African-Americans need to make their own movies: Column

One of my all-time favorite James Brown tunes (and there are a lot of them on my mobile device's playlist) is "I Feel Good." It's hard for me to feel that way about the new film based on the life of the legendary entertainer and, yes, civil rights icon.

Again Hollywood has attempted to give insight into the African-American experience, which is welcome, but again it didn't go far enough. The film's authenticity could have been greatly improved by simply adding more black voices to its creative team. Of four producers, including Mick Jagger, not a single one was African-American. Nor were any black writers involved, and it looks like Spike Lee was consulted only briefly.

I'm not disputing whether non-blacks can write believable scripts about African-Americans. Obviously, they can. Indeed, Chadwick Boseman, who also starred in 42, which told the story of baseball legend Jackie Robinson, is likely to get a well deserved Oscar nomination for his portrayal of Brown.

The Help , which purported to tell the up-close story of black maids in the South during the 1960s, also won high honors, including an Oscar for Octavia Spencer, an African-American actress. But as someone who grew up overhearing conversations involving grown folks like my mother, grandmother and others who not only cleaned the homes of white people, but raised their children, let's just say The Help didn't develop the black characters deeply enough.

Interestingly, both films were adapted to the screen by Tate Taylor, who obviously needs to widen his circle of friends and professional associates if he plans to continue telling stories about black people. Gregory Allen Howard, who wrote a piece, "The whitewashing of James Brown," for Huffington Post, nailed it: "If someone decided to do the Gloria Steinem story, you better believe women would be involved; they'd have to be."

Carvin Eison, a local African-American filmmaker, called the lack of black participation in the developmental stages of the Brown movie, "insane."

It must be conceded, however, that film financiers, for the most part, don't make movies for altruistic purposes. They do it to make money. Lots of it. Raising capital may have been a huge problem for African-Americans not so long ago, but today there are more wealthy black people than ever. In fact, the August issue of Ebony magazine is devoted to black wealth.

The NBA's LeBron James, for instance, is practically worth the GNP of Ohio. Even pro athletes earning comparatively meager salaries of less than $1 million a year could pool their resources to create funds that can help finance film projects.

If they did, maybe the opening scene in the Brown movie wouldn't have had a wild-eyed "Godfather of Soul" on a rant with a shotgun. Blacks on the creative team might have not only stressed Brown's entertainment skills and quirky personality, but his conservative politics, and the messages he sent fellow African-Americans through his music. He had hits such as "Say it Loud, I'm Black and I'm Proud," "Don't Be a Dropout," and "I Don't Want Nobody Giving Me Nothing (Open Up the Door and I'll Get It Myself)."

And who knows, maybe some of the entertainers who make millions filling the heads of their fans with lyrics about misogyny, mayhem and materialism might have had an awakening?

Such nuances, provided by people who understood their gravity, would have gone far to show the complexities of the man from Augusta, Georgia, and make a good movie, much better.

James F. Lawrence is editorial pageeditor of the Democrat and Chronicle Media Group where this column first appeared.

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