BLACKBURN AND SWEETZER

I know, I know. Everyone’s talking about Killer of Sheep, Charles Burnett’s 1977 thesis film for his MFA at UCLA, never released because of the astronomical cost of music rights despite prestigious accolades - including a prize at the 1981 Berlin International Film Festival, followed by declaration by the Library of Congress as a national treasure on the National Film Registry. But you can’t see this film and not talk about it. Shot for $10,000 and originally shown on 16mm prints, UCLA Film & TV Archive has restored it sight and sound; the new 35mm print is superb. Distributed by Milestone Films, the film is making its rounds across the country (locally, at the NuWilshire through April 20th), and I urge everyone to go see it. While most of the cast is made up of Burnett’s friends, the leads, Henry Gayle Sanders and Kaycee Moore, are professionals and inspirations in their performances.

Sanders (pictured above) was actually at the theater for a post-film Q&A. One attendee commented on the fact that, though set and filmed in Watts, there are no drugs, violence, or gangs in the film. I was in no way surprised by the comment, but it does amaze me that in 2007 people are still mystified by people of color portrayed as people and individuals, versus caricatures. This is an art film that follows the quiet struggle of a working class family. Here, subtext, beautifully rendered, reigns supreme. Burnett captures those small moments in the daily grind that can be the slow emotional and psychological death of a person. In the arts, brown people are rarely afforded these moments, even though they exist for us, too, everyday. For many of us, we live with the fear of not succeeding or not realizing ourselves or familial tension way more than the fear of drugs, violence, or gangs. Not that those things are not very real, but, hey, look over here and over there, we’re here too.

On a style-related note, I wanted to mention how gorgeous and glamorous Moore (pictured below) is in this film, even in a housecoat. I love the way in which she portrays a wife/mother/woman/sexual being in all its lovely, feminine, strong, and, at times, tortured facets. She dons maxi dresses, a cropped top and wrap skirt, and applies her makeup with studied precision. Her yearning is steeped in every scene - slow dancing with her husband, at the mirror with a swipe of a mascara brush, while watching her daughter from a doorway.