Black Dynamite
Blaxploitation films have always been rather interesting to me, namely because they take some of the more abhorrent aspects of stereotyped black culture (such as h0w they’re all drug dealers and pimps) and blend it with some of the more… how should I say this? Not necessarily “admirable” aspects, but definitely some of the more amusing and curious ones. So you’ll have a film about an Africanized criminal underworld, but because it’s the 70s we’re talking about, every crook in this city sports a massive afro, a collection of colourful designer suits, and an affinity for words like “honky” and “turkey.” Sure, these characters might sell cocaine to orphans, but it’s perfectly acceptable because, unlike their modern cognates who have no idea what a belt is and don’t augment English with their own argot so much as destroy it outright, they’re devilishly charismatic and undeniably cool.
Well, in a film, at least. A gangster is a gangster, and while I myself may be more at ease in the face of a calm fellow with an afro than one who shouts while flailing a weapon, it doesn’t change the fact that, in real life, I’d probably leave the situation with a few bullet holes. Yet as romanticized characters worthy of empathy and admiration, the man who courts coolness as if it were a trivial accessory is far and away a more endearing creation than the one who courts it in seeming desperation for peer approval. It’s hard to imagine a brotha’ in a fuzzy felt hat deeming it necessary to prove his worth by jacking a few cars, yet that ugly background image is par for the course when it comes to the brotha’ with gold teeth and an aggressive swagger.
“Can you dig it?”
Having said all that, the best way to think of Black Dynamite is as a vulgar Shaft. All the classic blaxploitation trappings are here, from funk and soul vamps to a slick ebony and gold gloss, yet it presents itself far too aggressively, as if it were trying with all its might to impress. The ostensible reason for this is that it’s not exclusively a blaxploitation throwback, but rather a blaxploitation parody, and is worse off for it. Simply put, satirizing a genre that in itself was never terribly serious and arguably all too well aware of its inherent silliness just doesn’t work.
This isn’t to say that Black Dynamite fails outright. It’s drenched in genre fidelity and visual panache, and from time to time even manages to evoke truly the sort of cool it’s trying terribly hard to execute. But throughout the entire film, I was far more interested in watching its inspirations (Shaft, Superfly, etc.) than watching what comes next. Part of this has to do with its woefully underdeveloped story – even by blaxploitation standards – but it’s mostly to do with the schizophrenic, jerky nature of parody, which more often advertises interest in the films it satirizes than interest in itself.
Black Dynamite is less than 90 minutes long, yet still overstays its welcome regardless of such brevity. The satiric novelty of a novelty genre wears thin after 20 minutes when it’s revealed that there is no narrative structure beyond thin excuses to string tired gags and brawls together, and the jokes themselves are bland and extraneous. Without a story both to keep the affair moving and to make the entire experience worthwhile, Black Dynamite merely fizzles when it should’ve been explosive.
Note: Black Dynamite was released in theatres in October 2009, in home release in February 2010, and is now on the Movie Network, which is how I watched it.
OMG, I used to love watching old blaxploitation movies on TV at like three in the morning when I was in university. It sucks that this movie didn’t turn out good, but I can’t say I’m surprised. I’m glad you watched it at home, because I had been picturing you as the only white person in the theatre at STC.
My favourite blaxploitation parody of all time is from the adult cartoon Venture Bros:
Jefferson: Yes, I only hunt Blackulas.
Fish Creature: Oh, so you only hunt African-American vampires.
Jefferson: No, sometimes I hunt British vampires. They don’t have African-Americans in England.
Fish Creature: Oh yeah. Yeah, good point.
Jefferson: So I hunt Blackulas.
Fish Creature: I was just trying to be…
Jefferson: Man I specialize in hunting black vampires, I don’t what the PC name for that is.
“Gyorkus is a bad mutha…”
“Shut yo’ mouth!”
Ah, this actually reminds me of the Tim Burton film version of Mars Attacks! from 1996. A decent movie, but ultimately the same issue described here. Namely, it’s spoofing something that was never very serious and already pretty funny to begin with. I appreciate movies like this for their humorous qualities, but I always wondered if said humour was intentional or not. I think they were actually supposed to be taken seriously back in the day, but they’re just so ridiculous that I can’t see them as anything other than pure popcorn.