The movie industry has always been stacked against minorities, but Black voices have still been cutting through for over a century. They are valuable not just for the alternate perspectives they have provided to key historical moments, but for empowering those whose stories would have never otherwise been told. Even the notion that one can be educated on racism through films rather than through life is a position of privilege, but cinema is an incredibly effective way to discover experiences outside one’s own. Now is a time for those of us who haven’t shared in them to listen and educate ourselves.
Moonlight (2016)
Barry Jenkins’ 2016 masterpiece paints a gorgeous portrait of Black masculinity, and the vulnerability that often lies beneath the toughness that is often necessary for Black men to adopt. We follow the protagonist Chiron across three stages of his life – child, teenager, adult – and in each act we observe how he gradually learns to repress his sensitivity, ambition, and homosexuality in order to survive. A lesser film would spread itself too thin as it tackles race, gender, sexuality, shame, and crime in its less than two hour run time, but Barry Jenkins passionately imbues it with his own experiences and beliefs so that none of these issues are underdeveloped or tokenistic. Moonlight is also a cinematic landmark in more ways than one. It was the first film with an all-Black cast and LGBTQ+ themes to win the Academy Award for Best Picture, and cinematographer James Laxton’s lighting of Black skin is unlike any film that came before it, allowing it to glow beautifully in darkly lit scenes.
Samson and Delilah (2009)
Warwick Thornton’s 2009 road drama doesn’t shy away from issues that affect rural Indigenous Australian communities including substance abuse, domestic violence, and extreme poverty, but he shades the lives of his characters with lightness through a makeshift rock band, innocent flirting, and a friendly drunk with a love of singing. After First Nations teenagers Samson and Delilah escape their home and hit the road, they are met with cold suspicion and occasionally outright revulsion by the residents of Alice Springs. At one point, Delilah encounters an art dealer selling her grandmother’s traditional Indigenous Australian paintings at a far higher price than she was paid for it, symbolising the exploitative nature of white Australia that separates the First Nations people from their heritage. In its most confronting moments, we see that neither Samson nor Delilah possess the resources to properly help each other when they encounter racism at its worst, but the effort and love they put into their blossoming relationship is more than they get from anyone else.
Do the Right Thing (1989)
The film that solidified Spike Lee as one of the greatest American filmmakers of the twentieth century has remained remarkably relevant ever since its release. Do the Right Thing immerses its audience in the day of a Brooklyn neighbourhood, letting us watch racial tensions simmer, before finally exploding in a devastating climax. There’s a cycle of anger that drives the story forward, and the authorities we expect to control the chaos only perpetuate it. Though there is a time to make peace, anger also serves a purpose in addressing injustice. So when we are told to do the right thing, what does that even mean? To fight the power, or push for pacifism? It could be either, or it could be neither. Spike Lee knows it’s never that simple.
Killer of Sheep (1978)
The LA Rebellion was a movement in the late twentieth century that saw a new generation of Black filmmakers create cinema that specifically reflected their experiences, beliefs, and culture. The most acclaimed movie to emerge from this was Killer of Sheep, which was produced, written, directed, shot, and edited by African American film student Charles Burnett. It depicts the culture of Black men, women, and children living in Los Angeles in the 1970’s, juxtaposing scenes of everyday life with the brutal slaughter of sheep committed by our protagonist Stan who works at the local abattoir. As the film progresses, we realise that there is little narrative arc for Stan or anyone in his community, driving home the hopeless ennui of life in the ghetto. But Burnett also starts to draw parallels between this working-class community and the slaughterhouse, both environments where the helpless are stripped of their dignity, rights, and means to survive.
Within Our Gates (1920)
The oldest known surviving film by an African American director offers a valuable perspective on the Jim Crow laws of early twentieth century America. The story follows Sylvia, an African American woman from the Deep South who travels to the North to raise money for a school for poor Black children. Within Our Gates is remarkable for its early use of non-linear narrative in cinema, its consideration of complex racial issues such as the pressure to be accepted by white communities, and its unflinching depiction of white supremacy and lynching in an era where films like The Birth of a Nation single-handedly led to the revival of the Ku Klux Klan.
13th (2016)
The 13th Amendment of the United States Constitution abolished slavery, except as punishment for crime. In this documentary, Ava DuVernay explores how this amendment enabled the arrest of freedmen, forcing them to return to work for the state, and the continued attacks on minority groups by the government all throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. She reframes the war on drugs as an effort that unfairly targeted lower-class Black communities, examines the corporatisation of the prison-industrial complex, and the mass incarceration of African American people that has persisted through all of this. 13th often feels epic in its scope, but DuVernay ties together 150 years of American history to reveal how the nation arrived at the ugly form of institutionalised racism we see today.
Sweet Country (2017)
Warwick Thornton effortlessly transposes the American Western onto the Australian outback in Sweet Country, setting the film in the aftermath of World War I and illustrating how the conflict perpetuated violently racist attitudes in its veterans. Indigenous workers were used to cultivate the land and build the country, yet the fact the only work they could find was under the employment of white men meant that they never got credit for their efforts. The film follows Indigenous farmhand Sam as he goes on the run after killing the man responsible for his wife’s rape. The police officers after him are bloodthirsty, outraged that a Black man would commit such an act against a white man, but they find themselves to be no match for the hostile outback. Sweet Country addresses the historical injustices committed against Indigenous Australians, and in doing so it provides a window into the injustices that are still committed today.
