In the wake of America’s great racial and equity reckoning over the past decade, one conversation that has arisen amongst minority and underrepresented groups as a result is, who gets tell our stories and become elevated as the “voice” of our identity groups? The issue of what constitutes “authentic” representation, particularly for minority groups such as Black Americans, can be contentious and heated. Who decides? What is taken into consideration, just the in-group perspective or the world writ large? It’s a complicated conversation ripe for exploration and writer Cord Jefferson makes his debut behind the camera after successful stints in HBO’s Watchmen and Netflix’s Master of None to do just that.
Based on the novel Erasure, American Fiction follows Monk (Jeffrey Wright), a black writer who’s become fed up with the expectation that his material has to fit certain stereotypical tropes expected from black writers that are all the rage at the moment in the book publishing industry. Frustrated, he comes up with a false pen name and persona to write an outlandish “Black” book about the streets…only for the book and fake author to become the talk of the literary world. Monk must now try to navigate his new secret success with family challenges that arise simultaneously.
The Producers and 1987’s Hollywood Shuffle are two landmark comedies and satirical films that have deservedly attained their lofty status in the annals of film. Comparing a newly released film to these giants is an admittedly daring stance to take, but for American Fiction, it is a deserving comparison and one that is simply the most apt description for Jefferson’s creation. The film uses Monk’s experience in attempting to navigate the book publishing world during an era of evolving expectations for black writers to provide biting commentary on how racial stereotyping can lead to pigeonholing and how harmful perceived liberal benevolence and allyship can be in practice. As is the case with any good satire, the plausibility of the absurdity put to screen is what sells it and Monk’s Producers-esque creation of Stagger Lee is uproariously funny due to how it mirrors the elevation of certain archetypes in our own media landscape and how the reactions of those inhabiting American Fiction’s fictitious world parallel the behaviors of those around us. Monk’s frustrations with the world’s inability to view him and his skill set outside of what is expected from someone who looks like him are relatable not just to black audience members, but anyone who has every been put into a box due to their inherent characteristic which are out of control. This combination of both turning the camera inward toward audience members for personal relatability at being underestimated and turning the camera outward toward the world surrounding us and critiquing the current zeitgeist as it relates to racial and socioeconomic issues allows American Fiction to hit the sweet spot for satire that can make everyone feel included, but also offers substantive social commentary.
Offering a satirical examination of a touchy subject such as race relations and current politics is an endeavor that can go awry just as easily as it went fantastic for this film due to the prospect of hitting a sacred cow or belief system which many may hold dear. Just as impressive as American Fiction’s send-up of the current cultural landscape is the inclusion of an alternative argument to its main character’s sentiment and feelings about who and what is elevated within his community. In a pivotal scene where Monk finally has an opportunity to have a discussion with author Sintara Golden (Issa Rae), whose ascension in the literary world after penning a book written in the first person about a young woman from the ghetto complete with exaggerated African American Vernacular English is established as the antithesis of Monk’s mission, Golden gives an impassioned speech defending the other perspective on representation. She argues that her book is based on real people from real environments whose experiences and culture are worthy of sharing. When Monk counters about how this may represent black people and their image in general, she says that the weight he chooses to put on the negative opinions of white people and other non-black groups is the true issue and shouldn’t factor into how black people choose to behave and represent themselves. It’s a fictional conversation pulled from real-life debates on the topic and a needed counterbalance to the messages of the film that prevents American Fiction from putting its thumb on the scale, presenting an answer within its narrative, and thus telling the audience what to think. The answer to the issues that the film raises is that there is ultimately no answer, only vantage points which each individual brings to the table. In addition to the power in lampooning the current culture, there is power in forcing an audience to think for itself and American Fiction manages to brilliantly achieve both.
While the film’s satire is endlessly entertaining and extremely topical, American Fiction has more to offer than just hilarious satire with the other half of its narrative focusing on a emotional story of family and themes surrounding coming to terms with one’s identity that ground the film and elevate to perhaps the year’s best. As Monk deals with his existential professional writing crisis, he must also deal with the personal crisis of his mother’s deteriorating health from dementia and his brother’s struggle to ingratiate himself back into the family after years of being the black sheep due to their unresolved, complicated relationship with their father and his brother’s coming out as gay. Losing a parent is never easy, but losing one slowly to a gradual disease like dementia or Alzheimer’s can be gut-wrenching, a struggle depicted powerfully by Wright. Brown’s performance Cliff is also stunning with the actor encapsulating a man with unresolved pain who just wishes to connect with his family fully but is held back by a lack of acceptance of who he is. Cliff’s struggle with acceptance serves as the emotional link between Monk’s professional and personal struggle which is the same deal, Monk’s struggle with his identity as a professional, upper class black man and the inability of not just the outside world, but of himself to fully accept how it fits into the larger identity group to which he belongs. Monk’s interactions with Cliff, Golden, and his girlfriend Coraline, played wonderfully by Erika Alexander, all help Monk toward finally reconciling the two.
Although the disparate tones of the satirical half and the family drama half may be jarring for some, this emotional thread works well in tandem with the comical satire to create a well rounded film that leaves quite the impact. American Fiction is, in a word, brilliant, a magnificent achievement for Cord Jefferson made all the more impressive by the fact that it is his debut feature film. From his director’s chair, he guides Jeffrey Wright to perhaps the most impressive performance of his career in an underrated filmography full of great turns. Wright is at once funny and moving as a man trying to make sense of the world and his place in it amidst turmoil. Sterling K. Brown gives a stellar supporting performance alongside Wright, complimenting his arc and the emotionality that comes with it. Leslie Uggams is also a tender figure as Monk’s ailing mother Agnes who is sure to tug at many heartstrings. Erika Alexander is a worthy love interest alongside Wright, serving as a source of stability and light when Monk needs it and eventually as the wake up call he needs as well. American Fiction is satire done right.
Image: Amazon MGM Studios
