What Wednesday #21
Today I go deep on race and poverty, from the clubs of Atlanta to the hills of Kentucky.
What Wednesday is where I talk about what I’m watching, reading, playing, etc, because for some reason I think you’ll find that interesting. If you have recommendations, I’d love to hear them :)
What I’m Watching: Atlanta (FX)
Look, I can’t do this show justice. It’s easily the best new show this year — which is saying something, because I adore Westworld. It’s fresh and raw in a way that’s increasingly difficult in an ever-crowding TV landscape. It’s one of those rare shows that confounds and surprises every week. The most reductive way to describe it is as hip hop Louie, that’s light on the traditional jokes, heavy on the magical realism. It’s more interested in being strange, stretching the limits of comedy to explore themes normally tackled by self-serious indie films.
I loved Community, and Donald Glover was perfect as lovable, dumb Troy, but this one-ups that show with both more powerful drama and sharper moments of hilarity. As The Ringer puts it, Atlanta’s first season “was filled to bursting with great moments. Weird moments, and hilarious moments, and unsettling moments, and flat-out breathtaking ones, too.” If there’s a show that ping pongs more between so many wildly different moods and styles, I haven’t seen it.
In my admittedly limited opinion, black perspectives haven’t had a voice this powerful in the TV landscape since The Wire went off the air almost a decade ago. And that show was run by a white guy. Donald Glover has willed something wonderful and meaningful into existence. And fragile: shows like these don’t tend to come around often or stick around long. Enjoy it for as long as it lasts.
What I’m Also Watching: 13th (Netflix)
The first documentary to make What Wednesday — which is weird, since that’s kinda what I do for a living — deserves all the attention it’s received. Directed by Ava DuVernay, writer/director of the incredible Selma, 13th is about as high quality a doc as you’ll find. I started watching at 2am in bed on my iPad, and while I planned to just watch the first five minutes, I almost finished the whole thing right there. With great production value, cinematography, and editing, it’s a pleasure to watch. Its subject matter — the use of prisons to disenfranchise (primarily) young black men — is less pleasurable.
Obviously, this is a highly charged subject these days, but the movie approaches the topic with a clear head. 13th makes a convincing case that is hard to argue with. Where many other docs distort and omit things to fit their narrative, 13th takes great pains to set its argument within a historical context, using clear, plainly true facts and examples. By the time you make it to this crushing scene that cuts back and forth between violence at Trump rallies and violence at Civil Rights protests in the 60’s, you’ll be hard pressed to disagree with its larger point: we can’t stop putting black people in chains.
For the most part, it didn’t reveal anything I hadn’t already learned from reading and watching John Oliver. But seeing all of it together in one place is really powerful, and I can’t imagine the most ardent opponent of Black Lives Matter walking away thinking our prisons are fine. As the trailer above starts off with, 1 out of every 4 prisoners in the entire world are in the US. We lock up more people than any other country, by far (We’re #1! We’re #1!). And there are more black people in prison now than there ever were in slavery. Refusing to admit we have a problem won’t make those facts less true. Watch it, get educated, and join in the discussion.
What I’m Reading: Hillbilly Elegy, by J.D. Vance (Amazon)
From urban poverty to rural poverty. As someone who grew up in rural North Carolina, I thought I’d be able to relate to this hot new memoir about growing up in hillbilly country. Well, it firmly put one view I had of my hometown to rest: I am not a hillbilly, nor is anyone else I grew up with. The characters that dot these pages are largely unrecognizable to me: murderous uncles and grandparents killing in the name of “honor”; girls married and pregnant at 14; crushing manual laborers that live in even more crushing poverty.
The author, J.D. Vance, was raised in Ohio by Kentucky hillbillies. Unlike so many in his extended family, he “escaped” his roots and even attended Yale Law. He speaks with great insight and empathy into one of the last acceptable targets of societal mocking: hicks. But that empathy doesn’t come without criticism, which actually makes the criticism more effective. The combination of the two makes for a welcome attempt at increasing understanding and growth in a political climate that runs on conflict through difference.
As a current city dweller with complicated feelings on my own rural upbringing, I can relate to his perspective, even if my childhood environment barely resembled his. My hometown is a part of me, but I also reject much of what it stands for now, which can be disorienting. Some of my city friends, mainly those from the north (damn yankees), can be witheringly critical of southern folks. And while much of it is warranted, coming from an outsider, it feels cruel and mean spirited, especially when there is no attempt at understanding. That type of criticism is usually just destructive, without wanting to actually make life better for anyone. The world needs more empathy, not less.
I’m only a quarter of the way through it, so I might come back in the coming weeks with some additional thoughts. As for now, pick it up if you’d like some perspective on an under represented (Larry the Cable Guy does not count) and often reviled class of people. We can all use a little more empathy right now.
