When it comes to filmmaker Ernest Dickerson — who in his directorial debut brought us the iconic urban drama Juice, having more recently found a home on the sets of award winning original series The Walking Dead and Treme (for which he received a 2012 NAACP Image Award, and is nominated this year for Outstanding Director in a Drama Series) — looking forward, looking ahead, is not just hopeful, it is essential. And yet, Mr. Dickerson is also quick to point out that it is not by discarding the past, like an orange rind, that we achieve true beauty and innovation, but by refashioning it in evermore creative and subversive ways.
In a career spanning more than thirty years, in an industry where successful black directors and filmmakers are few and far between, Dickerson now plans to take the lessons he’s learned, having honed his talent as a student of NYU’s Tisch school alongside colleague Spike Lee, over the years solidifying his place as one of Hollywood’s top creative talents, back to his alma mater, Howard University for a week long lecture series from January 28th to February 1st.
There he will talk with young filmmakers about the industry, about film making, and about the creative process.
When asked about what it means to be able to return to Howard and conduct the week-long lecture series, Dickerson was grateful for the opportunity.
“I haven’t been back in a while, but it feels good to be able to offer practical, lived experience to a new generation of talent. I didn’t have that when I was coming up. I wish I’d had that,” he said.
Proud to serve as the example he never had, a testament, in some respects, to the progress that’s been made in the film industry in the last three decades, it’s still clear much hasn’t changed, and that many of the same challenges lie ahead for young black filmmakers today as they did then. When asked about some of those chief challenges, Dickerson is very clear:
“Funding is a problem for all filmmakers, but especially for black film makers, because it is difficult to obtain funding for subject matter that isn’t considered commercial.”
For anyone with an interest in film, who, from time to time emerges from beneath the rock, despite the astronomical inflation of ticket sales, to take a trip to the cinema, (or for those who opt instead to indulge in the occasional binge on Netflix), it is an unsurprising reality that there exists a shortage of examples of well-known black filmmakers, and black films (that got their fair shake at the box office, anyway).
Some of the more recognizable names from the past quarter century that might come to mind (and for the purposes of this article) would likely include Spike Lee, John Singleton, and Mr. Dickerson himself, all of whom in the early 90s helped to herald a new wave of black cinema with films like Malcolm X, Boys in the Hood, Do the Right Thing, School Daze, and Poetic Justice.
However, for those few shining examples of black film that garnered both critical acclaim and popular success, there are other films where the problem of funding and commercial appeal couldn’t be clearer.
Take, for example, Leslie Harris’ Just Another Girl on the IRT. Filmed on a budget of approximately $100,000 in a matter of 17 days, during a time when American theatergoers had a growing appetite for the contemporary urban drama (and an arguably exotic interest in the lives of black people, or urban black men anyway), it would have seemed well poised, but in Harris’ own words was a movie that “Hollywood wouldn’t touch.” And, although it won a Grand Jury Prize at Sundance upon its release, has sense gone largely unsung.
“When I was making Juice I considered it a black film,” said Dickterson. “I had a clear intention that I wanted to make a film noir, one of my favorite genres, where the protagonists were young black men. I like to say that when it comes to making movies, I am interested in old wine in new bottles. Those bottles can be beautiful. It’s about taking something, like the noir genre, but applying new elements of style.”
When asked if he still thought whether there was a place in Hollywood for black cinema, without hesitation: “Yes, there is definitely still a place for black cinema. For instance, we haven’t seen a sci-fi film with black protagonists. That’s one of the newer projects I’m working on, an adaptation of one of Octavia Butler’s novel Clay’s Ark. There is a lot of material out there. I want to see young black filmmakers embrace a range of subjects and genres.”
This could seem like a catch 22 or at least a point of friction – conceiving of black film as an important source of original content, while recognizing the trouble with getting original content produced, but Mr. Dickerson is quick to raise creative solutions,
“What we have on our side is independent film. There are so many innovations and opportunities with the advent of digital cinematography, in some ways it is easier to make a film. There are so many different stories out there. I would like to see black cinema become as diverse as our literature, and for young film makers to endeavor to think outside of the box.”
If good cinema, and good story telling is like a fine wine, then perhaps there is some truth to the maxim that there are only essentially seven stories ever told, and it is the elements of style, the artful craft of the bottle we dress them in that makes the difference. theGrio was interested to know how Dickerson crafted his unique, and beautiful bottles.
“I have always been drawn as a filmmaker to telling stories through visuals. When I read a script, I draw pictures in the margins. It is true that a picture is worth a thousand words.”
He goes on to explain the importance of preparation to the film-making process, and using story boards to tell a cohesive story that could essentially tell itself, if necessary, without sound. This idea has a poetic resonance, the power of film to give voice — taking up Juice once again as a titular example — to that which is otherwise ineffable, like the nuances of culture, of hip-hop, of daily life. How often, for example, has one struggled to explain the black experience to an insensible person or crowd? It is the power of film to show rather then tell.
Apropos of films with black themes and characters, it seemed impossible not to ask Dickerson his thoughts on Quentin Tarantino’s hit revenge thriller, Django Unchained, especially given his friend and colleague Spike Lee’s controversial refusal to see the film on the grounds that it would dishonor his ancestors. On this point he is candid:
“I really enjoyed Django. I’m a fan of the original western. The thing is, is it’s not meant to be a historical drama; it’s a revenge fantasy, old wine new bottles. I think my ancestors would have loved to have seen it. How often do you get that kind of enduring black love story? And, it’s doing what good art always does, it’s inspiring opinion.”
Looking ahead, Mr Dickerson, in addition to his lecture series at Howard has a host of new projects cropping up. On top of his recurring work on all season’s of The Walking Dead — if you aren’t watching, you really should be (I’m told that, if Michonne and Tyreese survive, there are sure to be some surprises in store) — he is also gearing up for the debut of a new pilot recently acquired by AMC, Low Winters Sun. This dark thriller, based on an English drama by the same name — old wine, new bottles — transplants the lead actor from the original series from Edinburgh to the mean streets of Detroit, where two cops get entangled in a murder mystery, full of high stake twists and turns. You can expect it likely in 2014.
For the silver screen, in addition to attempting to bring Octavia Butler’s novel to life, Mr. Dickerson hints at a horror story he’s also working to get produced.
What is black cinema? One could argue original content, innovative film-making and black cinema are actually synonymous. Maybe things have changed significantly for black film makers and theatergoers — maybe not much.
What is certain, and to take a page out of Ernest Dickerson’s well-worn and wise notebook, “creation is a patient search.” One can only hope that young minds will be inspired and learn from trailblazers like Dickerson, and continue to produce art that transcends their present context, fermenting smooth, full and deep wine that might be bottled and restored for generations to come.
Chase Quinn is a freelance writer, art critic, and budding novelist, who has worked with several leading human rights organizations in the U.S. and the U.K., promoting social and economic justice. Follow Chase on Twitter at @chasebquinn.