This year, the American Essentials Film Festival has screened a fascinating double feature of two landmark films in African-American cinema; the “Black Woodstock” documentary Wattstax, and Charles Burnett’s independent, neorealist drama Killer of Sheep. Both of these were released in the 1970s, at the peak of the “Black is Beautiful” social movement, and also in the aftermath of a series of riots in the Los Angeles neighborhood of Watts, in which both of these films are set. Concerning themselves with true depictions of local life, they provide detailed historical insight into black American life at the precipice of great social change.
Wattstax documents the titular festival held in the summer of 1972, commemorating the Watts riots seven years earlier. These riots were a landmark moment in the Civil Rights movement, as California, a primary left-leaning state, had championed itself on its perceived advanced integration between white and black communities. Watts, however, was an example of Los Angeles’ discriminatory housing laws, which effectively segregated different racial groups, forcing Black Americans to relocate into the Eastern half of the city. As a result, police discrimination in the area was rampant, as police presence often targeted the area at night, enforcing a curfew, and regularly murdering residents. In a post-riot Watts, interviews with the residents demonstrate the profound change in mindset that these riots had, and further, the strong sense of self-determination and communal pride that they instilled, which the festival comes to embody.
The film is full of fantastic music from artists such as funk god Isaac Hayes, and the angelic Kim Weston, but the music instead is supplementary to the engaging interviews with the residents, and the hilarious satirical monologues of Richard Pryor, who acts as a Greek chorus of sorts. The film works best when it draws parallels between the content of the lyrics, and the topics discussed by the townspeople, none of whom reach any singular consensus on what issues such as love, respect, gender, and race mean to them. Indeed, the one shared opinion by the residents is the mood of the festival: “beautiful,” a word that is reinstated several times throughout the course of the film, most notably in the powerful opening speech by Jesse Jackson, which encapsulates the core philosophy of the movement. The images of audience members dancing freely coupled with the luscious soundtrack are a testament to the profound beauty present within what was once a very troubled community, one that self-determinedly begins to propel itself into an even more beautiful future.
Seemingly far divorced from the glamour and optimism in Wattstax, Killer of Sheep is instead a powerfully down-to-earth film, which places its gaze on working-class black life, though it remains entirely within the same neighbourhood as the former. Burnett’s film, a key work in the “LA Rebellion” movement of black American directors in the 70s, is a black-and-white, non-narrative film that evokes Italian neorealism and British kitchen-sink theatre, surrounding the life of slaughterhouse worker Stan. The film unfolds more like a series of vignettes vaguely related to Stan than any discernible story, acted by local amateurs, with Burnett’s aim to depict life as it is. Indeed, some scenes could be considered documentary footage, others improvisatory, creating a slowly unfurling tapestry of working-class black life in the Watts neighbourhood.
Killer of Sheep is not entirely pessimistic, but it does not share the grand feeling of an exciting future that Wattstax does, instead, it resigns itself to the life it depicts, perhaps subtly taking the opinion that the riots did little to truly change the deeply ingrained community issues. Stan’s role as a slaughterhouse worker takes a toll on his emotional intimacy, as he struggles to connect with his wife and children, and the community’s surrounding criminal enterprise, robbery, violence, and decrepitude leave both Stan and his family desensitised to the daily troubles in the community. I’m drawn to believe that Burnett intended Stan’s occupation to act as a metaphor to the inherited trauma that has been transferred through black communities, who since their appearance in American society, have been surrounded by violence and other senseless acts against their livelihood, acts that can very well inspire a feeling of resignation at a current situation.
Conversely, this resignation leads to what I consider to be the “arthouse paradox,” in which films may have a certain artistic or educational merit that may outweigh their sense of engagement with the audience; this is certainly a matter of my personal taste, but I often struggled to remain invested in the content of the film due to its detached tone and meandering narrative, and perhaps I took less away from the film because of this. However, perhaps it is my own detachment from the experiences of the characters in the film that led to this judgment, and much like the characters in the film, I resigned myself to expect sameness as the film continued. Regardless, there are moments of great beauty: Stan’s toddler daughter singing along to her mother’s soul records, a backlit dance between husband and wife, children leaping over rooftops and across construction sites. Killer of Sheep is well worth watching for its meticulousness in capturing a specific community at this specific moment in time, and indeed, the important role it plays historically in diversifying the depictions and stories of black characters in film.
Wattstax and Killer of Sheep are united in their goals in approaching their subject matter, but ultimately present more questions than answers, and lead the viewer to perhaps take away a greater sense of uncertainty than unity. Viewed together, these films stitch together a fascinating narrative, demonstrating the diversity of what Richard Pryor describes in Wattstax as “the black experience,” one that is simultaneously viewed as singular from those outside the Watts community, yet fragmented within Watts itself. These films explore a paradigm similar to that which is occurring in the US currently: in the wake of these riots, garnering attention and interest, the community asks itself – where next?
Dylan Stevens (18)
Amercian Essentials Film Festival