Do the Right Thing • Black Directors • Independent Film
Greenscreening Series #44
February 4, 2024
February 4, 2024
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Synopsis:
Set on one block of Brooklyn’s Bed-Stuy Do or Die neighborhood, at the height of summer, this 1989 masterpiece by Spike Lee confirmed him as a writer and filmmaker of peerless vision and passionate social engagement. Over the course of a single day, the easygoing interactions of a cast of unforgettable characters—Da Mayor, Mother Sister, Mister Señor Love Daddy, Tina, Sweet Dick Willie, Buggin Out, Radio Raheem, Sal, Pino, Vito, and Lee's Mookie among them—give way to heated confrontations as tensions rise along racial fault lines, ultimately exploding into violence. Punctuated by the anthemic refrain of Public Enemy's "Fight the Power," Do the Right Thing is a landmark in American cinema, as politically and emotionally charged and as relevant now as when it first hit the big screen. - Criterion
Find Do the Right Thing via Reelgood
I was criticized because at the end of Do the Right Thing we didn't provide an answer to racism and prejudice. We still don't have the answer 20 years later. And I'll go to my grave not having the answer. - Spike Lee, 2009
I have been given only a few filmgoing experiences in my life to equal the first time I saw Do the Right Thing. Most movies remain up there on the screen. Only a few penetrate your soul. In May of 1989 I walked out of the screening at the Cannes Film Festival with tears in my eyes. Spike Lee had done an almost impossible thing. He'd made a movie about race in America that empathized with all the participants. He didn't draw lines or take sides but simply looked with sadness at one racial flashpoint that stood for many others. - Roger Ebert, 2001
Before Spike Lee's emergence, Hollywood saw few Black filmmakers break through its barriers, and depictions of Black lives in Hollywood were fraught.
The three most important works of early Hollywood all involved damaging, racist characterization and practices: Birth of a Nation, which broke new ground in narrative ambition and cinematic techniques, but was filled with cartoonishly racist imagery and valorized of the Klan; The Jazz Singer (1927) which brought sound into cinema but included a protagonist singing vaudeville songs in Blackface; and Gone with the Wind, which perpetuated the "lost cause" of the South, broke box office records, and marked the first time the Academy awarded an Oscar to an African American, Hattie McDaniel for portraying Scarlett O'Hara's servant, Mammy.
Black filmmakers had to work outside the Hollywood system to create and distribute more authentic films aimed at Black audiences. Between 1915 and 1940, there were several independent Black studios producing what were known as "race pictures," which were shown in theaters in Black neighborhoods throughout the country, even in the north.
Oscar Micheaux was the most prominent trailblazer of the silent film era. Micheaux's Chicago-based film studio created and distributed films that portrayed Black Americans beyond stereotypical confines, and which were marketed directly towards Black audiences.
The Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s brought a modicum of change, with films beginning to explore more nuanced portrayals, albeit within a limited scope. In 1964, Sidney Poitier became the first Black actor to win the Academy Award for Best Actor. By 1967, he was the biggest box office draw in Hollywood, with a trifecta of films (To Sir with Love, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, and In the Heat of the Night) that dealt with racial tensions. At the same time, Poitier chafed at the palatable, sexless character he was typecast as.
The Blaxploitation era of the 1970s marked a significant moment where Black characters took center stage, albeit in formulaic narratives that often emphasized style over substance. Filmmakers Gordon Parks (Shaft) and Melvin Van Peebles (Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song) respectively challenged Hollywood's racial narratives and laid the groundwork for future Black cinema. Black characters were front and center in these narratives, although typically in an exaggerated and flamboyant way. On the completely opposite spectrum, Charles Burnett directed the landmark micro-budget film Killer of Sheep (1977), which was more of a Neorealist Black film.
By the 1980s, a new kind of Blackness took over pop culture and laid the groundwork for Spike Lee's emergence.
Hip hop went mainstream in the mid-1980s, with Run-DMC leading the way. The group had hip hop's first Gold Record (1984's Run-D.M.C.), followed by hip hop's first Platinum Record (1985's King of Rock), and the first multi-platinum hip hop record with Raising Hell in 1986. Their 1986 cover of Aerosmith's Walk this Way reached number 4 on Billboard's Hot 100.
Comedian Eddie Murphy rose a star-making role on Saturday Night Live to feature film stardom, beginning with the hits 48 Hours (1982) and Trading Places (1983). But his first true starring role was Beverly Hills Cop (1984), which grossed $230 million at the box office, making it the highest grossing R-rated film of all time. By the end of the decade, Murphy was Hollywood's highest paid actor.
Mike Tyson dominated the boxing world in almost unprecedented fashion. He was a different kind of champion to Muhummad Ali. Tyson was less eloquent, a warrior, an intimidator. He didn't just win - he obliterated his opponents, winning his first 19 professional fights by knockout, including 12 knockout wins in the first round.
And of course Michael Jordan changed the NBA with his singular style of basketball, his competitiveness, and his brand. The Air Jordan brand changed how shoes and players were marketed, became the biggest selling shoe of all time, and helped Nike dethrone Adidas as the pinnacle of cool.
It was the perfect time for a filmmaker to join the party and bring a new voice to American cinema.
The roots of American independent cinema can be traced back to the late 1940s and 1950s, with filmmakers like Maya Deren and John Cassavetes pioneering a form of cinema that was personal, experimental, and distinctly separate from the Hollywood studio system. This early independent movement laid the groundwork for what was to come, emphasizing creative freedom and personal vision over commercial success.
By the 1970s, a new wave of independent filmmakers began to emerge, buoyed by the success of films like Dennis Hopper's Easy Rider (1969), which demonstrated that films made outside the studio system could achieve both critical acclaim and commercial success. This era also saw the rise of influential independent producers like Roger Corman, who provided a platform for young filmmakers to direct low-budget films that often pushed the boundaries of conventional cinema.
The establishment of the Sundance Institute by Robert Redford in 1981 marked a significant milestone in the evolution of American independent cinema. The Institute's commitment to nurturing independent artists created a vibrant community and a supportive ecosystem that allowed independent cinema to flourish. With the takeover of the US Film and Video Festival in 1984, Sundance quickly became the premier showcase for independent films, attracting filmmakers, industry professionals, and audiences from around the world.
The 1980s and 1990s witnessed an explosion of independent films that challenged traditional narrative structures, explored unique stylistic approaches, and tackled a wide range of subjects. Films like Jim Jarmusch's Stranger Than Paradise (1984) exemplified this trend, with its minimalist style, deadpan humor, and focus on character over plot. Jarmusch's film, along with others like the Coen Brothers' Blood Simple (1984) and Steven Soderbergh's sex, lies, and videotape (1989), signaled the arrival of a new generation of independent filmmakers who were willing to take risks and explore new cinematic territories.
Also in the 1980s, one of Jarmusch's film school classmates, Spike Lee, emerged with his own authorial voice and filmmaking style.
Spike Lee's early career, marked by a fusion of personal experience and artistic innovation, laid the foundation for a groundbreaking journey in cinema. Born in the culturally vibrant heart of Atlanta in 1957 and raised amidst the diverse tapestry of Brooklyn, Lee was steeped in a milieu brimming with artistic expression from a young age. His father, Bill Lee, a renowned jazz musician, imbued in him an appreciation for the rhythms of storytelling, while his mother's love for literature and film nurtured his narrative instincts.
Lee's collegiate journey began at the historically Black Morehouse College, an environment that fostered his burgeoning consciousness of racial and social themes. His pursuit of cinematic storytelling led him to NYU's prestigious Tisch School of the Arts, where he not only honed his craft but also forged pivotal collaborations. It was here that he met Ernest Dickerson, a fellow visionary who would become an indispensable collaborator as his director of photography. Their creative synergy was evident in Lee's thesis film, Joe's Bed-Stuy Barbershop: We Cut Heads (1984), a compelling narrative that explored the complexities of urban life and the moral quandaries within a Brooklyn barbershop. The film's success, culminating in a Student Academy Award, was a testament to Lee's ability to weave socially resonant stories with stylistic flair.
As Lee transitioned from academic accolades to the daunting world of feature filmmaking, he encountered the fiscal realities of cinematic production. An ambitious script for what would later become School Daze was set aside due to budgetary constraints, prompting Lee to conceive a project that was not just impactful but also financially feasible. The financial backing of his grandmother, coupled with grants and contributions from friends and the New York State Council on the Arts, underscored the communal spirit that would become a hallmark of Lee's filmmaking approach.
The inspiration for She's Gotta Have It (1986) emerged from Lee's reflections on gender dynamics and societal expectations. Centering on Nola Darling, a woman who defies conventional norms with her candid, casual approach to relationships, the film was a bold commentary on gender roles and sexual autonomy within the Black community. Lee was inspired to make a film about a woman who treated relationships like his male friends did. Lee paired this fresh, subversive take with innovative narrative techniques, including dutch angles, jump cuts, and characters breaking the fourth wall to directly address the camera.
The casting of She's Gotta Have It reflected Lee's commitment to authenticity and new talent, featuring a cast of then-unknown actors who brought raw energy and depth to the film. Lee's own portrayal of Mars Blackmon, infused with a distinctive Brooklyn swagger, became an iconic character in its own right.
Upon its debut at Cannes, She's Gotta Have It not only captivated audiences but also ignited discussions around its provocative themes. Its commercial success in the United States, where it grossed an impressive $8 million, shattered the notion that films centered on the African-American experience were niche or limited in appeal. The film's encounter with the MPAA over its sexual content, and Lee's subsequent edits to avoid an X rating, underscored the challenges and compromises inherent in bringing bold storytelling to a wider audience.
In essence, Spike Lee's early career was a blend of artistic audacity, cultural introspection, and an unyielding drive to tell stories that resonated with truth and complexity. She's Gotta Have It was not merely a film; it was a declaration of Lee's unique voice in cinema, one that would continue to challenge, entertain, and inspire.
He was suddenly in high demand, and spent the next year working on his follow-up as well as filming music videos for some of the biggest African American stars, and making connections for future collaborations.
Like Chantal Akerman's emphasis on hiring women for most behind-the-scenes roles, Lee hired majority African American crews for his films. He bought a building in Brooklyn to house his production company, 40 Acres and a Mule, named for the post-Civil War promise of a modest reparation for slaves, which never came to fruition. He also publicly admonished stars like Eddie Murphy who didn't use their stardom and their political capital to create opportunities for other Black artists.
Lee's next film was School Daze (1988), his first film for a major studio. School Daze is an ambitious musical about tensions between light-skinned and dark-skinned students at an HBCU during homecoming. It was another hit, earning $14.5 million at the box office, and Columbia Pictures' most profitable film of the year.
But his greater triumph at that time was a series of ads for Nike and the Air Jordan brand, starring Lee as Mars Blackmon alongside Michael Jordan, filmed in the black and white style of She's Gotta Have It. Lee's Blackmon gave the world the iconic line "It's gotta be the shoes," and according to Phil Knight, revived the Air Jordan brand.
Critics were divided over Lee at the time. His films were innovative but technically flawed and at times mixed brilliance with juvenile humor. Lee himself was a lightning rod; brash and unapologetically Black. He was entrepreneurial and confident, making frequent appearances on television to promote his films, and when doing so never missed a chance to opine about politics. His films were making money, but he was best known at the time for his acting and his public persona. People were telling Lee he was a genius; he needed to prove it.
The world wasn't ready for Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing.
Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing erupted onto the cinematic landscape like a force of nature, offering a raw, unvarnished look into the microcosm of a single street in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. On the surface, the film presents a day in the life of its inhabitants, simmering with racial tensions on an oppressively hot summer day, but beneath, it's a profound examination of the societal pressures ready to explode.
Drawing from real-life events and the unsettling trend of violence spiking on the hottest days, Lee's narrative was informed by the racially charged atmosphere of 1980s New York City under Mayor Ed Koch. The era was marked by several high-profile racial incidents, including the wrongful accusation of the Central Park Five, the Tawana Brawley case, and the tragic death of Michael Griffith at the hands of a mob in Howard Beach. These events seep into the film's fabric, providing a backdrop of palpable tension and injustice.
At the heart of the film is Mookie (played by Lee himself), a pizza delivery man for Sal's Pizzeria, owned by Italian-American Sal (Danny Aiello). Mookie's journey through the day, interacting with a spectrum of neighborhood characters, lays the groundwork for the film's exploration of racial dynamics, community, and the quest for identity and respect. Not a lot happens in terms of the events that drive forward the plot, but the film is bursting with scenes of life that are masterfully staged and acted.
Lee's use of an ensemble cast, including Giancarlo Esposito, Martin Lawrence, Rosie Perez, Bill Nunn, John Turturro, Ossie Davis, and Ruby Dee, creates a rich tapestry of perspectives, each adding depth to the portrayal of a community on the brink. Pino (Turturro), Sal's son, embodies the festering racism that threatens to undermine the fragile peace, his antagonism towards his brother Vito and Mookie serving as a catalyst for the unfolding drama.
The film masterfully navigates its themes through direct confrontations and more subtle interactions. One of its most striking moments is a heated dialogue between Mookie and Pino, where Mookie challenges Pino's racism by highlighting his admiration for African American celebrities, juxtaposed against the exclusively Italian-American 'wall of fame' in Sal's pizzeria. This sequence, along with a powerful moment where characters of different races hurl racial slurs directly at the camera, underscores the pervasiveness of bigotry, each delivering a jarring, unfiltered reflection of prejudice.
Lee concludes that sequence with the radio deejay Mister Senor Love Daddy (Samual L. Jackson) calling timeout and telling everyone they need to cool off. Jackson's character is like a Greek chorus and the conscience of the film. His words of caution are for us as well as the characters.
Amidst these tensions, the film bursts with vibrancy and life, starting with the opening credits with Rosie Perez dancing fiercely to Public Enemy's "Fight the Power." The song, interwoven throughout the film via Radio Raheem's boombox, becomes an anthem of defiance and resistance, echoing the community's simmering frustrations.
Despite the film's undercurrents of anger and injustice, Lee infuses the narrative with moments of joy, humor, and humanity, creating a balanced portrayal of a community that, despite its flaws, is vibrantly alive.
The film's climax is a harrowing sequence of police brutality followed by a riot that sees the destruction of Sal's Pizzeria. Lee provocatively questions the audience's moral compass, challenging viewers to confront their own biases.
In twenty years since the film came out, no Black person ever asked me why Mookie threw the garbage can through the window. Only White people ask that question. - Spike Lee, 2009
Audiences and critics tend to fixate on the question of whether Mookie, the protagonist, does the right thing. It's the wrong question. That question lets everyone else off the hook. Nobody does the right thing.
And by fixating on the riot, the audience is implicated in one of the classic American hypocrisies: being more outraged by the destruction of property than the murder of a young Black man.
When Do the Right Thing premiered at Cannes, it became the center of intense debate, with some critics fearing it could incite violence. Yet, Lee astutely observed that such concerns often reflected the critics' own prejudices. After all, nobody worried about white audiences becoming violent after watching an Arnold Schwarzenegger action film.
Roger Ebert, one of the film's staunchest advocates, praised its unflinching honesty and its ability to provoke necessary dialogue about race in America. His defense against accusations that the film could incite riots underscored a profound understanding of its true message: a call for empathy, understanding, and, ultimately, justice.
The film lost the Palme d'Or at Cannes to Steven Soderbergh's sex, lies, and videotape. Soderbergh was as shocked as Lee that Do the Right Thing didn't take home the top prize.
Do the Right Thing was nominated for two Academy Awards, Lee for Best Original Screenplay and Aiello for Best Supporting Actor. The major prizes that year went to the more palatable racial narrative of Driving Miss Daisy. It's widely considered one of the biggest snubs in Oscars history.
In 2022, the film was ranked #24 on Sight and Sound's Critics Poll of the greatest films ever made.
Since its explosive debut in 1989, "Do the Right Thing" has not only cemented its place as a cornerstone of American cinema but has also left an indelible mark on the landscape of filmmaking, influencing generations of storytellers and artists.
The film's legacy extends far beyond its initial release, influencing countless filmmakers and becoming a cornerstone in the study of race and cinema. Its inclusion in the National Film Registry and consistent ranking among the greatest films of all time attest to its enduring impact.
Spike Lee's masterpiece has influenced a broad spectrum of directors, from the likes of John Singleton, who cited Lee as a pivotal influence in his own exploration of urban African-American experiences in Boyz n the Hood, to Ava DuVernay (13th, Selma), whose directorial works continue to probe social and racial themes with depth and nuance.
The film's impact extends beyond its thematic exploration, with its innovative use of music, color, and narrative structure inspiring filmmakers to experiment with their own creative expressions.
Following the critical and commercial success of Do the Right Thing, Spike Lee's career trajectory has been marked by a diverse array of films that continue to challenge, entertain, and provoke thought. From the biographical epic Malcolm X (1992) to the haunting narrative of 25th Hour (2002), to the innovative thriller Inside Man (2006), and the satirical brilliance of BlacKkKlansman (2018), Lee has remained a formidable force in cinema. His commitment to exploring social and political themes, coupled with his unique narrative voice, has garnered him numerous accolades, including an Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay for BlacKkKlansman.
Spike Lee's legacy extends beyond his filmography. As a vocal advocate for social justice and a trailblazer in the industry, Lee has paved the way for future generations of filmmakers. His role as a professor and mentor at NYU's Tisch School of the Arts underscores his commitment to nurturing emerging talent, ensuring that the voices of the future continue to be as diverse and dynamic as the stories they seek to tell.
Since Do the Right Thing, Hollywood has seen incremental progress in the representation of Black stories and talent. Initiatives and movements aimed at increasing diversity have brought some change, yet the industry continues to grapple with systemic biases. Look no further than the annual consternation around the Academy Award nominations, which always highlight that pale males continue to receive the majority of resources and accolades in Hollywood.
At the same time, one of Lee's enduring legacies is his rise from DIY independent filmmaking to mainstream Hollywood. Nearly 40 years after She's Gotta Have It, there are now numerous pathways for filmmakers to get started and release their films. Sundance Film Festival is still one of the most relevant venues for breakout filmmakers, but film festivals are just one way. The internet has completely changed the game, removing some of the gatekeepers. Now it's possible for filmmakers to go directly to audiences, although algorithms and consolidation, and short attention spans have presented new challenges.
I've promised we'll dive more into streaming and internet distribution in future weeks, and I'll promise again - it's coming.
The Ending(s): There's a lot going on at the end of the film. There are actually three endings: 1) the murder and riot, 2) Mookie's return to Sal's to collect his backpay, and 3) the final quotes - one by Martin Luther King and one by Malcolm X. This is a complex film with a lot of ideas, and it offers no easy solutions or recommendations. Does Mookie do the right thing? Nobody does the right thing - nobody intervenes to save a man's life.
Color Palette and Cinematography: Spike Lee and cinematographer Ernest Dickerson employed an expressive color palette to amplify the film's thematic intensity. Pay attention to how reds and oranges are used to enhance the feeling of heat and tension, reflecting the simmering racial and social conflicts. The vibrant colors of the characters' clothing and the environment also contribute to the film's mood, character development, and sense of place.
Character Ensemble and Dynamics: The film features a diverse cast of characters, each bringing a unique perspective to the narrative. From Mookie's conflicted loyalties to Sal's paternalistic pride in his pizzeria, and Radio Raheem's symbolic presence, each character adds a layer to the film's exploration of community and identity. Notice how their interactions and conflicts serve as microcosms for broader societal issues.
Music and Sound Design: Public Enemy's Fight the Power serves as both a thematic anchor and a character in its own right. The soundtrack and sound design are meticulously crafted to underscore the narrative's emotional beats and the community's cultural landscape. Listen closely to how music and ambient sounds are used to enhance the storytelling and convey the characters' inner states.
Dialogue and Monologues: Lee's script is rich with snappy, meaningful dialogue and several memorable monologues that reveal deeper insights into the characters' worldviews and personal philosophies. Pay attention to the exchanges between characters, particularly those that challenge or reveal biases, as they are crucial in understanding the film's commentary on race, power, and community.
Symbolism and Motifs: Do the Right Thing is laden with symbols and motifs that enrich its narrative. From the ever-present heat as a metaphor for rising tensions to Radio Raheem's Love-Hate rings that echo the film's central themes, these elements serve to deepen the viewer's understanding of the story's complexities. Keep an eye out for recurring images and themes, such as the use of fire and water, which symbolize destruction and cleansing, respectively.
Roger Ebert's 1989 review of Do the Right Thing
Roger Ebert on Do the Right Thing - an essay for The Criterion Collection
Do the Right Thing: Walking in Stereo essay by Vinson Cunningham for The Criterion Collection
David Denby's negative review of Do the Right Thing for New York Magazine in 1989
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