When Shirley Temple Met Bojangles

from the columnists.com

America lost perhaps its most famous child star in cinematic history when Shirley Temple Black passed away last week. Shirley Temple rose to fame in the 1930s at the height of the Great Depression and entertained audiences with her charm and smile. But it was her relationship with Bill 'Bojangles' Robinson that was unique to not only Hollywood, but America at that time as well.

Bill Robinson, better known by his stage name of 'Bojangles,' was a well known tap dancer in the early 20th Century. He played before white and black audiences alike, while making a living literally on his feet. When he first began working with Shirley Temple, 'Bojangles' was already in his 50s and had been a legendary tap dancer at that point. The pairing between 'Bojangles' and Shirley Temple would not be without its critics however.

Though 'Bojangles' and Shirley Temple shined well together on the big screen, their roles were anything but equal. 'Bojangles' -- true to the form of how Hollywood viewed blacks at the time -- often got stuck playing Shirley Temple's butler. His singing and dancing may invoke some unkind parallels to the stereotypical roles another famous black actor at the time, Stepin' Fetchit, had to play, but it's worth remembering that these guys were at least getting work. In 2001, Gregory Hines would go on to portray 'Bojangles' in a movie by the same name. Below is the famous stairwell dance scene between Bill 'Bojangles' Robinson and Shirley Temple.  R.I.P. to both.

Harry Belafonte on Race & Cinema

This is from a speech made by the legendary artist Harry Belafonte at the New York Film Critics Circle Awards last week.

"... The power of cinema is an uncontainable thing and it's truly remarkable, in its capacity for emotional evolution. When I was first watching the world of cinema, there was a film that stunned the world, with all its aspects and art form. They did a lot, at that time. The film was done by D.W. Griffith, and it was called The Birth of a Nation, and it talked about America's story, its identity, and its place in the universe of nations. And that film depicted the struggles of this country with passion and power and great human abuse. Its depiction of black people was carried with great cruelty. And the power of cinema styled this nation, after the release of the film, to riot and to pillage and to burn and to murder black citizens. The power of film.

At the age of five, in 1932, I had the great thrill of going to the cinema. It was a great relief for those of us who were born into poverty, a way we tried to get away from the misery. One of the films they made for us, the first film I saw, was Tarzan of the Apes. [Ed note: The movie is called Tarzan the Ape Man.] In that film, [we] looked to see the human beauty of Johnny Weissmuller swinging through the trees, jump off, and there spring to life, while the rest were depicted as grossly subhuman, who were ignorant, who did not know their way around the elements, living in forests with wild animals. Not until Johnny Weissmuller stepped into a scene did we know who we were, according to cinema.

Throughout the rest of my life ... on my birth certificate, it said "colored." Not long after that, I became "Negro." Not too long after that, I became "black." Most recently, I am now "African-American." I spent the better part of almost a century just in search of, seeking, "Who am I? What am I? What am I to be called? What do I say? Who do I appeal to? Who should I be cautious of?" In this life, when we walk into the world of cinema, we use the instrument that is our ability to try to give another impression of who and what we were as a people, and what we meant to this great nation called America. I'm glad that Sidney Poitier should step into this space right after the Second World War, and new images of what we are as people, certainly as men.

President Obama Speaks on Race and Trayvon Martin

Last Saturday a Florida jury determined that George Zimmerman was not guilty in the death of Trayvon Martin. For those of you reading this who may not be aware, in February of 2012, Trayvon Martin was walking home from the store when he was approached by Mr. Zimmerman. A fight ensues and Trayvon is left dead. It turns out George Zimmerman had been following Trayvon in his vehicle, and when he asked a 911 operator whether or not he should go after Trayvon, he was told, "we don't need you to do that." Despite this, he ignored the operator and pursued him anyway. So what exactly was that suspicious looking man in the neighborhood armed with that Zimmerman decided to pursue? A pack of Skittles and an Arizona Ice Tea. I gave my thoughts about this case last year.

In the following days across the United States there were protests in cities from New York to L.A. In New York's Time Square, protesters halted traffic dead in its tracks with the streets swelling with thousands of hurt, angry and disappointed people. It wasn't just the fact that George Zimmerman was found not guilty, but that he wasn't even initially arrested until people started protesting. Many talking heads on the news networks stated their opinions on the verdict, but it seemed everyone (well, many black folks at least) was waiting on the thoughts of one man in particular.

A Little Girl, A Bowl of Cheerios, and A Whole Lot of Hate

It's somewhat ironic that a 30 second Cheerios commercial could show just how far America has to go when it comes to race and media.

The Cheerios commercial that has ignited a racist backlash is rather simple in its premise. A young girl - who happens to be biracial - asks her mother if Cheerios are good for your heart. Her mother responds that they are indeed healthy for your heart. The commercial then cuts to her sleeping father on the couch who awakens to see an avalanche of Cheerios on his chest. Here's how it all plays out:

Richard Pryor on Race, Education and Success

"I live in racist America and I'm uneducated, yet a lot of people love me and like what I do, and I can make a living from it.You can't do much better than that."

                                                            - Richard Pryor