I remember a time, back in high school, when I had to write a book report. I thought I did a great job, I worked on it for a long time, and I felt happy with the end result. The teacher handed the report back to me and told ne I had to redo it. Now, I cannot recall how well my original piece was then (I vaguely remember citing specific examples from the text and trying hard to write a proper report, as opposed to a plot summary, but maybe it wasn’t good), but I can tell you what happened next. I felt that I had already put enough time and effort into something I had to completely rewrite. I decided to multi-task during my lunch break, delivering a page or so of what I considered to be absolute twaddle, phrases that my friends and I were laughing about as I wrote them down. That second incarnation of my book report received depressingly positive feedback, and that is when I realised that you sometimes need to write what people are expecting from you, rather than your absolute truth. It may have also started me on the path away from academia, and the conformity required until you make a unique impact that cannot be ignored.
While this may not seem connected to American Fiction, it really is. This is the tale of a black American writer (Thelonious “Monk” Ellison, played by Jeffrey Wright) who finds himself struggling to sell books in a market that he doesn’t want to be a part of. Resenting the label of “black literature”, with the stereotypes and “trauma porn” often contained within it, Monk seems destined to maintain his integrity at the expense of any major sales opportunities. Until he plays a big hole on everyone, writing a novel full of the kind of garbage that he hates to read, and using the pseudonym Stagg R. Leigh. It is, of course, a huge success, and it just gets more and more praise as Monk tries to make it, and his character, more and more like the content he is mocking.
Based on a book, “Erasure”, by Percival Everett, this is a hell of a directorial debut from Cord Jefferson, who also adapted the source material into screenplay form. Picking at the frayed strands that have been woven together over centuries to make the mixed and vibrant quilt of the USA, nobody here is looking to offer easy answers to things like racial profiling, white guilt, the intersection of art and commerce, and the permission to use the lives of others as inspiration for creative endeavours, among other topics broached. But sometimes you don’t need, and may never get, definitive answers, especially from art. Sometimes it is enough to ask the questions.
Wright is brilliant in a lead role that feels like just the thing he has been long overdue. His character is bitter and acerbic throughout, but he has extra pressures on him, as well as a number of valid points about what he sees going on around him (all underlined by the fact that his joke starts to look like it will be an unstoppable success). There’s a great supporting cast, all holding their own alongside Wright, but other highlights include Sterling K. Brown (a gay sibling working through his feelings in a very different way), Erika Alexander (as Coraline, a potential love interest, but also a reader who has enjoyed previous books written by Monk), John Ortiz (an agent who disapproves of the new book until it gains major traction and sales interest), and Issa Rae (as a successful author, Sintara Golden, who seems to write the exact kind of material that Monk cannot stand). There are also excellent turns from Leslie Uggams (an ailing mother), Myra Lucretia Taylor, Raymond Anthony Thomas, Tracee Ellis Ross, Keith David (basically a cameo, but some Keith David is better than no Keith David), and Adam Brody.
Funny, thought-provoking, moving, and somehow galvanized by the fact that it springboards from a very observable reality all around us, American Fiction is a superb blend of satire and pathos, and I am all the happier if it gives a well-earned boost to the profiles of everyone involved, especially Wright.
8/10
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I can definitely sympathize with his writing situation. I wrote what I thought were some good "normal" books and no one wanted. One got published by a small publisher but even they didn't really seem to care. Then I stumbled into a niche market and sold a pretty decent number of books, albeit still 1/10,000th of what a Stephen King or James Patterson does per day.
ReplyDeleteBut then the problem is you have to keep writing in that niche. I've managed to be creative enough with it that it can still be fun but sometimes it would be nice to do more. I'd like to write something more "literary" but if I do, who's going to read it?
Anyway, I'd be interested in the movie for that.