Identity in Cinema

Jade Cloud

Professor Saphire

COM 126.01

4 December 2020

 

Identity and Cinema

            One of the most powerful aspects of filmmaking is its ability to bring an awareness of any underrepresented demographic to a wider audience. Like many artforms, the medium of film serves as a sharing or exchange of human experiences and identities, allowing viewers into the world of different communities in which they have no direct association with. It is no wonder several directors, including Martin Scorsese, Woody Allen, and Spike Lee, have taken advantage of the infinite possibilities this medium has to offer, which resulted in these highly personal love letters to the city that shaped each of their existences. True to the dissident principle, these three films did open up the form in their own unique way. But perhaps, what they did not do, is stand the test of time.

Ironically, in each of their attempts to depict the underrepresented demographic in which they are a part of, they have contributed to the underrepresentation of other demographics. More specifically, the choices these filmmakers selected to represent their own demographic and identity through the film form have the power to evoke shame in certain viewers, as they are confronted with undesirable and often times, stereotypical portrayals of their opposing identities. To be frank, I think that identity is a tremendous source of pride for some people and the cause of shame for others. These warring emotions over identity can even occur within one individual. For instance, someone can be proud of their ethnicity, but ashamed of their gender; or proud of their sexual orientation, but ashamed of the color of their skin. And when you become more aware of these isolated aspects that form identity, pride and shame have a way of supplanting themselves at the front of your consciousness, making them difficult to ignore. 

There is, perhaps, no greater display of the pride Martin Scorsese feels as an Italian American in New York City, than the opening montage sequence in his film Mean Streets. In addition to this pride, you get the overwhelming sense of love and nostalgia that he feels for his upbringing and community. Set to the upbeat pop song “Be My Baby,” a sequence of shots unfolds chronicling Scorsese’s, and by extension, his characters’ everyday lives in Little Italy, while also establishing the importance of Catholicism to his protagonist, Charlie, by ending the montage on a shot of the church. Right from the get-go, it is evident to the viewers how much Charlie allows his religion to identify him, which enhances the shame and disgust that he feels when carrying out the sinful tasks required of him as a member of the mafia.

On a separate note, one of the most confounding things about this film, to me at least, is the complete lack of Asian American representation. Although Mean Streets is dedicated to authentically depicting the Italian American experience in the city, I was hoping there would at least be some sort of Asian presence, considering Chinatown is within blocks of Little Italy.

In Woody Allen’s film Annie Hall, there is also this strong presence and often times, conflicting view of identity weighing on the protagonist, Alvy Singer, who is a proud, yet pretentious New Yorker. Unlike most films, Annie Hall sheds light on the Jewish community through unconventional and more subtle means. For instance, there is this sense that Alvy forsakes his Jewish roots in an effort to be more compatible with Annie, which is apparent in the infamous lobster scene. Shellfish as well as the ham he is served during the split screen dinner scene are most definitely not kosher, and yet these scenes are deliberately built around those particular foods, perhaps as another, more nuanced way to express the love he has for Annie. It is also during this split screen dinner scene where Jewish representation, whether truthful or stereotypical, becomes most noticeable, as emphasis is placed on the disparities between the reserved, WASP Halls, and the out-spoken and lively Singers.

Meanwhile, Spike Lee’s film Do the Right Thing presents audiences with a lush portrait of the diverse black experience set in Brooklyn during the 80s. Now more than ever, this film is a much needed wake-up call, with racial and ethnic tensions running high until culminating in one unforgivable act of police brutality. On a lighter note, Do the Right Thing employs a relatively slow-paced approach to editing to mirror its slow burn narrative by sticking to long tracking shots of individual members of the community and extended dialogue sequences. Likewise, as the narrative nears the rising action and climax, the shots gradually shorten to match the chaos that inevitably ensues outside Sal's pizzeria.  Without question, this film accurately portrays the racial tension that continues to polarize the country today, and should be viewed by all Americans, despite the controversy surrounding Mookie's decision to retaliate.

It should be noted that these three films did an exceptional job portraying the male experience in New York at the expense of authentic and respectful female representation. I suppose, in their defense, the blatant misogyny apparent in their films could be accounted for the era. However, as a viewer of the 21^st century, there are certain moments that can no longer be ignored, particularly the way in which nudity is presented and dealt with. In Mean Streets, Theresa’s naked body is objectified using the three-shot salvo for no important reason other than what appears to be salacious intent. Perhaps even more disturbing is the nude scene in Do the Right Thing not because of the content captured, but rather the context and circumstances in which the scene was shot. As mentioned in the New York Times article “The Pressure to Take it Off,” actress Rosie Perez, who plays Mookie’s love interest, reflects on her experience shooting this scene, saying that “…the reason you don’t see my head is because I’m crying. I was like, I don’t want to do this.” Were it not for the obvious imbalance of male and female nudity on screen, it might not seem so exploitative or better yet, there might not even be any need to open up a dialogue surrounding this issue. 

By no means am I suggesting that nudity should be completely excluded, as the human body is something to be celebrated, and can even enhance the artistic vision of many filmmakers when integrated in a tasteful manner. But when there is no valid narrative or expressive reason to incorporate such intimate shots except to satiate male appetites, and more importantly, when all parties involved are not 100% on board, then clearly there is dire need of reform. Ultimately, these films seem to have been created by men for men, and clearly prove how male dominated the film industry was, and in some capacities, continues to be.