A hair- raising, witchy fable
Justin Simien is back with “Bad Hair,” a horror comedy that really cuts. Review,
Whip- smart cultural criticism delivered in an appealing package is what writerdirector Justin Simien does best, as he demonstrated in his f irst feature f ilm, “Dear White People,” and the spinoff Netflix series of the same name. His second feature, “Bad Hair,” is winking social commentary as high- concept horror comedy, both holding a mirror to society and offering an escape valve. Genre f ilms have always served as a place to traffic in otherwise taboo topics, and here, Simien takes aim at the white European beauty standards that dominate Western ideology.
His tale is set at a Blackoriented music network called Culture. Elle Lorraine makes her feature film debut as Anna Bludso, an assistant fearful for her job in a time of corporate upheaval and willing to do anything.
Culture’s milieu is one of conscious ’ 80s hip- hop, featuring VJs like Brooke- Lynn ( Lena Waithe) and Sista Soul ( Yaani King Mondschein), who sport braids and natural hair and extol Afrocentric organic living. But when new management comes in, spearheaded by monster Grant ( James Van Der Beek) and “f irst Black supermodel” Zora ( Vanessa Williams), Culture pivots to new talent and a new image, embodied by mononymic pop/ R& B diva Sandra ( Kelly Rowland), who shakes her long, shaggy mane almost harder than she shakes her hips in her music videos.
Desperately hoping to move up at Culture, now called Cult, Anna, a classic shrinking violet with a short, natural ’ fro, meets with Zora. But if she wants to succeed, Zora tells her, “My girls need to f low freely.” Anna leaves with a card for a salon where a mysterious stylist ( Laverne Cox) offers the hottest new trend, a sew- in weave of long, glossy black hair. While Anna loves her new ’ do, this scalp- searing mane is incredibly, violently and bloodthirstily highmaintenance, seemingly with a mind all its own.
Simien sets his f ilm 30 years ago, placing these race- based image- conscious pressures in a recognizable recent past. But the realities of the f ilm are all too relevant, especially considering the push in the U. S. to pass the CROWN Act. An acronym for Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair, the act would bar “race- based hair discrimination,” and it’s been passed in just seven states.
While Anna’s story of workplace bias could be current, Simien deftly connects it to the past. As her hair possesses her, Anna turns to a book of slave lore and a folktale about a girl who turns tree moss into a wig, adding another layer of fantasy and reality to the fable.
While “Bad Hair” is more humorously incisive than truly terrifying, Lorraine sells it, while Simien creates space to discuss the ways in which women enforce unfair standards of beauty on one another in a white patriarchal society, using the horror genre as a blunt but effective tool to clear the path.