Atlanta Goes Hella Weird
The FX new best show adds a touch of surrealism as it discusses perception of black lives. Oh, and black Justin Bieber.
In the first four episodes, Atlanta established a very particular kind of thematic pacing. Some might (and have) describe it as a show that advances at a speed of a conference call where six participants recite things that could have been put in a two paragraph email to each other and then they realize one dropped off so they have to start all over again. Yet, despite that, the show managed to make it’s crawl speed an advantage. Moving at such a sluggish rate allowed us to really dip into the minutia of our character’s lives, watch the situation unfold from the inside. It allowed the show to paint an accurate representation of characters it was trying to portray.
In the fifth episode, the show takes a wild and unpredictable turn into parts of bizzaro land we’ve never been before. Remember that second season of Mr. Robot… actually, one second.
SPOILERS
Okay, remember that second season of Mr. Robot where about halfway through we find out that Elliot has been in prison and everything we’ve been watching is basically figment of his imagination? To rephrase, thanks for wasting at least 6 hours of your time watching moments so inconsequential to the plot they may as well be from the other show. The foray into this week’s episode of Atlanta felt something like that but for different reasons.
END SPOILERS
Okay, but then so what? Despite putting together a somewhat out of character episode, Atlanta still delivered few poignant points about race and stereotypes in modern America (about that later), except that I couldn’t stop focusing on black Justin Bieber (again, more later). It worked so hard to establish itself as a grounded representation of what life is like on the “come-up,” specifically the part of the come up where you still have to consider if you need studio time or Ramen noodles for dinner more. Episode five felt more grand in its satirical nature, more blown out and established. It felt like something white people would be more comfortable with, which to me was the whole point of Atlanta, making white people uncomfortable and make getting them to start thinking. Now to the episode and the points it tries to make.
Earn and Alfred are at a charity basketball event, which is a huge jump from Earn trying to hustle up $500 dollars to get Paper Boi any kind of radio play (as well as to scorn his white once-upon-a-time-friend and current n-word overuser). The actual moment is jarring because the previous 4 episodes have played out like the dark side of the hustle, and suddenly we are transported to a land where the two (okay, the one, Alfred) are suddenly recognized for what they are. But maybe that is the point, maybe that is a comment on the overwhelming role of public appearances and social media and a stone clad dedication to fabricating faux lifestyles for the gram and the media. Maybe that’s what the episode is getting at. Sorry, it got away from me for a bit.
For Alfred’s part, he confronts the stereotypes of a gangster rapper, which is not necessarily consistent with what we’ve come to expect. As a person, he exhibits a jovial satisfaction with his place, that is he is actually happy to be here. You can tell he is looking forward to the game. Unfortunately, no one is interested in him having fun. My friend once attend an NYC brand launch event with Rick Ross there and while looking at photos all I can think about was 1) holy shit, Rick Ross is actually wearing a fried chicken wing necklace and I couldn’t make this up in my wildest fantasy and 2) look at how happy he is. Alfred is a lot of 2).
Unfortunately, no one is interested in 2). He is a trap rapper, he isn’t supposed to be happy, or down to earth, or offering reporters to interview him somewhere fly, like Benihana. Alfred is a gangster rapper first and foremost and he has to “play his part.” It’s a weird reflection contrasted with the appearance of the “black Justin Bieber,” which happens to be one of the most surreal moments on the show (and given that we watch Darius every week, that’s saying something). Black Justin is pretty much actual JB during the meltdown state of his life. He is having fun, pissing in hallways and overall shows a complete disregard for how a well adjusted human is supposed to function or interact with other humans. (Sidenote: the “is it too late to say Sorry” moment was delightful). All of this is, of course, culminates in the eventual showdown with Paper Boi who seems particularly vexed that he can’t get any love while a prancing buffoon gets all of this. In the end though, the status quo is restored and Justin comes out a “changed man” with a new single. All in a days work.
There is an important point here about perceptions and stereotypes and how we see what we want to see of a subculture. We consume elements of it without really showing a particular interest as a whole. We dilute people to 3/4th of a human being discarding aspects of their personality we don’t much care about or don’t want to confront in the fear of it making us uncomfortable. Which is kind of bullshit on our part, but also kind of looses it’s resonance give that Paper Boi did in fact shoot a man and did in fact fight a teenager as a grown-ass human in the middle of a charity event. You can’t preach about how you’re sensitive when you’re doing all of those things. You can’t have it both ways homie. So in a way, Paper Boi is trapped in his lifestyle which seeps into his persona, making it harder to escape that image day to day as it’s been stamped on him by culture.
Earn encounters a different kind of racism in his brief appearance at the charity event. He is mistaken for another black person, an agent and invited to join the rest of the agents upstairs. Ever the opportunist (Hennessy and Grand Marnier my dude) Earn jumps on this chance to make new contacts. Sure, he doesn’t have a business card, but he can always take yours and call you back. I am not sure how much he learns about the business, but he definitely learns about agent parties and the crumbling perceptions of the agent world. That however, is not the point.
The point is, a grown ass white woman can look at a black man and see any black man she wants. In my mind, Earn’s “doppelganger” Alonso looks nothing like him. Imagine him a foot taller, with a nice fade and a wearing some sort of glasses. It doesn’t matter. As weeks in the media prove, black people have become a de facto boogeyman for the white community. The truth of the matter, and what Atlanta tackles so deftly here, is that when we see a person of color, we encounter the color first and all the defining characteristics later. We don’t ever get to meet Alonso so I don’t get to confirm my theory, but given Earn’s distinct look at the “agents’ symposium” I will venture that Alonso looks nothing like him and the agent, who is a disheveled and clearly halfway through a cycle of substance abuse white woman cares not to make differentiation between two people of color. Especially when Earn tells her he’s not who she thinks he is.
The episode ends it’s “public perception” trifecta with a crowning short-stint appearance from Darius (which is a role I am already quietly printing flyers for in underground basements to get Keith Stanfield nominated for something. Being neither a notable rapper or a make-belief (sorry Earn) agent, Darius does not get an invite to ball out with Lloyd and Jaleel White. Instead he goes to the shooting range. Here, the most poignant moment of Atlanta’s fifth episode plays out.
Instead of using a human target, Darius decides to use a cutout of a dog to practice shooting and what do you know, two white dudes who look like they’ve at least entertained the thought of romancing their respective cousins take offense to him trying to turn Beethoven into a sieve. “What if I bring my kid here?” says one of them… Which 1) if you even entertain a thought of bringing your child to a firing range then I feel there should be a child services intervention held at your RV park and 2) as Darius quickly points out, why is it cool to practice on human targets but suddenly when Lassie is up there it’s a moral and ethical dilemma. The point is further driven home when two Muslim patrons (probably the biggest knock on Atlanta is how they handle this stereotype) point out that Daddy Redneck has been practicing his aim on a target that looks ethnic and most likely Hispanic.
That is the crux of our perception idea. It’s not cool to shoot a dog even though, to Darius’ point, dogs attack people and in the hood, there are some mean dogs that you should probably worry about, but a human target is perceptively okay. That’s some some ole bullshit logic reasoning. Atlanta makes it’s point, in very subtle terms but it gets there. In the eyes of Daddy Redneck a human life of someone of an ethnic origin is worth less than the cardboard cut out of a box. Think about it, we’ve spent weeks talking about what a simple act of taking a knee means to your patriotic values choosing to ignore what the act itself stemmed from (shooting of innocent black civilians). We saw at least 2 more shootings in the past week. Actual, human shootings, but “I’ll be fucked if I let you shoot a paper cut out of a dog.” And that boys and girls is the biggest lesson about perception of black identity and blackness of America has to teach this week and we can only hope you were here to learn.
Luckily, the show isn’t done either. See you on the flip next week.
