“Do the Right Thing”… 20 Years Later
This week marks the 20th anniversary of Spike Lee’s film, “Do the Right Thing,” according to an interesting AP article with reflections from Lee and others on the movie.
In addition to making me feel kinda old (I was in high school at the time), this milestone brings back a flood of memories and feelings from my first viewing. I didn’t see it in the theater but caught it on video a year or two later. I suppose a spoiler alert is advisable, although I would think the statute of limitations has run out after 20 years.
I loved the movie. It was vibrant, tough, tender, and funny. The characters were larger than life, yet recognizable and real. Watching Mookie navigate the combustible tensions and complex relationships in the neighborhood was fascinating. The movie sets up the conflict and Mookie’s final choice about as overtly as possible, never more so than with Radio Raheem’s massive Love/Hate rings and accompanying monologue. “One hand is always fighting the other hand; and the left hand is kicking much ass. I mean, it looks like the right hand, Love, is finished. But, hold on, stop the presses, the right hand is coming back…”
I had a very hard time with the ending. I think I understand it, at least as much as a white guy from the suburbs can. But I disagree with it. I don’t think Mookie should have thrown the trash can. I say that not as a white person, but as a human being.
According to Wikipedia’s entry on the film, Spike Lee stated in an interview appearing on the DVD that he “believes the key point is that Mookie was angry at the death of Radio Raheem, and that viewers who question the riot’s justification are implicitly valuing white property over the life of a black man.” He’s the writer/director, so I can’t argue with him on Mookie’s motivation. But I can and do reject his characterization of mine.
I choose Love. I reject Hate. And I hope I would say that regardless of my skin color.
Here’s one reason why: I’ve seen it work. At the time the movie came out, I was a student at Cincinnati’s School for Creative and Performing Arts (SCPA). Located near downtown, it was a magnet school with a remarkably diverse student body from all over the city. It was the most integrated environment I’ve ever experienced. I’m not talking about “some of my best friends…” tokenism nonsense. It was genuine and pervasive. We simply didn’t care much about our surface differences. We had colorblind casting in our stage productions. We connected and befriended and dated across races. It wasn’t until I graduated and went off to college and work that I came to understand how special that environment was.
Some (many?) people would say that Love works just fine at SCPA, but SCPA’s not the real world. My response is that the “real world” will never look like SCPA as long as people choose Hate. It’s easy to Hate. And there’s no shortage of reasons to Hate in this world. There will always be a reason to throw the trash can or worse, whether in Bed-Stuy or Northern Ireland or Gaza. Hate, even when understandable or even justifiable, only breeds more Hate.
Love is much harder, but it’s worth it. I’m talking about Love backed by resolve, empathy, self-respect, and action. It is almost always more effective, in the long run.
And that’s the triple truth, Ruth.
Devon, I have shared your frustration with Mookie since I watched DDRT in a film class in college. Surely there must be a better way, right? Can’t we always choose love and never hate? My recent intercultural interactions have pushed me to consider the situation in different ways.
First of all, for most of my life, I have tried to universalize my perceptions of the world. Your statement, “I say that not as a white person, but as a human being,” is a very familiar one. What I have learned, though, is that everything I say, I say, not just as a white person, but as a white man. In this culture, everything about who I am coincides with power. My whiteness, my maleness, my middle class upbringing, even my height all are granted more value by our society. As a result, every encounter I have is influenced by those power dynamics. How do people view me? How do I view them? Who has the biggest megaphone? For example, my wife and I want our relationship to be one in which we have equal power, not one in which I lead because I’m male. That said, when she says something, I take it as a suggestion. When I say something, even if I mean it to be a suggestion, she takes it as a declaration. Why? We have both been told things about how to interact all our lives in a million different ways and she has learned to submit to men and I have learned that I don’t have to. We don’t like it. We’re working against it, but it is there. This doesn’t make your perspective more or less right or wrong. It just means that you are speaking as a white man, not a generic human. More that that, you are speaking as a white man with your experiences, including those at SCPA. Your subjectivity isn’t limited to your physiology, but those physiological differences have sociological implications.
The other thing that I want to point out is that the act of throwing the trash can, while an act of violence, need not be viewed solely as an act of hate. Given that he wrote, directed, and played Mookie, I think we must yield to Spike Lee about Mookie’s motivation, but even within that, there is more to be said. We must remember that Radio Raheem’s death was an unnecessary and senseless killing. The police had clearly subdued Raheem and one cop is even telling the one applying the choke hold to let up. Raheem was clearly fighting back, but who can blame him for doing so. I cannot believe that his experience of the police is in any way one which would engender trust. Regardless, he is in their control. What consequences will they face for killing a black man? None. The cops will say he was fighting back and that they had to apply force to gain control and he died during the scuffle. They will forget that one person was saying to let up and that the offending cop told him to “Shut the f*ck up!” It is easy to say, “Choose love,” by which you really mean “Choose non-violence,” when neither you nor those like you are being oppressed and murdered. It is a different thing when you feel your life is threatened. The destruction of the pizzeria was one of a very limited number of options available to the community to have their voices heard and to call to account the establishment that killed him. Sal didn’t kill Raheem, but he was part of the establishment that did. If we only view the characters as individuals, the destruction of the pizzeria is a senseless act of destruction. If we view the situation systemically, it was an act of self-defense by a community under attack. Particularly, given that African-American culture tends to be more communal than Anglo-American culture, I think it is safe to read the film with this subtext.
Devon,
“And I hope I would say that regardless of my skin color.” I think you’re one of the few people I know who can say that genuinely.
So I understand what you mean.
Only, in this case I don’t think it’s hate. As someone else has already pointed out, it’s a case of self-defense. I think it’s also a release mechanism for pent-up anger and frustration, by a segment of society that rarely, if ever, has been given a chance to have it’s side of the story heard, must less listened to.
I’m hardly qualified to quote Gandhi (who had his share of faults) but in this instance I think he got it right - “hate the sin, love the sinner”. The riot wasn’t about attacking Sal. It’s about attacking the system, or at least the symbol of that system in their neighborhood.
(I also think that’s the difference between the violence in Iran, Gaza, Pakistan, etc. and say, Rwanda)