And yet, you can’t judge a documentary series by its intent alone. Simien assembles an impressive roster of experts (academics, stars, directors and producers) to talk about Hollywood history from a black perspective. His thesis is sound – black people are essential to Hollywood’s existence – and the joy he brings to the subject is genuine. But it never feels like there’s enough substance to match his enthusiasm.
The abbreviated length of Hollywood Black often betrays its noble intentions. Take the first hour, for example, which attempts to cram over sixty years of black film history into less than an hour, simplifying the chronology of early black filmmaking into a more manageable timeline. A pioneer like Nina Mae McKinney is not mentioned, while Josephine Baker is only mentioned in passing (the docuseries instead focuses on Fredi Washington, an equally important figure). At one point, Issa Rae claims that no other black director has produced and directed films other than Oscar Micheaux. This blanket statement ignores creators like Richard D. Maurice and the brothers Noble and George Johnson.
There is tension right from the first episode. While scholars like Racquel Gates, Jacqueline Stewart and Bogle provide in-depth context, the celebrity commentators, armed with some basic historical knowledge, reduce the past to general, generic observations. This tension is typical of Simien’s attempt to balance the docuseries’ research component with accessibility, the latter decided by highlighting the celebrity participants.
Although the docuseries features many black female directors as commentators: Ava DuVernay, Gina Prince-Bythewood, Cheryl Dunye, Melina Matsoukas, Lena Waithe, and others – there is hardly enough actual screen time for films by black women. How can you make a documentary about black female filmmakers without including Kathleen Collins? Aside from “The Watermelon Woman” and “Daughters of the Dust,” when the series mentions black female directors, it is primarily those working in Hollywood. While this decision is understandable to a point – after all, the series is called “Hollywood Black” – it erases core pieces of black film history. Contemporary black female directors are barely represented – the same goes for creatives like Ayoka Chenzira, Cauleen Smith, Zeinabu Irene Davis, and others.
Again, Simien had limited time, and trying to cover everything in its entirety is almost a futile exercise. And yet, what was cut for time is revealing. Ultimately, Hollywood Black is a history lesson from a male perspective, with only a few digressions into the contributions of black women.
There’s so much missing from “Hollywood Black” that it almost blinds you to the wealth of history it contains. Very few mainstream documentaries, for example, have attempted to contextualize blackface and the practice of minstrelsy. The genius of Bert Williams is noted. The little-known, unreleased silent film “Lime Kiln Field Day” (1913), starring Williams, is put in its proper context, as the oldest film still in existence with a black cast (it’s currently streaming on Criterion Channel). Charles Lane, the director of “Sidewalk Stories,” is also given the spotlight. And while it’s encouraging to see Bill Greaves’ boundary-pushing mockumentary “Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take One” mentioned, the conversation between Simien and DuVernay, in which Simien gives his own strange take on Greaves’ film, can be painful to watch, if only because the critique doesn’t seem well thought out.
