No,
I'm really not giving this movie a positive review. Y'all thought
I was joking? The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch
and The Wardrobe is just another movie about the magic of
white people. I cannot accept movies like these. Movies like Narnia
and Harry Potter are just perpetuating the stereotype
that only white people can do some magic. They act like black
people can't do magic and live in fantasy worlds. Such bullshit.
Black people know magic! My uncle Otis can take quarters out my
ear! I dunno how he does it. I can't feel them in there. It's
fucking amazing. The only way I will accept a movie set in a world
where there are no black people is if the movie is titled "Ain't
No Niggas In This One, Reggie. So Don't Waste Your Money."
Or if the movie is directed by Woody Allen. Or it's an English
period piece. Anything else is racist trash.
And I'm especially pissed off about this movie, because I took
my little precious eight year-old girl to see it and it upset
her. Not even 30 minutes into the movie, my daughter tugged on
my shirt and asked me why aren't there any black people in the
movie. I was shocked. That is the one question black parents fear
the most. "Daddy/Mommy why are/aren't black people always/never
(fill in the fucking blank)?" Why'd she have to ask
me that shit? I can't answer these kinds of questions. I ain't
the Wiz, Babygirl. I just wanna take you to a movie, get you some
ice cream and have you back before your evil ass mama opens her
damn mouth.
So, I prayed on it for, say, "half a minute" (assist
to Mr. Biggs) and I told her the truth:
"Because the sight of black people could do irreparable
damage to the psyches of the white people who've paid 10 dollars
to suspend their disbelief and be transported to a magical world
of elves and talking creatures and wizards and witches. And seeing
a black person onscreen would remind them that there's no where
they can go that there won't be black people having cookouts on
the front lawn in spring, or leaving 2% tips if the server gives
anything remotely close to a dirty look (almost always), or returning
items without receipts, with a healthy disdain for store policy,
and my personal favorite, talking loudly in the movie theater,
just like daddy is doing right now."
And at that moment, some generic Chris Mihm lookin' ass cracker,
tryna impress his generic Soleil Moon Frye lookin' ass girl, shushed
me. No this muhfucka didn't. I told my li'l girl to cover her
ears and I looked dude in his face and said, "Dogg, if
you ever...EVER...shush me in front of my Babygirl again, I will
slap the shit out you on both sides of your fuckin' face."
You know he threatened to get the manager. I told him,
"Go 'head. His name's Jamal. Wanna call him? I got his number
right here on my cell phone. I come here all the time, dude."
He just gave up, with that. Of course I was lying, but that's
what he gets for thinking all black people know each other.
Finally, it's time for Tilda Swinton to curse her agent out and
tell him/her to stop picking up the damn phone every time some
smarmy studio suit needs an asexual being from an alternate universe.
I'm tired of seeing her unique ass vaguely human face.
