I'm not the biggest Spike Lee fan in the world,* but he's obviously a talented filmmaker with a unique voice and the holder of an undeniably important (and rare) view of life in America's inner cities. I'm not saying you have to kowtow to his genius—no filmmaker is above criticism—but he's probably due a certain modicum of respect. At the very least, I guess, you should not presume bad faith when discussing his work before anyone has, you know, seen it.
This is a long way of saying that I'm not even mad at this Vox headline. I'm impressed.
"Trolling" suggests that Spike Lee is arguing something in Chi-Raq—a retelling of the Lysistrata set in modern Chicago, where gun violence is rampant—that he doesn't believe, or that he's doing it simply to get a rise out of people. But whom, exactly, is Spike Lee "trolling"? The residents of Chicago, who live with an entirely unacceptable level of violence? Other black people? VOX DOT COM "identities" writers? I'm all in favor of trolling—it's fun!—but since when does "trolling" simply mean "doing a thing I don't agree with"?
I'm also kind of in love with the first sentence of this piece:
Spike Lee has already fallen under some controversy for his upcoming movie Chi-Raq, a musical comedy that attempts to satirize Chicago's crime and violence.
Fascinating phrase there, "fallen under some controversy." It's amusingly passive—controversy just fell from the sky, crushing poor lil Spike; it wasn't ginned up by the perpetually aggrieved or anything—for one thing. For another, it's horribly awkward, a bastardization, I think, of "fallen under suspicion." This malapropism provides us a clue into the author's intent, perhaps. The political left (as opposed to the artistic left) is very suspicious of this whole enterprise. Their suspicion of Lee's evil intent equals controversy. Hence, "fallen under suspicion" equals "fallen under controversy."
The next sentence is also quite amusing:
Given that the movie is treading closely to making light of violence, it's not surprising it has been highly controversial since it was announced, with some accusing Lee of trying to exploit the struggles of black Chicagoans for profit.
"Given"! It is a "given" that the movie is "treading closely to making light of violence,"** is it? Interesting. Doubly so since I'd be pretty surprised if the author has seen it; there are zero reviews at Rotten Tomatoes. Seems like the sort of judgment we might want to hold off on. And even if Lee does use humor to make his point—well, what of it? Sometimes a laugh helps the medicine go down.
Let's go on, shall we?
Undeterred by the criticism, Lee recently released a music video tied to the movie.
"Undeterred," eh? I simply cannot believe that this artist did not crumple into a ball when people started whining about his project sight unseen! Artists who fail to pay heed to the mob are double plus ungood, as we know.
Titled "WGDB" (We Gotta Do Better), the lyrics, as laid out by Deadspin, are not good:
Another wonderful little snippet here: "not good." What follows is not an analysis of the music or the rhymes but a simple recitation of political arguments. The lyrics are "not good" because they do not offer support for the correct positions.
That's when I realized, perhaps too late, that this isn't a piece about art—it's a piece about the utility of art. About the ability to use art to drive home a preferred narrative. It's all quite ... Soviet. And, unfortunately, it's all quite unsurprising.
*Do the Right Thing is a masterpiece, 25th Hour was the first, and perhaps only, great post-9/11 film about New York City, Bamboozled is inflammatory and unsubtle but striking and memorable, Inside Man is a really solid heist/thriller and I wish he'd make more stuff like it, and the rest of his work I can take or leave. I've yet to see Chi-Raq.
**Again, just wonderfully phrased: 'treading closely to making' is beautiful.