by Gordon Nyenhuis
1. Introduction
Accurate depictions of minority groups are scarce within American media, as profit-oriented corporations tend to produce entertainment that is palatable to as many audiences as possible. As a result, the nuanced experiences of racialized communities tend to be undermined by tactics like personalization and oversimplification, which streamline complex political themes such as racial injustice to make them digestible to a majority-White audience (Haas et al. 33-34). This perpetuates harmful tropes, particularly as it pertains to African-American people, whose monotonous portrayal has ignored a plethora of experiences that do not align with Hollywood caricatures.
Cord Jefferson’s American Fiction rectifies these stereotypes through dramedy—a hybrid genre that is reflective of both the fallacy of Hollywood genre purity, and a nuanced view of Black experiences (Grant 23). Based on Percival Everett’s 2001 novel Erasure, the film follows Thelonious “Monk” Ellison, an author who struggles due to his books not being “Black enough” to be picked up by publishers, and because his emotional unavailability alienates him from his family. After his sister’s death, Ellison has to care for his mother with a neurodegenerative condition, and decides to write a novel that panders to publishers’ preconceived notions of Blackness in order to pay for her medical expenses. In doing so, Monk contemplates the morality of contributing to stereotypical narratives of African-American people, while repairing his relationships with family in the process.
American Fiction uses dramedy to criticize monotonous portrayals of Blackness, while simultaneously providing an alternative to the depictions that it satirizes, ultimately creating a more nuanced representation of African-American people. This essay examines how the juxtaposition of comedy and drama within certain sequences parodies and refutes harmful stereotypes of Black Americans, with a satirical book-reading scene and a dramatic reunion occurring subsequently in order to dismantle popular notions about Black women; a White executive’s description of Black masculinity being followed by a sequence with two actual Black men in order to deconstruct Black hyper-masculinity; and a sequence wherein imaginary Black characters inhabit the same space as a real Black person transpiring in order to debunk perceptions of African-Americans as criminals.
2. Black women as secondary and irresponsible
Black women encounter many racist and sexist stereotypes in their depictions in film, often revolving around the concept of motherhood. Archetypes like the “mammy” and the “madam” have portrayed African-American women as subservient or irresponsible, defining their characters through their relationships with men, particularly as it pertains to sexuality (Mapp 36). American Fiction acknowledges this cliché, and then immediately overturns it in the span of two scenes: one where an excerpt from a book about a pregnant Black woman is read aloud with a satirical effect, and the following where the audience meets the protagonist’s sister in a dramatic context.
In the former scene, Ellison stumbles into an interview at a book festival, wherein author Sintara Golden is discussing her novel We’s Lives in Da Ghetto—a title that is comedically played up for its exaggerated vernacular. When prompted to read an excerpt of it for the audience, Golden jarringly alters her tone of voice to match the more stereotypical tone of the book’s title. The section that she reads details a conversation between two Black women, one of which reveals that she might be pregnant, adding that if she is, “Ray-Ray’s gon’ be a real father this time around” (American Fiction 0:08:51). This portrayal of a pregnant Black woman who is implied to have had children with multiple men is reminiscent of the irresponsible mother trope perpetuated in several films, ultimately satirizing it as a form of critique (Rousseau 461).
Golden’s recitation is met with applause from the audience and a bewildered look from Ellison. A shot of him standing at the back of the auditorium occurs, where his expression is initially visible before a White woman leads a standing ovation and obscures him from view, acting as a visual metaphor for how Caucasian audiences figuratively obscure nuanced depictions of Black people in favour of those that align with their preconceived notions. A montage of White audience members applauding ensues, ending with a Black applauder, demonstrating that such representations may also be celebrated by those represented.
After brief shots of Ellison’s evening and following morning, however, we see Black women presented differently. He enters a family planning clinic and asks to see a Lisa Ellison at the front desk, upon which she appears with a doctor’s uniform and a confident demeanor. The stereotypes that were parodied in the previous scene are immediately rejected in a more dramatic sequence, where Monk sees his sister for the first time after a long absence. After a short greeting, the camera cuts to the two of them in a car, with Lisa at the helm. This works in tandem with her dark outfit to provide her visual weight in the composition of this shot, infusing her with a sense of authority and agency. After telling a law joke, Lisa reveals that she is recently divorced, further characterizing her as strong and independent, yet also humorous and intelligent. In depicting a self-assured, female Black doctor who specializes in family planning, the irresponsible mother that is pastiched only a few minutes prior is cemented as a mere stereotype, as this demonstrates that African-American women can also be educated community leaders who uplift those with unplanned pregnancies. Lisa’s role as a non-parental caregiver reverses the subservient “mammy” archetype, instead framing her support for others as an act of dignified leadership. By introducing the viewer to Lisa Ellison after a scene that satirically recognizes harmful media tropes surrounding Black women, American Fiction offsets humour with drama to criticize said tropes and provide a more nuanced alternative.
3. Black men as hyper-masculine
The archetype of the hyper-masculine Black man dates back to the era of African enslavement, when they would have been perceived as “closer to King Kong than mankind” by Europeans (Moody 62). This racist view has since embedded itself in North American society due to centuries of oppression, resulting in a “gangsta” identity that stems from self-hatred (Moody 62). This caricature is commonplace in American media, with many films reinforcing the notion that Black men’s expression of any emotion other than rage is indicative of weakness (Moody 63-64). American Fiction both acknowledges and challenges this stereotype through a comedic scene wherein Ellison speaks to a marketing executive about his book, followed by a more dramatic scene that highlights his brother’s complex relationship with masculinity.
The former takes place in two different settings concurrently—those being Ellison’s agent’s office, and the office of the publisher who has picked up his book—since the two parties are calling each other to discuss marketing strategies. Ellison has adopted a fake identity for the publication of this novel, and as such, has to perform a stereotypical form of male Blackness for the two White colleagues on the other end of the line, causing him to alter his demeanour from its usual state. He does so by making use of exaggerated vernacular, and an indifferent tone of voice that is akin to Moody’s unemotional “gangsta” (62). The publishing representatives respond to this performance through microaggressions that reaffirm this stereotype, with one calling him “my man” and describing his vision for the book’s cover: a muscular black man in a tank-top with “one of those scarves tied around his head” (American Fiction 1:09:21-1:09:50). In perceiving African-American men in this fashion (and not knowing what a durag is) these White higher-ups reinforce the narrative of hyper-masculine Black men and display their lack of proximity to Blackness. This is furthered through the harsh contrast between the neutral, earth-toned office of Ellison’s agent and the synthetic-looking white office of the publishing company representing the latter’s plastic sense of politeness that is embedded in privileged ignorance. This scene ironizes the cliché of African-American men as hypermasculine, satirically deconstructing this false notion.
The following sequence allows Ellison to behave as usual, and showcases his relationship with his brother, Cliff. The two interact in a manner contrary to the stoicism of the “gangsta” figure, preventing it from confining Black men to a stereotype. Cliff is openly gay, which is crucial in establishing how African-American masculinity can differ from colonial and patriarchal standards of heterosexuality. This is highlighted in a dramatic scene wherein Monk takes his brother to visit their mother in her care home. Cliff puts on some music and begins to slow dance with her, during which she says that she “always knew [he wasn’t] a queer” (American Fiction 1:18:12). This statement makes him visibly upset, causing him to leave the room. A hard-cut to a close-up of his face occurs, with him outside in the rain and seemingly on the brink of tears, his environment further communicating this emotional state. While this scene does depict a troubled Black man, he is not troubled for the same reasons as a criminal, instead being upset over an emotional conflict that has left him disheartened (rather than violently furious). In depicting a gay African-American man as emotional rather than dispassionate and aggressively heterosexual, the film strays from the hyper-masculine image of Blackness that White audiences like those at the publishing company have come to expect, presenting a more complex alternative. In its contrasting of parodies of toxic stereotypes, and dramatic depictions of realistic African-American men, American Fiction doubly quashes the trope of the “gangsta” male, creating a more positive portrayal of Blackness overall.
4. Black people as criminals
Due to the risk-averse nature of the film industry, Black directors are highly limited in the types of films that they can get funded, with major studios pigeonholing them into producing flicks with subject matter that ranges “from Eddie Murphy to criminal teenagers” (Margolis 52). The latter is a stereotype that perpetuates many White audiences’ views of African-American people as hostile, and has been foundational to Black media representation at large (Margolis 53). American Fiction satirizes and denounces this cliché through a single sequence wherein the characters from Ellison’s book appear as real humans inside of his study.
Following the news that Ellison’s mother is in the early stages of neurodegeneration and will eventually need around-the-clock care, this scene begins dramatically, with the author biting his nails in his study. This context sets up a contrast between Monk’s personal struggles and those of the characters in his book, showing the discrepancy between the problems that Black people are depicted facing in media and those that they face in real life. After skimming an article about Sintara Golden’s We’s Lives in Da Ghetto, he begins to type in a document on his computer. It is here when this scene begins to take a satirical turn, with the characters from the novel Ellison is typing appearing inside of the mise-en-scène and acting out the scene as he writes it. Their presence within his study creates visual irony, with them being dressed in cliché “street” clothing while inhabiting the study space of a wealthy and educated individual. Further, a police siren drones in the background as soon as the characters appear, pausing only when they break character to speak directly to Monk, and resuming immediately afterward until they leave the scene entirely. This siren represents how African-American people are inextricably linked to crime and violence in their media depictions, even though this is not the case in real life, with the suburban home that Ellison occupies being completely silent.
This scene parodies the “criminal teenager” archetype while drawing parallels between the fictional struggles of Monk’s characters and those that he deals with in his real life. The characters that the author writes about are two hyper-masculine Black men who make use of exaggerated swearing, and are heavily suggested to be involved in some kind of gang activity. One is revealed to be the other’s father, who abandoned his family as a child, causing the other to provide what Ellison refers to as a “dumb, melodramatic sob story” that “highlights [his] broken interiority”, with the scene culminating in him shooting his father and letting him bleed to death (American Fiction 0:37:47). While a clear satire of depictions of African-Americans as violent criminals, this scene mirrors some of the more dramatic elements of the film, with Monk’s family dealing with the abandonment of his father after he committed suicide several years prior. In juxtaposing the stereotypical neglectful father trope with the complex circumstances of Ellison’s father’s death that resulted in him having to care for his mother, American Fiction uses the dramedy genre to critique repetitive portrayals of Black people as criminals, while demonstrating how they can face issues like parental abandonment without embodying racist caricatures.
5. Conclusion
Racist stereotypes have pervaded media representations of African-American people for decades, resulting in a monotonous image of Blackness that has eclipsed the complexity and nuance of Black experiences. Through the use of dramedy, American Fiction is able to satirize these cliché depictions while also creating a more intricate portrayal of Black Americans that can be taken seriously because of its dramatic elements. In doing so, the film deconstructs past representations of African-Americans, opening the door to a wide array of untold stories.
Works Cited
Grant, Barry K. Film Genre: From Iconography to Ideology. Wallflower, 2007.
Haas, Elizabeth, et al. Projecting Politics : Political Messages in American Films. Taylor & Francis Group, 2015.
Jefferson, Cord, director. American Fiction. Orion Pictures, 2023.
Mapp, Edward. “Black Women in Films.” The Black Scholar, vol. 13, no. 5, 1982, pp. 36-40, https://www.jstor.org/stable/41068067.
Margolis, Harriet. “Stereotypical Strategies: Black Film Aesthetics, Spectator Positioning, and Self-Directed Stereotypes in ‘Hollywood Shuffle’ and ‘I’m Gonna Git You Sucka’.” Cinema Journal, vol. 38, no. 3, 1999, pp. 50-66, https://www.jstor.org/stable/1225524.
Moody, David L. The Complexity and Progression of Black Representation in Film and Television. Lexington Books, 2016.
Rousseau, Nicole. “Social Rhetoric and the Construction of Black Motherhood.” Journal of Black Studies, vol. 44, no. 5, 2013, pp. 451-471, doi: 10.1177/0021934713488786.