A Wrinkle in Time received mixed reviews
A Wrinkle in Time was a must-see film for me. And, a must-see flick worldly different from dashing out to see Black Panther. It doesn’t mean, however, Ava Duvernay’s $100 million dollar film with a multicultural cast isn’t without problems. It is. Which is one of the reasons the film has received mixed reviews unlike Black Panther’s ongoing and wildly enthusiastic critical appraise.
It is wrong to expect from Duvernay what was achieved by Ryan Coogler in his blockbuster hit because they are both African American film directors. Moviegoers have never experienced back-to-back films with black actors as leads. The critiques about Duvernay’s interpretation of Madeleine L’Engle’s 1962 classic is not unwarranted. What is unjustified, is the racist critiques about using a young black female actress to depict a universal theme about the messy complications, frustrations, and uncertainty about girlhood.
“Teenage Meg Murry and her mother, both white, like the rest of their family in the 1962 A Wrinkle in Time novel, are portrayed in this film version by black actresses Storm Reid and Gugu Mbatha-Raw. Dad is played by Caucasian Chris Pine,” said movie critic James Dawson in The Federalist. “Twin brothers from the book are missing entirely from the movie, which may be a blessing, considering that political correctness probably would have dictated they be played by a Native American dwarf and a disabled transsexual.”
Dawson is operating out of the tendentious belief, still regrettably heard by many today, that only white actors should portray Shakespearean characters. That is, unless, of course, it’s Othello, the Moor of Venice since blackface is now no longer in fashion. These same bigots are outraged by black-cast adaptations of The Wiz (1978), Magnolia (2012) and Annie, Steel (2014).
Black Panther, and A Wrinkle in Time, are shockingly confusing to many white moviegoers
The hashtag #OscarsSoWhite emerged out of the glaring absence of people of color. Outside of urban or comedic or hyper sexualized racial stereotypes, a meaningful portrayal of African Americans in films is more an anomaly than the norm found in white films. Today’s modernized versions of coons, thugs, mammies, and maids are expected roles of African American actors. Black Panther, a seismic surprise, and A Wrinkle in Time, are shockingly confusing to white moviegoers like Dawson.
Black little girls of my era weren’t seen on television. Before my era, watching old black and white films of the cherubic child star of the 1930’s, Shirley Temple, only reminded me I could never be America’s little darling. Temple’s moments with the great African American tap-dancer Bill “Bojangles” Robinson in four musicals only cemented that feeling for me. Back then, cute, precocious, tap dancing “little black girls” could never be in step with the only accepted image of girlhood.
“I grew up in an era where there was absolutely zero, minus, images” of girls like her (Storm Reid) in pop culture,” Oprah said in an interview with NBC News. Oprah is Mrs. Which in A Wrinkle in Time. So I do imagine, to be a brown-skinned girl of any race throughout the world, looking up on that screen and seeing Storm, I think that is a capital A, capital W, E, some, AWESOME, experience,” Oprah added by phone. “I think this is going to be a wondrous marvel of experience for girls that in the future they will just take for granted.”
Film critic Aramide A. Tinubu depicts DuVernay’s adaptation of A Wrinkle in Time as a love letter to black girls. DuVernay depicts A Wrinkle In Time as a “black woman-fied” film. It is not only a black woman-fied love letter — but it is a shout out.
It says, “I see you Oprah. I see you Irene. I see you all with all your messy and wonderful selves.”
African American female portrayal in films as children, or as adults, are usually one-sided. They are painfully dehumanizing to watch.
In 2010, the actress and comedian Mo’Nique captured the gold statue for best-supporting actress in the movie Precious, based on the novel Push by Sapphire. In the movie, as a ghetto welfare mom, she demeans and demoralizes her child every chance she can.
A tsunami of racist tweets
Writer-director Dee Rees’s 2011 semi-autobiographical coming-of-age drama Pariah depicted a religious and mean homophobic mother. And, in 2012, Amandla Stenberg portrayed the character Rue in the blockbuster film The Hunger Games. The film script followed the book closely, unlike Dawson’s complaint about A Wrinkle in Time. Nonetheless, some fans were apoplectic. Sadly, the result was a tweeting tsunami of racist comments focusing on the presence of the few black characters in the film, especially of Rue:
“why does Rue have to be black not gonna lie kinda ruined the movie.”
“Kk call me racist but when I found out Rue was black her death wasn’t as sad.”
“why did the producer make all the good characters black.”
“Awkward moment when Rue is some black girl and not the little blonde innocent girl you pictured.”
Little black girls in strong starring roles now counting Storm Reid’s Meg in A Wrinkle of Time” is the fourth. The others are: Zelda Harris as Troy in Crooklyn (1994), Jurnee Smollett as Eve Batiste in Eve’s Bayou (1997), and Quvenzhané Wallis as Annie Bennett in Annie (2014).
Little black girls are in the shadow of this racialized political moment of police brutality, school shootings — and the Me, Too Movement.
A Wrinkle in Time was my must-see film, because it is the only time of late, I see young Irene’s — and little black girls’ — struggle depicted.