“No black man has accomplished what the American mafia hasn’t in a 100 years!”
The white guy who yells this in the movie’s preview was the reason I went to see American Gangster - to learn about the black man who sold more drugs, killed more efficiently and controlled the streets of New York City better than the Italian Mafia. But why? Later I would realize that the previews sold me and I am sure countless other future viewers with the promise of learning about a glorified black drug dealer. Walking into the theater, I was excited to watch a film about one of Harlem’s sons, a black entrepreneur who lived the American Dream, rather than a film about its most notorious dope supplier. Although the film did not glorify Frank Lucas the way I had assumed it would, what drove me to pay the $11.25 for the ticket is troublesome: an urge to see a glorified black American drug dealer beat “the system”, even if it meant pumping his own community with drugs that would soon destroy it. The unsettling part is that I know I am not alone. I can imagine young inner city kids walking out of the theater idolizing Frank Lucas, crowning him “real” and maybe even wondering what it’s like to be like him. Now this does not mean that I would rather the film not have been made. I would love to see similar movies about famous black criminals and crime bosses the same way moviegoers adore the Godfather Trilogy, Casino, Goodfellas and other Italian Mafia movies. My problem is that it took far too much introspection for me to see Frank Lucas for who he really was: a ruthless killer and avaricious heroin dealer who desecrated the bodies of American soldiers killed in Vietnam by having doped shipped back in the caskets of sometimes dead men. Instead, my initial perception of him was not the drug dealer, but the black entrepreneur. Not the killer, but the upholder of justice in his community. Not a virus to America, but its living dream. He was a “real” black man simply because he beat “the system” and accomplished more than the white man, even if it compromised the health and safety of his own people. Thinking back on my initial thoughts and feelings, I learned something: that I am still somewhat brainwashed with the belief that black people will always be victims and therefore should not be held to the same moral standard as others…...
this is a grave misperception.
The white guy who yells this in the movie’s preview was the reason I went to see American Gangster - to learn about the black man who sold more drugs, killed more efficiently and controlled the streets of New York City better than the Italian Mafia. But why? Later I would realize that the previews sold me and I am sure countless other future viewers with the promise of learning about a glorified black drug dealer. Walking into the theater, I was excited to watch a film about one of Harlem’s sons, a black entrepreneur who lived the American Dream, rather than a film about its most notorious dope supplier. Although the film did not glorify Frank Lucas the way I had assumed it would, what drove me to pay the $11.25 for the ticket is troublesome: an urge to see a glorified black American drug dealer beat “the system”, even if it meant pumping his own community with drugs that would soon destroy it. The unsettling part is that I know I am not alone. I can imagine young inner city kids walking out of the theater idolizing Frank Lucas, crowning him “real” and maybe even wondering what it’s like to be like him. Now this does not mean that I would rather the film not have been made. I would love to see similar movies about famous black criminals and crime bosses the same way moviegoers adore the Godfather Trilogy, Casino, Goodfellas and other Italian Mafia movies. My problem is that it took far too much introspection for me to see Frank Lucas for who he really was: a ruthless killer and avaricious heroin dealer who desecrated the bodies of American soldiers killed in Vietnam by having doped shipped back in the caskets of sometimes dead men. Instead, my initial perception of him was not the drug dealer, but the black entrepreneur. Not the killer, but the upholder of justice in his community. Not a virus to America, but its living dream. He was a “real” black man simply because he beat “the system” and accomplished more than the white man, even if it compromised the health and safety of his own people. Thinking back on my initial thoughts and feelings, I learned something: that I am still somewhat brainwashed with the belief that black people will always be victims and therefore should not be held to the same moral standard as others…...
this is a grave misperception.
2 comments:
let me begin by saying that i enjoyed your post. i was immediately captured because while i have not yet seen the movie, i find myself being drawn to it for much the same reasons that you were. and that's saying something for me, because i'm almost positive that the last movie i saw in theater was "a beautiful mind."
however i would like to pose some questions. please feel free to answer or to not answer. i'm simply asking myself the same questions i'm about to extend to you and i'd like to "hear" your thoughts.
you stated: "...I am still somewhat brainwashed with the belief that black people will always be victims..." and upon reading that i wondered...why is that you, that i as a matter of fact, still see black people as victims? is it because they are, because we see them so often victimized, and that is why when a film like "american gangster" comes out, we so desperately want to see it, if only to see the underdog win - just once? or, as your use of the verb "brainwashed" seems to imply, do you think that this whole notion of victimization is simply hype; an idea that has no validity or merit whatsoever?
you go on to say, "...and therefore should not be held to the same moral standard as others…...," do you believe that black people are not currently held to the same moral standards as everyone else? do you believe that we let them off too easy because of this whole notion of victimization --- real or imagined? or does the idea of victimization not even play a role in the question of moral standard?
again, nice post.
A great and timely piece. I asked myself the same question the other day. Why did I want to see this movie about this man that poisoned his community? I could not come up with a reason beyond simple entertainment. When we hear of drug dealers and their activities in real life our initial reaction is to have justice served. We think of the countless people that may have been affected either directly or indirectly and we want this form of terrorism rectified. However, when we see these same actions potrayed in movies or books something changes. I think what changes is the American narrative we are all indoctrinated with.
This country was built very much on circumventing tradition. In film, the idea of the cowboy represents how we view ourselves. We are a people that beat the establishment (the British), tamed a wild land, arose from colony to empire, and did it all our way. Is this idealized, of course. But its still our narrative, whether or not you agree with it. While the more traditional cultures of Europe and the near east tell of classical struggles i.e., man vs. nature, man vs. himself, our contribution is the cowboy and the anti-hero. This was a place where tradition came to die and the power structures of the past could be overcome.
Ignoring that Frank Lucas is a criminal is not unique to American Gangster. We do the same in movies like the Godfather, Goodfellas, and the series The Sopranos. We justify it by saying there is honor among thieves. This is not to say that Italians are more likely to admire crime than African-Americans. It is a reflection of the American myth; the remnants of our own rise to power.
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