmation of the hero’s report by a host of witnesses to a great act of destruction
  3. Conferences between scientists and the military take place, with the hero lecturing
  4. Further atrocities, the hero’s girlfriend is put in grave danger
  5. More conferences, whose motif is: “They must be vulnerable to something.”

Most importantly, “The films reflect world-wide anxieties, and they serve to allay them,” (225).

So why did Dead Set go with the ending it had? Why was there no explanation behind the disease? Why didn’t we get a close up of any scientists working in the background? Why was the ending so abysmal? All of these could be answered by the fact that this show is a giant metaphor, but still… the unexpected bleakness of the ending was totally shocking and somewhat unsatisfying.

Here’s a few things that riled me up, because I wasn’t expecting them:

NO ONE SURVIVES – not even the main heroine!

www.mediafactory.org.au/michael-liberale/2015/08/13/dead-set-and-zombie-audiences/%5B/caption%5D

“The rule, of course, is that his horrible and irremediable form of [disaster] can strike anyone in the film except the hero,” (222). Whelp. That’s thrown out of the window!

Those who commit heinous acts or sexually transgress make it to the FINAL episode, while the innocent die almost immediately (minus Riq).

In horror movies, who dies first? THE ONES WHO DO BAD THINGS! Even the ones who sexually transgress – i.e. commit adultery, lose virginity, etc – are typically thrown out of the window. Didn’t anybody watch Scream?

www.tes.com/lessons/Mt2fWMCEz9-7oA/scream%5B/caption%5D

Nevertheless, who dies before the scum of the show? Alex and Riq, the two most innocent characters.

The ONLY two likeable characters in the entire show are Alex and Riq. Alex dies somewhere halfway, while Riq is shot by Patrick in the end.  Matt points out that Riq is the only character that is not eaten or killed by a zombie. Even when all hell breaks loose and the gates open, the zombies jump over Riq to get to the other people. He was the only one who didn’t watch the show. He was the only uncorrupted protagonist.

On the other hand, who gets to live?

  1. The guy in the pink shirt who opened the door and got one of the members killed in the first place
  2. The piece of crap, Patrick, who stays on until the end. Admittedly, this made his death even more satisfying (though I couldn’t watch it!). Never has there been a character that I hated more than him.
  3. Gollum, the perverted old fool, lives long enough to kill everybody by opening the gate. Was this an act of revenge on the group for making fun of him? He was corrupted since the beginning, but he made it to the final episode. Yay.
  4. Kelly is a dear, but didn’t she cheat on her boyfriend? According to Jeffrey Cohen’s “Monster Culture (Seven Theses)”, those who commit sexual transgressions are doomed to die or become an outcast. Kelly turns this on it’s head, because not only does she survive the longest – she is one of the leaders in the group.

Something that was less surprising was this…

The bodies of the ONLY two minority characters are mutilated, plus they are the first two who die in the main group. Not sure if this is worth pointing out, but it did come to mind almost immediately. Another metaphor?

dawningcreates.com/tag/dead-set/%5B/caption%5D

 

Works Cited

Brooker, Charlie. Dead Set. E4. directed by Yann Demange. Netflix. 

Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome. Monster Culture (Seven Theses). 4-25. 

Sontag, Susan. Against Interpretation and Other Essays. New York: Delta-Dell, 1966. 209-225.

 

Creeping Vines: The True Monster in Paul Tremblay’s “A Head Full of Ghost”

Creeping Vines on Brick Wall. Source: https://www.dreamstime.com/photos-images/creeping-vines-brick-wall.html

Marjorie warns Merry throughout the book that the person who is actually possessed is their father, John. In Marjorie’s “growing-things” story, John slowly poisoned their mother to death and was in the process of killing Marjorie. His last victim would be the young, innocent Merry. Marjorie insisted that the “growing-things” story was true stating, “That one’s mine. That one is – real. You still can’t ever forget that story, little Merry,”  (Tremblay 125).

When the new night routine is set up, Marjorie spends the entire night watching John through the open door. Marjorie reveals, “I think he might be the one who’s possessed… Hasn’t he been acting so strange? So over-the-top religious now, and always so angry? I’m scared. I think he thinks about doing bad things, really bad things, like in the growing-things story I told you,” (184).

Like the creeping vines in Marjorie’s “growing things” story, John chokes the life out of every person in the house. He becomes possessed with such religious fervour, that he exploits his daughter’s illness and tears the family apart.

“The Shining” (Here’s Johnny Scene). Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-ABIIZV3vA

John is depicted as irrational, violent, and on the verge of mental collapse. “He grew scarier by the day,” Merry recollected, as John turned to religious zeal to deal with his oldest daughter’s illness (192). Was he exploiting Marjorie to make money to support his family? Did he truly believe that his daughter was possessed by a demon?

When the family members were offered the chance to give individual commentary on camera, John “didn’t talk to the camera. He orated. He gave pep talks about how our family would overcome. He proselytised, working in Bible references,” whenever he could (188). John became deranged and was living somewhere between fiction and reality. He had no control over what was happening to his daughter, yet he tried everything he could to control it. There is no real explanation for Marjorie’s illness, but John is convinced that he can save her. His zeal fills him with energy and power, often erupting into violent outbursts and even resulting in an untimely arrest.

On the other hand, the mother, Sarah, slowly deteriorates. “She looked older with her puffy, bloodshot eyes. She gave me an unsure, sad smile. I thought about telling her that her teeth looked really yellow, that she was smoking way too much,” (140). Sarah collapses into a heap of guilt and becomes less emotionally stable, because she didn’t stand her ground against her husband’s wish of performing an exorcism and broadcasting it. As a result, she is alienated from her husband, Merry is bullied at school, protestors are lining the sidewalk, and Marjorie is disappearing altogether. The once put-together and sane mother continues to break down with each passing page, as if she were being slowly poisoned to death and buried alive beneath the weight of it all.

The cameras broadcasting Marjorie’s illness act as a public execution. Marjorie’s social life is completely dead and she is cut off from the outside world. Girls from her school start up an Instagram page and post images of Marjorie with disgustingly sexual captions and screenshots. Marjorie is unable to function even remotely as a normal teenager, and she is held prisoner in the hospital wards and church sermons. I have not finished the book, but I predict that the worse is yet to come.

Marjorie never asked for any of this. John is the one who offered up possession and exorcism as feasible diagnosis and treatment. John is the force behind it all, the one who pushes the family to the edge of destruction.


Marjorie as the Monstrous-Feminine

In addition to understanding the vines, this post intends to explore the relationship between Marjorie and Regan from The Exorcist. There are a number of notable similarities between the two characters. A few tie back to Barbara Creed’s “The Monstrous-Feminine.”

    1. “While the theme of spiritual decline is central to The Exorcist, it is secondary to the film’s exploration of female monstrousness and the inability of the male order to control the woman whose perversity is expressed through her rebellious body,” (Creed 34). Throughout the novel, John unsuccessfully attempts to control Marjorie’s illness. Unfortunately, he has zero control over her illness and even less control over her body as a whole. For example, when the family and crew bring Merry upstairs to confront her sister for the first time, Marjorie is topless. John wants Marjorie to cover up in front of the cameras, but he is unable to do so without the risk of interfering with Father Wanderly’s work. An almost incestual act has been involuntarily committed by John. The idea of control is central to Tremblay’s work, because there is a total lack of control. The father, the male figure, is trying to control the daughter’s body to no avail. John is unable to come to terms with this fact, and destroys his family in the process.
    2. There is a graphic association of the monstrous with the feminine body (37).  Marjorie’s body transformation mimics that of Regan. This includes the red marks on her stomach, the green vomit, the dingy hair and deranged eyes, and the multiple voices that are somehow still her own. She possesses a “body in revolt” (40). The source of this revolt, however, is unclear.
    3. While Marjorie represents Regan, Merry represents Regan’s mother. Merry is the only one who could pacify Marjorie as well as bring out her demons. Merry is the closest person to Marjorie, and Marjorie often confides her deepest secrets to her.

“DON’T PROFIT OFF THE DEVIL’S WORK”

www.blumhouse.com/2015/12/02/is-the-exorcist-movie-cursed/


Works Cited

Creed, Barbara. The Monstrous-Feminine : Film, Feminism, Psychoanalysis.London: Routledge, 1993. Print.

Tremblay, Paul. A Head Full of Ghosts: A Novel. New York, NY: William Morrow, an Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, 2015. Print.

Examining “Be Right Back” under a postmodern lens

Ash

Black Mirror’s “Be Right Back” holds several elements of postmodern horror. The most notable is the creation of Ash, the monster. Similar to the classical monster found in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, the postmodern monster is one who, “violates the social norm and blurs the lines between ‘me/not me, human/nonhuman, life/death,'” (Pinedo 21). Some obvious questions include:

  • How human is the new Ash?  What is the line between man and machine?
  • In a world where it is almost second-nature to document each passing moment electronically, do we ever truly die? If  robot Ash could repossess ALL of Ash’s memories – and not just the digital ones – could he escape death?

The existence of such an uncanny character, as evidenced by many previous posts, is difficult to outright commend or vilify. Ash’s existence “blurs the boundaries between good and evil, normal and abnormal,” and leaves us feeling unsettled (21). Nevertheless, Ash’s existence is not immediately condemned in other posts on this thread. For example, Aaron uses his post to claim that, “temporary rebirth would allow the grieving person to better their emotional state,” as in the case of the pregnant Martha. Although Ash’s replacement is essentially a “monster,” he made Martha feel better. Therefore, having a temporary ‘partner’ could potentially benefit society. There is, however, an emphasis on temporary since this situation seems unnatural.

Martha

Similar to Nancy in A Nightmare on Elm Street, Martha “survives because she rejects the rational belief that dreams are not real and instead puts her faith in the irrational premise that collapses dream and reality,” (22). Martha decides that she cannot live without Ash even if he is in a synthetic form. She couldn’t push robot Ash over the edge of the cliff, because his very existence blurred the lines between reality and fiction. Martha survives by choosing to live in this fiction and putting aside rational thought (that being: turn the poor robot off, follow the five stages of grief, and get back to normal life – maybe even meet someone new?). The irrationality of her actions in the end are exactly what save her. Imagine if she had pushed the sobbing, begging image of her husband to its death? Wouldn’t the consequences have been much worse? How could she live with herself?

“Nothing is what it seems to be in a postmodern horror,” (22). Truly, nothing is what it seems. I wonder if Martha dates or has other people come over to her home. I wonder if she still has contact with her family, or if she completely abandoned them. In the end, all we are left with are the images of Martha, Ash, and their daughter alone in their home.

Death

“Horror exposes the terror implicit in everyday life: the pain of loss, the enigma of death, the unpredictability of events… terror is a routinely repressed aspect of everyday life,” (26).

Why is death such a foreign concept for us? Death is a natural part of life, but we rarely see it in a modernized world. The only times we encounter death on a daily (if daily) basis is through the news where it’s linked to violence, disease, or accidents. Even Ash died in an accident and in the end Martha couldn’t let him go… Any thoughts?

 

Works Cited

“Be Right Back.” Black Mirror, season 2, episode 1, Channel 4, 1 Feb. 2013. Netflix. 

Pinedo, Isabel. “Recreational Terror: Postmodern Elements of the Contemporary Horror Film.” Journal of Film and Video48.1/2 (1996): 17-31.

Universal Studios. An image of Frankenstein’s monster (Boris Karloff), Wikipedia, 1935.