Hampton06

One night recently after a particularly exhausting day at my "real" job, I headed out to Hollywood to perform a monologue at the M Bar. It was a benefit for Wordspace, a writer’s studio/workspace in Los Angeles. The bar was draped in burgundy velvet. It was like I’d stepped back in time to 1982; it had a nostalgic cabaret vibe. Sitting in a booth in the back of the room, watching the other performers, I felt like that Sally Field character in the film "Punchline".

In the movie, she was a housewife by day and an aspiring comedian by night. I am by no means a housewife, but I do have a day job and though I have a way of making people laugh, I'm not quite comedian. I’m a storyteller. As I sat there in this half full room, full of half eager audience members, I realized that I was living in two different worlds. One is a world driven by the necessity, the other driven by spirit. I don’t know what else to call it other than spirit. Wanting, or needing to write and tell stories, just doesn’t make logical sense. Chances are you won’t make money at it. It can be emotionally draining and frustrating. If you are truly a writer you don’t question it, you just do it.

On that evening, after leaving a day of work, in a field that I have attained a fair amount of success in, I slipped on my jeans and skull-cap and waited for my ten minutes onstage. Sitting there I realized that I have that same sense of duality that Sally had in that movie. I am two completely different people. Each of these Phill’s has a different stance, a different look and energy. One isn't neccessarily better than the other. They're just different. The “real” job Phill, is fairly simple. He shows up, does his job and goes home. It’s the “writer” Phill, that makes things complicated.

Why do I do it? Why put myself through the long nights, rejection, criticisim. I write because I have to. It all starts with the page. Sure, Regina King was brilliant in “Ray” and the cinematography was phenomanoll in “Hustle and Flow”; but neither the performance, or the technical work exists without the script. I’m a writer, so I am admittedly biased, but there is nothing scarier than looking at a blank page.

I moved to Los Angeles right after college. I planned on being the next Spike Lee. I was certain that it would only be a matter of months before I had my first deal and shooting my first movie. I ended up working in Wilson’s Suede and Leather instead. There I was in Los Angeles, in August trying to sell leather coats. I’m not selling leather coats anymore, but sometimes, as I navigate the industry as a writer, I wish that I was.

I’ve been asked to do many things as a writer in order to meet the needs of an agent, network, production company etc. In film school, I was pulled aside by a workshop professor if it was neccessary for the characters in my script to be black. She quickly explained that if I wasn’t going to “hip-hop” it up, I may as well make them white, since they “sounded white” anyway. She thought she was being helpful.

The bottom line for studios, they want to make money. It’s a business. Unfortunately for writers telling stories with black people that don’t follow the current formula (2 parts Music Star, 1 part Soundtrack, 1 part Neck-rolling), there isn’t much room. As easy as it is to blame studios and networks for this, I think there’s a different place to point our collective fingers – at ourselves.

Every time we buy a movie ticket, we are casting a ballot for what types of movies Hollywood will produce. “Something New” opened recently to lackluster box office. The film isn’t the best movie to hit the screens, but it is a breathe of fresh air. None of the lead actors have ever had a song on the Billboard charts. That alone is a miraculous feat. The characters, while upper middle-class, aren’t caricatures. The script was nuanced with subtle references that made it clear that it was from an authentic place. Above all, it was entertaining. Why did it open at only $5 million? For that matter, where are the writers/directors of “Love Jones” and “Eve’s Bayou”? Why does any of this matter?

I suppose that truthfully, it only matters if quality matters to you and not quantity. “Love Jones” made about twelve million dollars at the box office. That’s it. “Diary of a Mad Black Woman” made about sixty million. SIXTY MILLION. “Love Jones” is a classic. It was well written and well acted. The writer/director of that film has not done much since that film. Kasi Lemmons, the writer/director of “Eve’s Bayou”, hasn’t had the career you’d expect for someone who produced one of the most successful independent films of all time. Our great grandchildren however, will be going to see “Madea Goes to Space” in the year 2056.

So as I sat there in the half full M Bar, I was happy to just share and to be around other people who love writing and telling good stories. I try not to worry too much about the box office and the affect it has on me and other writers attempting to do original work. I suppose black jazz artists would like to see more black faces at their concerts. My guess is that black authors, would like to see fewer of us buying the bad Terry McMillian and Eric Jerome Dickey knock-offs that line bookstore shelves. I am certain that black college presidents would love to see its Alumni spend less time worrying about Homecoming and more time concerned about the school’s endowment.

In the end I suppose it doesn’t much matter what people are going to see the theaters, or watch on TV. If it’s real, you do it whether it makes sixty million dollars at the box office, or if you just end up reading your words in a half full room covered in burgundy velvet.