Old Issues, New Light in August Wilson’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
Those of us in the young adult age range are influenced by hip-hop music and pop culture. Our minds are drawn to Black artists like Kendrick Lamar, Drake, Juice Wrld, and Kanye as the leading forces in the music industry. Yet, as of 2017, 80% of the music industry as a whole was still white. Shocking, I know.
August Wilson directly attacks this issue in his play Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. Growing up biracial, Wilson knew the toll a person of color faced. His play emphasized the dilemma and showed the public the truth behind the business side of music. As the industry today is still dominated by a majority white race, director George C. Wolfe saw Wilson’s work of art as an opportunity for a newly awakened revival when he went about the production of a film adaption.
Not only was his rendition of the masterpiece the last work we’d ever see from the late Chadwick Boseman, but it brings Wilson’s play to life in a new way that does justice to the play, to civil rights, and the music industry.
From the start, Wilson draws in the audience as he ponders the horrors of the music industry. He saw that what may seem ordinary to the casual viewer of this time frame can be packed with emotion. This beauty is reflected through the mundane ideas in the play. As Ma Rainey, a famous Black Blues singer, is in a simple recording studio ready to perform, the play centers around the drama and heated tempers between the musicians in her band. This simplistic scenery tears the audience’s heart for the music industry as it shows the pain and terror the members in the play go through. As Ma refers to herself saying, “Ma don’t stand for no shit” she portrays her strength, however, while standing up to a White man belittling her in the studio. Just as rare, Levee, a young trumpet player in the band screams his passion against the White man as he tells the story of his childhood bout with White men. Wilson conveys so much emotion as Levee speaks, “There was my mama with a gang of white mens” and they “reached back and grabbed hold of that knife and whacked me across the chest with it”. Wilson wrote with his heart on his sleeve, bringing to light the horrors black people endured. While he used simplistic means to get these thought-provoking messages into the eyes of the public, the delivery wavered at times. The key points were highly moving, yet the build-up was far too drawn out and at times felt monotonous. This is what the film would later improve.
August Wilson laid the base with a play that left viewers under a haze of contemplation over the injustices within society, and director George C. Wolfe built upon this when crafting the film adaptation. His choice of actors showed the magnitude of his directing credibility. As Chadwick Boseman performed as Levee, I was left with chills multiple times throughout the film. The heart he can display was magnified in his role. He screams at God, “Come on! You coward mother f*cker!”. His rage against how the industry was treating his people was startling, yet captivating.
On another note, my attention was drawn to a less chaotic conversation in the film. As Ma (Viola Davis) and Cutler (Colman Domingo) discuss the injustices of their race at the time, Ma says something that I overlooked in the play. When she says, “as soon as they get my voice on one of them recording machines, they ain’t got no use for me then,” we realize that the entire film is based around this simple concept. It’s essentially just White men trying to make some cash. This mundane notion has the power to transform viewers’ minds.
Just as transforming is George C. Wolfe’s ability to elevate monotonous and easy ideas to a level of such brilliancy. In the print play version, the absence of music isn’t noticeable. Now, after watching the movie, it seems wrong to read it without the music. The film uses music as the symbolic message between the outside world and the tense walls of the recording studio. Similarly, the color of the outside world represents a lively and flourishing community, yet inside, it’s dark, bland, and full of despair. All in all, I loved how the film amplified the overall plot through genius actors and actresses, brought light to more controversial/pressing issues, and added its own flavor to magnify the viewing pleasure. These wonderful things won’t excuse, however, some of the points the film completely neglected.
While the film tended to enhance certain scenes and concepts, there was a section completely left out. This single conversation left the film with an entirely different tone. In Wilson’s play, Slow Drag (played by Michael Potts), the bass player, is seen as a jolly character due to the way he got his name. The humor and wit from the creative way Wilson portrayed Slow Drag always left me smiling. For instance, we see Slow Drag as a big goofball when he remarks, “Boy that mama was hot! The front of her dress was wet as a dishrag!”. Yet, in the film, there was no mention of his jovial character. He was always some sort of comedic relief, and without these scenes, the film was left as just dark and gruesome. On top of this, Wolfe adds a scene that didn’t come from the original at all. We see, in the end, white men taking advantage of Levee as they sing his song. While this scene is beneficial and shows the injustices, it too takes away some of the lighter tones I enjoyed from the play. I felt left with a sense of hopelessness and a lack of joy compared to the small amounts the play script provided.
These small things had the power to annoy my inner critic, yet as a whole, the film left me in awe. For those who can relate to me as seeing the music industry as quite diverse, watching this film will open your eyes to the reality of the horrors black artists have gone through and will continue to face.
