Separate but equal? The debate about African American portrayals in television and film has continued since the beginnings of those respective industries in the early to middle 20th century. African Americans complain to "Hollywood" that there are not enough characters in television and films that reflect a diverse society. "Hollywood" responds by throwing a small bone and casting a few actors of color in films to be bucks, coons and nannies until the furor dies down, only to return to business as usual. NAACP threatens boycotts unless "Hollywood" hires more minority "behind the camera" talent. Hollywood responds by hiring a few writers of color to pad the writing staffs of the few minority-theme shows. Those shows, predictably, fair poorly in the Nielsen ratings because Nielsen families (farmers in Idaho) will not watch them. Why should they? They have no more of an interest in watching other cultures in their homes than we would were we in their position. Many Nielsen families have no minority friends or neighbors. Many go through the better parts of their lives without interacting with minorities. Minorities, their cultures, experiences and concerns, are foreign to them and it would be just fine to them if that situation were to remain status quo. Minority-theme shows get cancelled and the writers are no better off than they were before because they are deemed by "Hollywood" to be incapable of working on any other than minority-theme shows. Millions of outraged African Americans organize writing campaigns to save the endangered show. On occasion, a brief reprieve is granted as the network orders additional episodes, with the knowledge that these episodes are to be the last that will be seen, despite the protests of perhaps 2% of the 12% minority population who bother to write. We continue to wonder why networks ignore the African American population. We learn that the Nielsen rating numbers bear a direct relationship to potential ad rates. We learn that networks are unable earn their desired profits from minority-theme shows because advertisers are unwilling to pay premium ad rates during minority-them shows because Nielsen numbers are typically lower than those of their non-minority theme counterparts. Moreover, advertisers traditionally devalue the potential revenue from African American consumers. Network executives must answer to their shareholders, not African American protesters, and to engage in a pattern of business decisions that they know will not maximize their profits will cost them in corporate revenue potential, in share value, and ultimately, in their own jobs. With this knowledge, we should not be surprised to find very few African Americans and other minorities on screens, small and large. Perhaps if we become major stockholders in the networks, we will have a voice. Not that easy, since each network is a subsidiary of a much larger blue-chip conglomerate which could resist the sale of the block of shares that would be necessary to influence the decision-making process of the board, assuming that minority-controlled entities or individuals could raise the sufficient capital for such a buy. What about cable television? Cable has become a viable competitor to network television and has managed to force network television to push their collective programming envelope in order to stem the flow of viewers in the direction of cable. Black Entertainment television has been the only African Americancontrolled network for 20 years until its sale to Viacom this year. This begs the question; if the African American community is concerned about minority images in media and cannot make any headway with majority-controlled network television, why not support the African American-owned network that can and will portray African Americans?
Second question: if there is only one African American-controlled television network and that network is being supported by its community, why was it sold out of minority ownership? The answer to the first question relates to BET's programming content. Many older African Americans objected to the preponderance of youth-oriented programming on BET. BET features numerous music video and other hip-hop-related shows that are designed to capture the 18-30 demographic. This programming is also relatively inexpensive and easy to acquire. The programming that would appeal to a larger African American audience, i.e. feature films and original programming is expensive to develop and to produce. BET was unable to increase advertising revenue because, as discussed earlier, advertisers undervalue the African American consumer dollar. Several years ago, during a lawsuit, an internal sales document from an ad firm was made public and it shed light on the phenomenon of advertising to the African American community. The sales staff was admonished to not place ads with African American radio stations. "We want prospects, not convicts" Given that attitude, it is not inconceivable that a conspiracy exists among advertisers to pay lower rates for advertising to African Americans. BET was placed in a no-win situation. BET was constantly under attack in the A.A. community who challenged them to make their programming more substantial for an adult audience, but was unable to enhance the quality of its programming because it could not increase ad revenue from advertisers who were unwilling to pay premium rates to advertise to BET's core audience, the 18-30 year old demographic. Advertisers want "prospects, not convicts". It may not be fair to paint all advertisers with this wide brush, but their business decisions are very similar across the board. Besides, how fair is it to categorize all 19-30 year old African Americans as "convicts"? And yet, this has been done by at least one advertiser, and probably more. There are limited frequencies available for television broadcast. The major networks hold a clear monopoly over the television dial. The only alternatives are the syndicated independent networks that must sell their programming to independent stations around the country. The Fox network started out as a part time network and has grown into the largest independent network in television. The UPN and WB networks, that cater to multicultural audiences, are less established syndicated networks that appear to be growing in influence despite a deeply discounted advertising rate card. Both of these networks are backed by major studios who are able to provide the necessary financial support to sustain their losses as these networks find their nationwide markets. There are a number of African American entrepreneur groups who are endeavoring to build satellite networks that will provide a wide range of African American programming to a worldwide audience on a pay per view subscription basis. Perhaps an answer will eventually be found there. Only time and the raising of billions of dollars in capital will tell. The film industry was a promising outlet for African American themes in the early 1990's. Over the course of five years, 17 African American produced and/or directed films were released to theaters worldwide before the movement was stopped in its tracks by 1995. What happened to this renaissance in Black independent film? Black independent filmmakers did not stop making films and yet, the films stopped being
released into theaters. Many independent films by Black filmmakers have found distribution in the direct to video market. Many of these direct to video films were no more than glorified home movies, but some seemed to contain story and technical quality that rivaled studio-produced films that were distributed in 2000 screens, and yet, these films were not offered distribution through studio channels. If story and technical quality were not at issue, and if a studio can acquire and distribute one of these low-budget films and a much lower risk level and financial exposure than the films that they develop, produce and distribute, why are these films not reaching the theaters? The explanation given by the studios relate to the marketing of African American films. Firstly, studio execs will often assert that they do not know how to market African American films that do not feature recognizable African American stars. This argument is specious to me since "Hollywood" has hired the "cream of the crop" of Madison Ave's. marketing wizards, who are capable of successfully marketing sand to Arabs and ice to Eskimos. Surely, they can market African American films to a huge African American market and to the limited crossover market that would be needed to make the films financial viable. Next excuse, African American films do not sell well in European and Asian markets unless the cast includes someone named Eddie, Denzel or Samuel L. Censorship in the Moslem nations of the middle east would make in difficult for these films to translate effectively and African continent distribution channels are not controlled by American studios. African American films are traditionally produced on lower production budgets. The average studio-produced film carries a budget price tag of $25-30 million. The average studio-produced African-American content film carries a budget price tag of approximately $8-10 million. Studio accounting practices dictate that a film, in order to break even, must gross three times its production budget. Studio overhead, high salaries of above the line and principal cast, P&A expenses contribute to a "floating break even" point with most studio films. Ask Art Buchwald ("Coming to America" litigation) and he'll show you that it is possible to cook the books to show that no film ever turns a profit. Studios usually depend upon domestic box office proceeds to place their films in at least a break-even position, foreign box office proceeds and home video to pad the profit margin. Studio executives are reluctant to "greenlight" film that may only break even, when their resources can be used to produce films that produce large profits, even with the increased up front investment required for these films. It's a shareholder thing. The reasoning is simple. You're a studio executive. Why should you do a $10 million film that may appeal to only 12%-20% of the U.S. audience, that may gross $30-40 million domestic theatrical, in its best case scenario, with nothing from overseas and perhaps $5 million in home video, for a net profit of around $15 million? You can spend $30 million for a film with major stars who will appeal to 60%-70% of the market, gross $100 million domestic, $30 million overseas and an additional $10 million in home video, for a net profit of $40 million. When you consider the numbers, it becomes clear that will never see an abundance of films that target African American audiences. Corporate directors would much rather produce a year-end earnings summary for the shareholders that displays a bottom line figure indicating profits from ten films of $40 million net apiece, rather than five films at $40 net profit and five at $10 million net profit. How will it be possible for African Americans and other minority filmmakers to tell our stories to the community without the benefit of the established studio distribution and
exhibition channels? We learn from our history. In the early 20th century, at the inception of the film industry, the same situation existed. From the time that the first studios were created by German Jewish immigrants, people of color and their stories were excluded from film. The limited number of African Americans who appeared in white films were portrayed as nannies, bucks and coons. They were stereotypical and cartoon-like caricatures of human beings designed to provide comic relief at the expense of an entire race of people. In 1915, Birth of a Nation (AKA "The Clansman") was produced by D.W. Griffith, a bigot of extreme proportion, and the film received strong critical acclaim and the endorsement of the white media and President Woodrow Wilson. Unfortunately, the film featured bigoted portrayals of African Americans and glorified lynching and other violence against the African American community, which inspired real life acts of violence by whites around the nation against African Americans. The positive consequence of this film was the advent of the African American independent filmmaker. Oscar Micheaux, Noble and George Johnson began to create films that were designed to begin to undo the damage that was done to the image of African Americans by "Birth of a Nation". Financed by influential African Americans and by some liberal whites, these filmmakers created films that portrayed African Americans in a more realistic and balanced, and even heroic light. For the first time, African Americans were able to view themselves on screen as victors rather than victims. These "race films", as the white press called them, garnered barely a ripple in the white community and many African Americans criticized the filmmakers for portraying African Americans in an unrealistic light. For the most part, these films were well supported by African American audiences despite the fact that technical quality was often substandard and acting was often amateurish. Race films were exhibited in segregated theaters, school auditoriums and churches. The films did not earn major profits, but allowed the filmmakers to support themselves while creating more films. These films also provide a livelihood for many African American actors, while making many of them stars within the community. Paul Robeson's first appearance as a film actor was in an Oscar Micheaux film entitled "Body and Soul". This was a separate but unequal film industry by African American filmmakers for African American audiences and it thrived until the studios introduced "talking" films and introduced more African American actors. Eventually theaters desegregated, African American audiences flocked into these integrated theaters and this sounded the death knell for "race" films. The same debate has been raised since this early time period, as if we refuse to learn from our history that white financed and run studios will never consistently portray African Americans in a light that is designed to suit African American audiences. Now that we have reached another millennium, we have access to the technology and the capital that will allow African American filmmakers to produce films of a quality that is comparable to films produced by the studio system. Digital production and exhibition technology is the future of filmmaking. African American filmmakers are beginning to produce and distribute their own films. Several African American distribution entities have begun to place films in theaters around the country. Eventually we will be released from our dependence on studio production and distribution entities to tell our stories for us. Once we begin the process of reclaiming our portion of the $2-3 billion that African
American audiences spend every year, to view studio films, many of which have little relevance to their own lives, we will be able to build a separate industry that will cater to a multi-cultural audience. Our films may not feature the major stars and the films may not provide the thrill of expensive special effects, but the films will be more story and character-driven with well conceived scripts and gifted actors from stage and television. There is no reason why a community that controls financial resources that exceed the GNP's of every developing nation except China cannot create and support a separate film industry. We already have an abundance of talented writers, producers and technical personnel. The accounting expertise is available within our own community. We are only lacking the facilities. If we can reprogram our audience to view films, not at the plush multiplex, but at the neighborhood theater, school and church auditorium, we can provide as many venues as needed to exhibit films in every city around the country. If we can begin to refurbish some of these old theater palaces that have lay dormant since the 1968 riots, or if we can begin to develop new seat theaters that would be become houses to exhibit these independent films by filmmakers from within the community, we will be well along the road toward being a separate but equal film industry. The African American community makes noise about their representation in "Hollywood" films, begging and pleading for more serious and challenging fare, and yet will eagerly pay $117 million to support "Big Momma's House". What do you want to do, African Americans? It's time to either put up or shut up! Clifford E. Pulliam, Executive Director The Micheaux Foundation