LEE DANIELS
The Black Hollywood director says, “I should be dead!”
Filmmaker Lee Daniels is Black and gay. “Yeah, I’m the double whammy,” he says. With good reason, he’s drawn to the stories of people who have the cards stacked against them.
His films champion fighters, the downtrodden, the underdogs. They’re about strugglers who keep their dignity, even if they don’t always win.
He’s famous for Monster’s
Ball (2001) with Halle Berry, Precious (2009) with Mo’Nique and Mariah Carey,
The Paperboy (2012) with Matthew McConaughey and Nicole Kidman, Lee Daniels’
The Butler (2013) with Forest Whitaker, Macy Gray, Vanessa Redgrave, Oprah Winfrey and Jane Fonda. And six seasons of Empire.
His latest film is the story of blues singer Billie Holiday, The United States vs Billie
Holiday. At the heart of it is the song she made her signature, Strange Fruit.
Her rendition is the bitterest of blues and it’s one of the sharpest indictments against racism ever recorded. So much so, the US government went to extraordinary lengths to stop her singing it. They failed. Billie Holiday’s story has already been filmed, momentously, starring Diana Ross in 1972 as Lady Sings The
Blues. So why the new film? Lee Daniels spoke from Los Angeles with Ian Horner for DNA, and held nothing back.
DNA: Lady Sings The Blues (1972) was designed to appeal to African-Americans and white Americans without offending either, which meant Billie Holiday’s famous song Strange Fruit was downplayed and virtually eliminated. How much was that a factor in your decision to make a Billie Holiday film with that song now front and centre?
Lee Daniels: That was exactly the reason I made this film. I didn’t know what Strange Fruit meant when I was a teenager. I didn’t understand its significance and it wasn’t until some 50 years later that I read the script and I re-listened to Strange Fruit and I went, “What the fuck is this?” Like, it’s not meant to be a beautiful song. It’s an ugly song that makes you want to get up and do something.
It’s only very short (three verses, no chorus). Why did you leave it so late in the film to let audiences hear it? Did you assume audiences would know it already?
No. I had to assume they didn’t know the song because I didn’t know the song. And I didn’t know Billie Holiday’s real story. As a black American, I take pride in knowing black history. And as a 61-year-old black man, I didn’t know the importance of the song, so I had to assume not everybody else did either.
When did you first hear it?
I was 13 when I saw Lady Sings The Blues. >>
>> There, it was a song was just beautifully sung by Diana Ross. It didn’t connect to the lynching because that wasn’t the story they were trying to tell then.
And listen, it’s important to understand Lady Sings The Blues is a very important film because it was needed, at the time, to show two black people kissing on screen. That was major. It was a big, big deal for black Americans to see themselves like that on screen. It was important for that reason, but that reason only.
It didn’t delve into what Billie Holiday was really about – that she was a civil-rights leader, that she did not get the credit as often so many women, especially black women, don’t get. Women don’t get credit for what they do.
The title implies the odds were unbelievably stacked against her. How could she ever win? But is the point that they could take her liberty and they could try to take her career but they couldn’t take all of her – alluded to in her song All Of Me?
You got it, man. It’s rare I hear someone who understands the lyrics to All Of Me. Many white journalists don’t want to get that. It’s subliminal and they’re unaware of it, and they don’t want to see it. Thank you so much for getting it. That means a lot to me.
Where do you think Holiday’s inner strength came from? [Pauses in thought]. When you grow up in a whorehouse, when you’re raped at 11, when you’re sent to jail for being raped like it was your fault, when you’re forced into prostitution at 13… She had nothing to lose. I think she knew she wasn’t going to live very long. I think her strength came from understanding her time on this earth was limited. Instinctively she knew. Andra [Day, who plays Holiday] agrees with me.
I’m here because I’m a fighter. Many critics, journalists, studio executives, many white people, will never understand what it’s like to be a gay Black man.
Everything was done with urgency because she didn’t think she was gonna live. She didn’t know she was a civil rights leader or an activist. She just knew she was going to tell the truth. And she never delivered a song the same way twice, ever. She was living in that moment, in the truth of that situation.
That’s the way she lived her life, that’s the way she sang her music and told stories. She wanted the world to understand that black people were being lynched. No other celebrity of colour was talking about that because it wasn’t politically correct. People were too worried about their careers.
You’ve also had people put you down. You’ve talked about your father and how he struggled with you being gay. Where do you get your strength from?
Well, I don’t think I’m going to die tomorrow like Billie did. [Laughs] But that’s what Billie and I have in common. I live in my truth. I have to. I’ve come too far, I’ve seen too many people die. I know too many suicide deaths of gays. [Pauses.] I’m proud of who I am and that strength comes from people telling me I’m nothing. I wonder why people don’t like my work and it’s because they don’t like me! And they don’t like me because I’m gay, because I’m queer. Because I’m telling you I… am… queer. Look at me! And I don’t give a fuck. That really
fucks with people’s heads.
I love Lil Nas X. He’s a beautiful gay boy with that song on YouTube where he’s having sex with the devil, Montero (Call Me By Your Name). I’ve never seen anything like it! Oh my God, he’s me on steroids! He’s saying, look at me, look at my work, and you don’t have to like me, and you don’t have to like my work, but you’re going to see me! And that upsets people.
Your grandmother knew you were gay before you did. What did she say to you?
It was something to the effect of, “you are different”. She used a derogatory word: faggot. I didn’t know what it meant. She said it lovingly and she said it was a word that would be used on me. And it was used on me many years later – it was used hard. And I love her for it.
She just said, tell your truth, Lee. Don’t shy away from who you are, stand firm in your truth and you’re going to be special. And she was right. I stand firm in my truth and who would’ve thought I’d be where I’m at right now?
How do you think your father would feel about your success?
He’d love it. He would be so proud of me. He wouldn’t know what to make of the world today, how everything’s changed. He would have evolved, he was smart. It was difficult for him being a black man in America. He did not want me to be a gay black man in America. He reacted to my homosexuality the only way a black straight man could. And that was try to beat it out of me, shake it out of me, scare it out of me. He didn’t know any better, he didn’t have the skills.
How did you keep loving him?
I didn’t. It wasn’t until I was in my forties that I loved him and I realised he was just a black man in America, too. And he wanted what was best for me. I hated him. But hate is a hard thing to carry with you. So you try to figure out where that’s coming from, and understand it.
You had 41 producers on Lee Daniels’ The
Butler because you had to promise credits to raise the money. Was it easier to get backing for this film?
Yes, I did have 41! We did whatever we could to finance it. It was really hard to raise the money for Butler. It was easier this time. We only went to one financier, Jordan Fudge, who’s a black gay man, too. It was beautiful to have a gay black man supporting me.
But the studios didn’t want to buy the script. They wanted to do the film but at a certain budget. People talk about systemic racism in Hollywood… What they’ll say is, “Okay, we’re not racist ’cos we’ll give you $10 to do this black film about this black singer.” But I need $20. “Well, we’re sorry,” they say.
But that’s not what they would do for a film about a white singer, or a film by a white filmmaker. We’ve come far. We’ve got a lot further to go and I’m glad I’m part of the change.
What about systemic homophobia in Hollywood?
That’s a given. Yeah, I’m the double whammy. My dad was right. He understood how hard it was going to be for me. ’Cos it’s hard. That doesn’t take away my fight. You asked earlier what makes me so strong. I know the deck is stacked against me. I know I was born a statistic. I’m not supposed to be alive. >>
My dad reacted to my homosexuality the only way a Black straight man could… to try to beat it, shake it, scare it out of me. He didn’t know any better.
>> I should’ve been killed in shoot-outs as a young kid growing up in a dangerous neighbourhood in Philadelphia. I should’ve been killed from AIDS. I shouldn’t be here. But I’m here. I’m here because I’m a fighter and I have stories to tell. And the world that I see the optics from, a very specific one that many white people will never get, many critics, journalists, studio executives, many people will never understand what it’s like to be a gay black man. That is the lens through which only I can see. So, it’s hard to appreciate my work if you’re not willing to understand where I come from. Does that make any sense?
Certainly. Why should you have died of AIDS?
Because everybody else did. During the ’80s and ’90s, I didn’t get it. I don’t understand why I didn’t. All my friends did. I don’t have any friends from that period. It wiped out a generation. It was coronavirus on steroids, specifically in the gay community, and very specifically in the African-American gay community. There were body bags in the streets.
People don’t talk about that. I’m going to do a movie about that ’cos I don’t think there’s been a movie on what really happened and how America was affected. I was so affected by that. Can’t nobody tell that story except me. I guess they could, but I could tell it with precision because it’s in me. Bits of it are in my work – in Precious and The Butler and Monster’s Ball.
The HIV/AIDS pandemic was ignored for years because it mainly affected gays. If governments at the time had reacted as immediately as current governments have to coronavirus…
Correct! It’s a sad testament but, let me tell you, if coronavirus was only affecting gay people right now it would be a repeat.
The elevator scene in the film, where ’30s movie star Tallulah Bankhead and Holiday are on their way up to Bankhead’s apartment for sex and a black elevator operator says black people must take the service elevator – did that actually happen?
Not like that, but it did happen. Tallulah wasn’t with her when it happened, but I had to get Tallulah’s story in as I wanted everybody to know Billie had a relationship with Tallulah. To be honest with you, I’m sure it did happen. I’d bet my life that it happened in other ways with Tallulah because when Billie entered a public space with white people it just happened. It wasn’t documented that it happened with Tallulah but it’s documented that it happened to one of Billie’s band members with a white person.
Holiday was fighting demons all her life, including drugs, which she never conquered. You’ve made a film that highlights her dignity and self-belief, her loathing for injustice, all while she was battling so much. Was the balance hard to achieve?
So hard. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, man. It was hard for many reasons. It was hard for me as a struggling addict. I understood Billie. I understood her pain. I understood what it was like to be a black artist coming from a dark place and having dark things happen to you and having to heal yourself. I don’t think people understand that addicts are just trying to heal ourselves.
I’ve been blessed to be around some incredible people who were there to support
My strength comes from people telling me I’m nothing. They don’t like me because I’m gay, because I’m queer, and I don’t give a fuck. That really fucks with people’s heads.
me and who understand addiction is a disease. People are embarrassed to talk about it. People don’t want to talk about race in America. They don’t want to talk about being gay. They don’t want to talk about having an addiction.
I don’t understand why I didn’t get AIDS. All my friends did. It wiped out a generation, very specifically in the African-American gay community. There were body bags in the streets.
But all those things add up to why it is that I’m an addict and why it is that Billie was an addict – where she came from, her race, her sexuality. She wanted to heal herself.
I don’t know where I was going with that. I segued off into something else. I went down another path, brother.
It’s all right. We hit a nerve and you were speaking from the heart. There are many unforgettable moments in the film. One is a very gentle, almost delicate scene, on the surface at least, where black youngsters watch in disbelief as their mother’s body swings from a tree. It’s a tableau, nothing happens. Gut-wrenching.
Yeah, man, the kids’ mom was hanging from the tree and Billie stumbled on it. I wanted people to understand. That to me is what this whole movie is about – that lynching moment, and why it was that Billie used it.
How many countless people, how many countless relatives of mine who are now dead, have stumbled on that same picture of a black person being murdered? We all saw it with George Floyd. We can go to the streets and protest. Billie couldn’t go to the streets to protest.
This was the norm. To be honest with you, I’m surprised not everybody black in America ain’t on drugs. With the life we’ve been given to lead, brought over to be slaves and what that caused – we’re the products of slaves. The fact we’ve been able to do so much with ourselves is a testament to the strength we have as black people.
Film publicist: So sorry to jump in but that’s all the time we have, Ian, thank you so much.
Lee Daniels: Wait, wait, wait! Ian, ask another question. This is my brother from overseas from DNA, the gay publication, and what we’re talking about is very important. So, I’m with you, Ian. Keep on going, man.
DNA: Thank you so much. Why has the antilynching act (referenced at the end of the film) still not been passed by the US Senate? What the will it take?
[Laughs]. You comin’ over here! Maybe Australia will have better luck at it than we’ve been having. Seriously, I think [Vice-President] Kamala Harris will see to this. That’s the great part about having her in office. It’ll happen soon, but I think it’s a statement about where we are. We have never looked properly at the ugly situation we’re in until recently. We are at war. •