The Rolling Stone interviews - Jann Wenner [125]
I think it holds true more now than when I said that.
Are there people out there bullshitting, saying, “I’m a black filmmaker, love me!”
Not “love me,” but a lot of people are getting deals now, to make films, and I’m not begrudging anybody, but we’ll find out the contenders from the pretenders.
Do you still want to be seen as a “black” filmmaker, or a filmmaker first, who happens to be black? It’s a subtle but important distinction.
To me, I don’t think there’s ever going to be a time in America where a white person looks at a black person and they don’t see that they’re black. That day ain’t coming very soon. Don’t hold your breath. So that’s a given. So why am I going to get blue in the face, worrying about that? For me, that’s one of the most important things Malcolm X said: “What do you call a black man with a Ph.D.? Nigger.” That’s it. So why am I going to spend time and energy saying: “Don’t call me a black filmmaker. I’m a filmmaker!” I’m not getting into that argument. I’ll leave that to the other Negroes. [Laughs] The other so-called Negroes.
Do you still feel that you are writing for a black audience? Right up front you said, “Look, Woody Allen writes for intellectual New York City Jews and I write for blacks.”
Yes, but that does not exclude—if you do it well—everybody else. I like Woody Allen’s films, but there’s stuff in those films I don’t get, and the person next to me is dying! I don’t get it. But that does not deter from my enjoyment of the film. I think the same is true of me. Black people be rolling down the aisle, and white folks don’t understand it. They may not get everything—all the nuances—but they still enjoy the film. So I don’t think there’s any crime in writing for a specific audience.
I think people were surprised, maybe because of their own naïveté, that you would do that, that you would want to—
See, that’s that whole crossover motherfucker that motherfuckers fall into. That’s because anytime they see the word “black,” they have a negative connotation. I wasn’t raised like that. That wasn’t my upbringing. So I’m never going to run from the word “black.”
In 1987, in writing about racism, you wrote: “We’re all tired about white-man this, white-man that. Fuck dat! It’s on us.” No more excuses. But if you ask white people if you had said that, given your persona, they would be surprised.
Yeah, but where are they getting their perceptions from? [Laughs] From TV, magazines and newspapers.
And are you coming across in a way that’s not truthful to who you are?
Yeah, because the way the media portrays me is as an angry black man. The funny thing to me is when white people accuse blacks, when they see somebody black who’s angry, they say, “Why are you so angry?” [Laughs] If they don’t know why black people are angry, then there’s no hope. I mean, it’s a miracle that black Americans are as complacent and happy-go-lucky as we are. I don’t think I have that much anger. I don’t think I’m angrier than I have a right to be. See, that statement you read me is not a complete statement. On one hand, you cannot deny the injustices that have been committed against you as a people. On the other hand, you cannot use as an excuse: “Well, I really would have liked to have done that, but Mr. Charlie was blocking me every single time.” I think that’s the more complete statement.
You’ve said you don’t think blacks can be racist.
Right.
Are you speaking of black Americans?
In this case, I am speaking of black Americans. And then what I always say, and people never print, is that for me there’s a difference between racism and prejudice. Black people can be prejudiced. But to me, racism is the institution. Black people have never enacted laws saying that white folks cannot own property, white folks can’t intermarry, white folks can’t vote. You got to have power to do that. That’s what racism is—an institution.
Institutionally hindering an entire people?
Yeah. Me calling