Perspectives

‘No, Thanks!’
Why I’ll Be Skipping ‘Precious’

by Tonya Pendleton, BlackAmericaWeb.com
I have come to realize that when it comes to most black folks, I’m in the minority.

The prospect of Sheneneh and Wanda (characters made famous by Martin Lawrence and Jamie Foxx) reuniting for a full-length movie doesn’t excite me. I can’t stand “The Real Housewives of Atlanta.” I hated “Flavor of Love.” And while I’ve enjoyed a Tyler Perry movie or two, I can’t relate to Madea. Out of the five grandmothers in my family - including my mother, my sister and my aunt - not a one of them bears even the slightest resemblance to the pistol-packing, housecoat-wearing Madea.

Let’s be clear -- I don’t come from a family of women who grew up in privilege. My aunt and her husband raised eight kids in the projects in Brooklyn. My sister has four different children by four different men and was a homeless drug addict for at least a decade. My niece, a grandmother by marriage, had her first child at age 16.

So, it would seem like I know a little something about the kind of pathological conditions that would create a “Precious: Based on the Novel Push.” But the truth is, I don’t. The bare facts of the information I just shared speak for themselves, but if you knew the women and the situations involved, you would know that black people often defy stereotypes, even when they are in stereotypical situations.

In the movie, as in the 1996 book “Push,” the heroine is 16-year-old Clareece “Precious” Jones, an overweight, dark-skinned, New York City teenager who is being abused by both parents. Her father has impregnated her twice, and her mother, Mary, is verbally, physically and sexually abusive as well. Fortunately, Precious is sent to an alternative school, where a teacher named Blu Rain helps her to find some love within, despite her admittedly horrific circumstances.

All of the above has its importance. To the many African American women who, like Precious, have been marginalized, abused, degraded, disrespected and otherwise wounded and hurt by caretakers and family members, this film may provide a cathartic experience. And the film resonates not just with Black women, but the many victims of abuse across all racial and economic backgrounds.

That’s part of the reason why Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry, both of whom have acknowledged past abuse, embraced “Precious” and helped African American director Lee Daniels get it done.

The fact that a woman like Precious, often ignored and scorned by society at large, is even a topic of discussion is itself a victory. African American women who look that way are not often the topic of any discussion that is not either paternalistic or contemptuous. To see Gabourey Sibide, who herself belies the role she plays in “Precious” in real-life, is to see a young woman who exudes confidence and joy. Her precise diction and confidence in herself and her size -- to the point that she came out dancing exuberantly during her recent “Ellen” appearance -- refutes the idea that a big, black woman has to be ashamed of herself.

I know a fitness trainer who is appalled by the idea that there is any Black woman comfortable being oversized. Of course, without them, he wouldn’t have a job, but I’ve seen photos on his site that have practically invited posters to ridicule overweight Black women. As a woman who’s gained double-digit pounds over the last decade, I feel the sting of those comments, even if I’m not as large as the women pictured are. So, I get the feelings of identification one can have with a “Precious” -- or indeed, as Oprah says, in some ways, “We are all Precious.”

But I won’t be seeing the movie.

I just don’t want to see two hours of cinematic pain and suffering. I really don’t want to see anyone being repeatedly raped, or suffering the kind of abuse that Mary Jones dishes out to her daughter. I’m well known to family and friends as a person who will cry in just about any movie. (Okay, so I did shed a tear in “Polar Express” and in “Star Trek” for the cozy childhood memories they conjured up, so you see how sensitive I can be.) Just seeing Mary Jones, by all accounts played with stunning intensity by the comedienne Mo’Nique, cursing her daughter in the movie’s trailer left me teary-eyed.

And I do have issue with the choice of Paula Patton to play the movie’s life-altering teacher - and not because I don’t recognize the impact that teachers can have on young minds. (I don’t know where my elementary school teachers, Fredi Balzano and Mary Brayboy, are now, but both were African-American, and decades later, I remember them well.) It’s not that the lovely Patton, wife of singer Robin Thicke, doesn’t deserve work; it’s just that it does lend to the idea that White people and light-skinned African Americans are more often the saviors of inner-city children than people who look like them.

I also think that while Daniels loves to dig into uncomfortable places -- and that sometimes we need to –--he often perpetuates the very issues he’s trying to enlighten people about. (“Monster’s Ball” “The Woodsman” and the little-seen “Shadowboxer” are the other movies he’s been involved in as producer or director.) I truly do hate the fact that two African-American filmmakers who’ve done otherwise compelling movies this year have both provided us with a narrow viewpoint of African American issues. (Hey, Chris Rock, there ARE Black women who can naturally grow long hair, as well as others who are happy to be nappy.) And I also hate that, once again, our pathology and dysfunction will be celebrated by the mainstream media and the awards show circuit, who already believe that the Precious and Mary Jones’ of the world are the norm in our communities.

It is clear that the responses to “Precious,” like any piece of art, lie largely with the people who view it. Some people will hate it; some people will hail it - and that is the truth of all artistic work. In my cinematic experiences, I personally don’t need to see ignorance, ugliness, abuse, incest and wounded souls who wound others. I read the news, I observe life and, yes, I live in the inner city.

I commend everyone in the film for what I understand are truly moving performances, and I absolutely believe that regardless of circumstances, self-acceptance and self-love are essential. I’m confident that “Precious” offers all these things. But you’ll have to tell me about it ‘cause you won’t be seeing me in the theater.