By: Mitali Perkins,
on 7/24/2012
Some of you may have already seen this, but this video is a classic example of how humor can be used effectively to discuss cultural stereotypes (as we're hoping to do in our forthcoming YA anthology from Candlewick, tentatively titled OPEN MIC).
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 1/13/2011
The Bechdel Test challenges us to ask three simple questions about films:
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 6/23/2009
At first glance, Gran Torino might seem like another one of those white men saves the day kind of stories that spew out of Hollywood on a regular basis. But it's not. It's a movie about how crossing borders to encounter the personal and particular, as Hazel Rochman put it, can "save" the racist in all of us.
Clint Eastwood liked the script by Nick Schenk, a rookie screenwriter based in Minnesota, so much that he didn't allow a single word to be changed. Schenk credits the friendships he made while on the job, both with war veterans and Hmong factory workers, as inspiration for the story he wrote with his brother's buddy Dave Johannson.
How did the brown people portrayed in the film view this story by a white writer? Asian Week covered the Hmong community's reaction to the film. The general response of Hmong moviegoers has been positive, and (but?) eastwoodmovie-hmong.com, a blog that was critical of the movie, has disappeared.
Two Hmong-American guys, Cedric N. Lee and Mark D. Lee filmed, directed, and produced a documentary about the making of the blockbuster. It's called Gran Torino: Next Door? and is available only on the June 9, 2009 Blu-ray disc release of the Eastwood movie. Here's the preview of Gran Torino, which I recommend as a must-see for those of us who cross borders in our storytelling. Who saves whom, and how, and why?
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 4/30/2009
One of my pet peeves is when a gatekeeper doesn't represent, publish, promote, or buy a great teen or tween novel featuring a nonwhite protagonist because "that's such a small slice of the market" or "we just don't have that population in our community."
That's old school, people, for two reasons.
(1) Do YOU read only those books featuring protagonists who share your particular mix of class, ethnicity, and educational status? Oh, so you're reading your autobiography again and again, then? Compelling reads are supposed to take us across borders, and that's why we adult readers love them. Why should young readers be any different?
(2) Checked the youth market lately? Tune into MTV or the Disney Channel and do an ethnic survey. Or watch the movie version of Twilight. When Ms. Meyer set her story in the small town of Forks, Washington, were you picturing the multicultural group of high-schoolers who appear in the film version? A cast like that is fairly standard for young Hollywood these days, and teens and tweens in urban, suburban, and rural North American communities expect it on the big and small screen. Why not on the page?
We can write race all we want, but until excellent, entertaining fiction with a mosaic of protagonists, antagonists, and sidekicks are sent from the publishing houses into the mass market, the book industry is stuck in a last-gen world.
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 4/24/2009
Disney's first Black princess is voiced by Anika Noni Rose. Rose grew up outside Hartford, Connecticut in the community of Bloomfield, so she's from New England, but she sustains a Bostwanan accent in HBO's No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency as Grace Makutsi. You can get a taste of Rose's New Orleans spin on Princess Tiana's voice in the teaser:
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 2/27/2009
I've heard three kinds of complaints about the Oscar-winning film, Slumdog Millionaire. Here's my rebuttal to each criticism, because guess what? I liked the film.
(1) "Unrealistic."
Of course it was improbable, Mr. Rushdie. Escapist fantasy mandates good triumphing over evil. One can survive a crawl from a toilet through excrement thanks to the power of love, while the love of power leads to death in a bathroom.
(2) "Exploitative."
The torture and suffering of children don't make it an easy view, so did Slumdog use poverty, orphans, and children as lazy storytelling techniques to elicit compassion and connection from rich viewers? What was it like to view it as a resident in Mumbai's Juhu slum, where much of the film was shot?
Hmmm.
The "poverty porn" accusation did give me pause, but after reflection, I don't believe the film made this fatal error. The first reason is because it was a fairy tale, which requires an amping up of villainy and suffering before arriving at the eventual happy ending. The residents of Juhu seem to get this, and are celebrating the film's success.
Second, I felt the story ultimately respected children, and that's the main reason I enjoyed it. Slumdog makes it clear that children with or without power and privilege in every corner of the planet dream, love, laugh, err, forgive, weep, and make heartbreaking moral choices.
In a world that consistently overlooks, undervalues, and demeans children, what's wrong with that?
As I left the theater, I pictured the countless young faces I'd passed by in the slums and streets of Bengal, regretting that I hadn't taken the time to hear and know and share their stories, and hoping to have another chance someday.
(3) "A western view of India."
Let's say instead that Slumdog offers a between-cultures view of humanity.
England's Simon Beaufoy adapted India's Vikas Swarup's Q&A, bringing a stronger narrative arc to what was a collection of short stories. Swarup, a high-flying diplomat based in Pretoria, supported Beaufoy's screenplay despite some key changes made to his book. (Most intriguing was a switch in the main character's name, changed from the "every Indian" Hindu-Muslim-Christian Ram Mohammad Thomas to Jamal Malik, resulting in the boy's Muslim mother being killed by Hindus.)
Another cross-cultural partnership took place in the directing. The film's co-director, Loveleen Tandan (who worked on Namesake and Monsoon Wedding with Mira Nair), negotiated back and forth with Danny Boyle, melding the best storytelling techniques from both worlds to create a universal fairy tale.
My parents saw the film in California last week, and I asked if they thought it made India look bad.
"Not at all," my Mom retorted with pride. "What other country in the world could develop so far and so fast given so much poverty and corruption to overcome? Only our India."
Her main criticism was with A.R. Rahman's soundtrack. An accomplished harmonium player and singer, Ma felt the award-winning soundtrack didn't resonate enough with the richness and depth of classical Indian music. That response, of course, reflects a generational difference around music that's taking place both in India and in the west.
My only niggle with the film? Latika's gradual loss of spunk and verve throughout the story, resulting in yet another portrayal of a helpless South Asian female victimized and rescued by men. Sigh. Enough said.
Otherwise, it was a feel-good between-cultures fantasy that respected children and showed off the strength and creativity of my country of origin. What's not to like?
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 9/2/2008
Here's the next installment in the Fire Escape's summer series of ten questions to ask about a story. This time, let's get physical.
Question Six: How is race described?
We've talked before about the dilemma of writing race on the Fire Escape. Remember the description of perfect physical beauty in Pretties, Uglies, and Extras, the futuristic sci-fi trilogy by Scott Westerfeld, with straight hair (not kinky) and wide eyes (not squinty) as that evil society's ideal? Remember the wide range of phrases J.K. Rowling wielded when white people emoted in Harry Potter, while characters like Parvati, Padma, and Lee Jordan were never able to blush or pale?
And then there are the tired clichés that have long cued race in our culture. I'm talking about coffee-colored skin, high cheekbones, flat noses, big lips, almond eyes. Ask yourself if the storyteller has stretched the language to come up with fresh terms or is relying on overused, boring descriptors.
Last but not least, try this exercise. If you've recently read a story where race isn't particularly defined, how did you picture the characters? Try imagining them as members of various races and be truthful with yourself about how you're affected.
One of the reasons I don't like movie adaptations of my favorite books is because when I read the book, I am usually still in charge of the race of the characters. In the film version of the Lord of the Rings, for example, I was surprised to find myself jarred by a white Bilbo and Frodo, taken aback by a white Gandalf, and worst of all, turned off by an Aragorn who didn't match the brown hero of my adolescent dreams. If a teen watches the film version before reading the book, isn't his ability to imagine someone like himself in the story overpowered by the race of the actors?
The virtual version of 10 Questions to Ask About a Story closes with #6. For the rest of the list, why not attend YALSA's inaugural Young Adult Literature Symposium this November 7-9 in Nashville? Early bird registration ends today, September 1st -- you can save up to 25% over advanced and onsite registration fees. Registration for the symposium is available at www.ala.org/yalitsymposium. Questions? Contact YALSA at [email protected] or 1-800-545-2433, ext. 4390.
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 6/24/2008
As I watched CAMP ROCK, Disney Channel's smash hit made-for-television movie, I found myself asking Question Number Two in my on-going series of ten questions. (Note to first time Fire Escape visitors: these relate to stuff I notice about a story, whether it comes via screen or in print, because of the strange between-cultures lenses I can't seem to take off.)
Question Two: Is ethnicity used to cue either a “good” or “bad” character trait?
Today's storytellers are spearheading a strange stage in the history of American culture. It strikes me as a correction to the historical overlooking of non-white people in books and movies. What's happening now is that if you're lazy with story, you'll use race, ethnicity, or class to inform a young audience how to feel about your characters. We're trying to train a whole generation to equate WHITE/RICH with BAD, and BROWN/BLACK/POOR with good -- although I'm not sure they're buying it. The problem is that as a storytelling mechanism, this new trick is as simple and stupid as the old one.
In CAMP ROCK, one can feel the careful casting and the intentionality of each actor's race. The villain is blonde (Meaghan Jette Martin) and the hero Latina (Demi Lovato). The antagonist's allies are an African-American girl who chooses emancipation to win the singing contest (Jasmine Richards) and a mixed-race ditzy chick (Anna Maria Perez de Tagle) who also ends up renouncing oppression and stepping out on her own.
Oh, quit whining, you might be thinking, at least they're including heroes who aren't white. That's good, right?
Yes, I'm glad Disney's come a long way from the days of African-American voices cast as human-wannabe monkeys or jobless crows. And peering over my between-cultures bifocals, CAMP ROCK was lively, good-hearted, and entertaining.
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 6/13/2008
I'm presenting "BOOKS BETWEEN CULTURES" to the Waltham librarians today, and as I looked over my notes, I thought my Fire Escape visitors might appreciate knowing the ten questions I encourage readers or filmgoers to ask when they're consuming a story. (I'll post one at a time randomly through the summer, so check for the label/tag "Ten Critical Questions.")
With my strange between-cultures lenses in place, here's a question that pops into my head while I'm reading a story or watching a flick:
Question One: Are the multicultural characters in the story one-dimensional (ie., only allowed to be noble, good, wise, etc.)?
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 12/3/2007
Ben Joseph over at Cracked makes me feel better about my recent Enchanted rant, providing clips and commentary on nine racist Disney characters. We are not alone.
Source: Cartoon Brew
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 11/27/2007
It's not that I didn't enjoy this sweet film. It's not that the characters, music, and script didn't captivate me. It's just that I can't leave my bleeping between cultures bifocals at home.
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 4/22/2007
My sister and I visited our parents this past weekend in California. One of our goals was to convince them to experience Mira Nair's film cross-generationally — an experience highly recommended by several South Asian friends.
The challenge was that my parents never go to the movie theater. After we'd wheedled and begged for a while, they finally agreed to go this time because (a) our beloved city of Kolkata appears in The Namesake and (b) Bangla, our language, also co-stars, since Jhumpa Lahiri, the novel's author, is Bengali.
But this once-in-a-lifetime event was not to be. We'd just settled ourselves in our seats when an usher announced that the projector's bulb had suddenly burned out with no chance of a fix. I exchanged a look of disgust with my sister.
Ma and Baba could tell we were disappointed. "We'll go to the cinema the next time you come," Baba promised.
"But The Namesake won't be around then," my sister said.
"And you guys won't ever go to a movie theater again, I just know it," I added skeptically.
"Oh, yes we will," Ma said. "And soon, too."
"When? When will we ever hear Bangla in an American feature movie again? Or see scenes from Bengal on the big screen?"
"When they make a film out of one of your books," Ma answered, her voice ringing with the delusional maternal conviction that demolishes rational argument. "Now let's go home and relax."
And that's exactly what we did.
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 3/14/2007
By now (via Wonderland or Fuse) you've probably heard about the new animated movie coming from Disney in 2009 featuring Maddy, an African-American princess. I'm curious to see how they cast the film, and especially how they decide to voice this character. Will she sound Southern since the setting is New Orleans? Will she have an "articulate" voice? (If you're wondering why I put the word in quotes, read this wonderful article by Lynette Clemson in the February 4, 2007 issue of the New York Times called The Racial Politics of Speaking Well.)
Accents in animated films have always fascinated me. In Disney's Lion King, for example, while the child actor who portrayed Nala (Niketa Calame) and the singing voice of Simba (Jason Weaver) had African-American voices, the speaking Simba (Jonathan Taylor Thomas) and the adult versions were white (Matthew Broderick and Moira Kelly, respectively). Anyone else think it strange that a black lioness grows up to be white, and that when the cub sings he switches races?
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 3/12/2007
I'm posting from KnowFat! restaurant in Bedford, Massachusetts, where I stopped on the way back from an author appearance in Carlisle. (I'm doing a flurry of school visits -- Wednesday, Wickford, RI, Friday, Andover, MA, etcetera -- don't panic, editors, if you're checking in, I'm still carving out time to write.)
On another note, here's a great review for teens of the movie Namesake from Word, the official blog of Weekly Reader's Writing Magazine, written by Sandhya Nankani. And check out this touching account of Ms. Lahiri's parents seeing the film.
Trivia: Did you know that Jhumpa Lahiri officially uses her nickname because a kindergarten teacher opted not to call her "Neelanjana" or "Sudeshna," which were her two legal names? After this discussion, though, I've decided to veer away from a recent surge of cynicism and give people the benefit of the doubt, so perhaps the teacher was trying to ease the to-school transition by using the at-home pet name. And then it stuck.
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 3/6/2007
By: Mitali Perkins,
on 2/15/2007
While we're chatting about books made into films, you publisher-slash-editor types out there should take note of Christopher Zallas' Sundance-winning movie Padre Nuestro:
Fleeing a pack of henchman on the Mexican side of the border, Juan hops a truck transporting illegals from Mexico to New York City. En route he befriends Pedro, an innocent from central Mexico who is headed to New York to seek his rich restaurateur father, Diego. Pedro shows Juan a sealed letter that his mother, now dead, has given him--an introduction to the father he never knew. When the truck pulls into New York City, Pedro wakes to find both his belongings and his new friend gone without a trace. He is cast onto the street and stumbles around, lost in an unknown city. Juan, meanwhile, shows up at Diego's door with the letter, claiming to be his long-lost son, Pedro.Sounds like a gripping YA read or graphic novel to me, but perhaps the contracts have been signed months ago and I'm behind the times. Here's a clip, if you're interested. Add a Comment
I love it!