For this Black History Month, allow me to entice you away from repeated marathons of Roots, Queenie, and Get Out into the lurid world of blaxploitation.
Growing up in a very pro-black household (wooden hair picks ending in fists and framed photos of Black Jesus and the Tuskegee Airmen and all) with at least one parent who was very into Coffy and Menace II Society, I didn’t get the idea that these movies were base or perpetuating stereotypes. I didn’t even think they were that corny. I just enjoyed watching movies that my parents were excited about. These movies showed my superheroes, featured my music, and reflected the reality of my life a lot more than the respectability narratives of the time.
It wasn’t until I was older and I saw Mandingo for the first time that it dawned on me that blaxploitation genre films might be problematic. After watching the documentary BaadAsssss Cinema, I stepped back into the movies of my childhood with a more critical eye. I had to admit, on the surface at least, blaxploitation was rife with a lot of problems such as misogynoir (misogyny aimed towards black women), language that wasn’t even okay “back then”, and perpetuating white-created stereotypes of black communities. Worst of all, since these movies were aimed at black audiences, the genre ended up pigeonholing a lot of black directors and the studios they worked for as unmarketable to “mainstream” (read: white) audiences.
These things are all true and all valid criticisms, but you know what? I came full circle. As always, with the dearth of positive, diverse portrayals of black and brown folks on film, things like this just don’t help. Or do they? There are blaxploitation films that are just as bad as their Hollywood counterparts and then there are some that are revolutionary. Either side of the fence you fall on, blaxploitation has held clear influence on future urban genre film directors and endless parodies have shaped popular culture. If you’ve ever seen a Chapelle’s Show skit, you know what I mean.
We can junk a few, but not the whole genre. So here are four blaxploitation genre films that shaped my life. Just four? Yes, and surprisingly the list is Shaft– and Tarantino-free!
Blacula (1972, dir. William Crain)
Blacula was the first blaxploitation film to tackle the horror genre and did it the best. Director William Crain uses this vehicle to dissect the legend of Dracula, spinning the popular portrayal of an attractive, tragic anti-hero on its head. Here, Dracula is an ancient racist that benefits from the slave trade. And why not? Capitalism was built on the backs of slaves and Dracula is loaded. He transforms Prince Mamuwalde into a vampire and leaves his lover Luva to die in a tomb, an echo of the destruction of black families in the modern day due to institutional racism.
Critical analysis aside, Blacula would be nothing without the spellbinding performance of William Marshall. William Marshall lends Mamuwalde all the gravitas in his being to craft a sympathetic character tortured by unwanted bloodlust and the tragic memory of his lost love. Blacula was successful enough at the box office to garner a sequel in Scream Blacula Scream which, despite the presence of Pam Grier, just doesn’t hold up. And don’t go bother looking for similarly themed Blackenstein either. The first entry is certainly the most victorious and should be required viewing for every upper level film class. Is that too much? No.
Cotton Comes to Harlem (1970, dir. Ossie Davis)
Cotton Comes to Harlem is a very ’70s detective story about a runaway bale of cotton containing stolen cash and the two Harlem detectives that chase it as it passes from a shady deacon, to a mob boss, and… Redd Foxx.
It feels a little odd to associate Ossie Davis with blaxploitation genre, even if you don’t see the genre as inherently negative. And if Cotton doesn’t quite look like your standard blaxploitative fare, that’s because it’s a very early entry. Almost too early to count, but the elements are there. As expected of an Ossie Davis production there’s some great comedic moments between Gravedigger Jones and Coffin Ed Johnson as they navigate the increasingly ludicrous plot, and a heavy emphasis on social commentary and black empowerment. Seriously, the whole point of the plot is money that was earmarked for a ship to carry black people back to Africa. The sequel, Come Back, Charleston Blue, was not directed by Ossie Davis due to a studio dispute but while not as funny and overtly black as Cotton, is still a pretty decent entry.
Coffy (1973, dir. Jack Hill)
Oh, and speaking of Pam Grier. Pam Grier is an icon. If you don’t hear her name and think “bad-ass thug busting hero” you’re either lying or you just need to hook yourself up with some DVD/VHS rentals and some spare time. I highly recommend Coffy, a favorite in my house and probably the best movie of all time. Okay, I exaggerate, but Coffy ended up making Grier a household name.
After her little sister’s death by drug overdose, the nurse known as Coffy transforms into equal parts Huntress and Bruce Lee to exact her revenge on the streets. And boy does Coffy get her man. Er, men. Even now, it’s so refreshing to watch a black heroine kicking butt and taking names, fighting systemic and institutional corruption. And within a genre that regularly victimized black women and sex work, this is the rare blaxploitation movie that does not condone drug usage and glamorize abusive pimps. Coffy brings down a whole criminal empire without mussing that glorious afro. And if you think Coffy’s revenge is brutal, wait until you watch…
Sugar Hill (1974, dir. Paul Maslansky)
Yes, you read that right – Paul Maslansky, better known as the producer for the Police Academy franchise, made his directorial debut (and so far only director’s credit) in blaxploitation. And it’s a doozy. Did I say Blacula was the best horror blaxploitation film? Sugar Hill definitely gives it some competition.
I didn’t watch Sugar Hill until a bit later in life, since growing up the only Sugar Hill I knew of was the OTHER crime flick starring Wesley Snipes. So upon realizing this was a completely different movie, I asked the experts – my parents, of course – and learned it was worth a watch. And it definitely is. Sugar Hill doesn’t possess the most original plot, but what it lacks in story it more than makes up for in feel-good violence, surreal zombie montages, and accurate depictions of zombies and Haitian voudou practices. But the most praise must be given to Marki Bey as Diana Hill, who is absolutely merciless in her quest for retribution. Sure, Coffy and Cleopatra Jones are pretty bad, but Diana is certainly not messing around either. In any genre Sugar Hill is one of a kind, because if you’re going to have one credit to your name you might as well go out in a blaze of psychedelic glory.