‘American Society’ has same tropes it pokes fun at
So much of art is up to interpretation. Aren knows this all too well.
Aren, one of the main characters in “The American Society of Magical Negroes” in theaters now and played by Justice Smith, is a struggling visual artist hoping to get more attention for his work – yarn sculptures.
He hits one of his lowest points when he’s recruited by Roger (David Alan Grier) and offered an opportunity to join the society mentioned in the movie’s title.
And what does this magical society do? According to Roger, they’re “unofficially saving the damn world.” The members of the society are tasked with being a “vanguard of white relaxation,” while also being “authentically Black, but acceptable to whites.” Doing this, Roger says, is secretly how they keep Black people safe and alive, and they’ve done this work in secret for decades.
The film, written and directed by Kobi Libii, is a satirical comedy taking on the “magical negro” trope in film, television and books (see: “Green Mile,” “Legend of Bagger Vance”). The term was coined by filmmaker Spike Lee. These sorts of characters are used to make topics or plot points a white audience may find uncomfortable and tones it down, often through an assurance or enlightenment.
After all, the character devotes their energy and focus to supporting the white character and making them a better person, no matter the trials or injustices they themselves are facing as a Black person just trying to exist in the world.
And “American Society” really leans into the fantastical comedy part – think “Barbie” more than “American Fiction,” to which it has been frequently compared.
Aren agrees to join the society, with some humorous hijinks, “Men In Black” vibes and references to many of the “magical negroes” in other movies.
But somewhere amid the laughter, I wondered: Are the jokes on Black people rather than just for them? Yes, the movie is by us, but is it for us?
The movie is funny, for sure, but it also seems to fall into the very same tropes it’s poking fun at and trying to highlight.
After all, Aren seems pretty miserable, and the other members of the society don’t seem any more content. Are they unable to benefit from what the society is supposed to be doing for the betterment of Black people’s lives? And what of the history of the society’s work? What are the implications? What have they achieved?
The jokes are layered over the most meaningful of revelations in the movie. Sure, humor can be a powerful teaching tool, but it doesn’t feel intentional here. Instead, it comes across as a way to make those hard topics palatable for the non-Black viewing audience.
And much like Aren’s misunderstood yarn creations, there comes a point where you have to ask: Who was this made for? If the lines and wisecracks so clearly made to get the biggest laughs out of a Black audience are buried under not being too potentially offensive to non-Black viewers, is this not the same as the trope it’s fighting so hard against?
The movie also has a second plot line with Aren pursuing a relationship with Lizzie, a woman he meets while undercover for the society. It’s very sweet, though the ethnically ambiguous casting for his romantic interest – which shouldn’t matter, love is love – rips at the film’s own politics.
Is it truly satire if it’s all good for a laugh, but maybe not good for offering clear context on the topics it wants to expose and skewer? I suppose we’ll see how the audience interprets it.