Black Nerd Problems

by William Evans

  I still learned how to enjoy the films though, you just gotta temper your expectations. Selene the type of person you make pay up front when you splitting the meal. Don’t ever let a Selene type go second in the “I’ll do you, you do me” scenario. Ain’t nobody trying to be intimate with someone carrying the enthusiasm of a bus stop when it’s their turn to put in work. You can’t let a Selene be your agent if you ever want to get booked for any gigs. You gotta meet people where they at, and Selene ain’t never gonna be in the cheerleading section. Or anyone’s hype woman onstage. You call Selene when you think you did something stupid and you need validation and she gonna be like, “Ehh.” You don’t call Selene when you accomplished something big to share the news cuz she gonna be like, “Ehh.” As long as you know this going in, the films are still watchable. Well… mostly.

  It looks like Underworld: Blood Wars was the end of the line. For Underworld. For bored badass Kate. I hope so, fam. Not because I need the Underworld films to stop, but because I know what it’s like when you have to do some shit you don’t want to do so that you can do what you want to do. I don’t know what Kate wants to do, but it obviously ain’t this shit. Be warned, Evangeline Lilly, this could happen to you. Just because you’re a gorgeous and athletic white woman who can do action doesn’t mean you gotta cash in for bad movies. Choose projects you want moving forward. Remember, Beckinsale and Biel did that so hopefully you won’t have to go through that.

  As for Blood Wars, did I see it? Yeah. Selene’s apathy just made me want to be there to comfort her more. I didn’t try to hold her hand though. She’d probably forget I was there ten minutes later anyway.

  An Open Letter to Gohan: You Gonna Stop Being Trash Anytime Soon or Nah?

  OMAR HOLMON, aka Senzu Bean Beyond Burger

  I—I DON’T EVEN know how to begin this, because thirteen-year-old me can’t come to terms with the situation. Lemme start this off by saying Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z are staples of anime fighting shows. The lead protagonist Goku and his friends basically beat people’s ass who try to take over Earth or destroy the universe. Damn near every fight has him power up to a new form capable of beating his tough opponents. That is the Dragon Ball franchise in a nutshell, as best as I can even hope to describe it (use Google for the CliffsNotes). So, I was eating cereal watching the new Dragon Ball Super, seeing Goku and enemy turned rival and friend Vegeta transform beyond Super Saiyan God mode, fight mofos from a different universe, meet the king of all twelve universes, and get the fucking Super Dragon Balls. I’m like, gotdamn they’re doing the most, then I noticed two things: one, there weren’t enough raisins in my Raisin Nut Bran cereal (y’all slacking), and two, where the hell was Gohan?

  Gohan wasn’t around at all? Then I heard it mentioned in passing that dude had a business meeting he couldn’t get out of… *wipes hands down face* Yo, this has been a long time coming and I hate to be the one to bring it up, but it’s time someone said aloud that Gohan straight up let the DBZ fandom down. Well, maybe it’s the fandom’s fault. Way back, Gohan’s dad, Goku, sacrificed himself against a strong enemy named Cell during the Cell Games Saga. Gohan beat Cell and that was supposed to be the baton pass for Gohan to replace his dad as Earth’s top fighter and protector. The fandom wanted Goku back tho, so when the Majin Buu Saga came, Goku took center stage again and Gohan kinda fell by the wayside. I’m just saying, dude was supposed to be the truth, supposed to take over the rock from his pops, Goku, but it’s like homie straight up peaked in the Cell Games. Gohan’s win on Cell is basically his one platinum hit (with features). My mans was a fucking baby-face animal that’s not a killa, but don’t push him!

  Gohan was voted most likely to succeed in DBZ and been chilling, making beats for five summers in his mom’s basement. I’m talking, “Damn, homie, (LITERALLY) in high school/Dragon Ball Z you was the man, homie… The fuck happened to you?” Now if you gonna try and say, “Oh, he got a wife and kid now. He’s a family man,” that ain’t no excuse. He couldn’t dust off the NordicTrack? My man couldn’t hop on Groupon to get a discount at a Bikram yoga class? Okay, the fandom didn’t let you succeed your dad, but you mean to tell me you couldn’t hop on the antigravity Bowflex at all (is anyone even getting these references) just to keep in shape? I don’t wanna hear y’all blaming his mom, Chi-Chi, for trying to make him a scholar either. Chi-Chi wanted him to get a good job, which he did, but she ain’t want ’em to be a fucking punk. Chi-Chi knew it was downhill once he started that Saiyaman phase and began to train Goten immediately. The fandom’s also so quick to be like, “Well, Goku wasn’t around,” “Goku was training all the time. Died. Stayed dead. Came back—” Lemme cut you the fuck off right there.

  How many times did Goku save Earth’s ass? How many times did homie die for Earth? Then he went and tried to train his son to take over and fucking died again when Gohan got cocky with Cell. Bruh, we ain’t blaming that man’s pops for this specific shit right here. If my daddy had to train all the time ’cause Earth was always in danger from ’roided up rando aliens trying to run the natural resources, I’m not crying about his ass not being there for me, ’cause he’d say, “Oh, you wanna pull the ‘my daddy wasn’t there to toss a football with me’ card? That’s ’cause I was making sure you had a damn atmosphere over your head to even toss the damn thing.”

  No, sir. I’m doing push-ups ’cause I’m gonna be damn sure able to windmill the rock when he gets knocked and passes it to me. Not Gohan though… this guy legit went from child prodigy to State Farm customer service agent. Look at ya mans now… LOOK AT YOUR MANS AND DEM! You may also say, “Well, he’s a pacifist.” That still ain’t no excuse ’cause I know a couple pacifists that ain’t letting certain shit pass their fists… Man, y’all know why we here. Let’s put this horse out to pasture.

  *sets timer*

  *DEEP INHALE*

  “Let Nas Down” should be playing anytime Gohan appears on-screen.

  Gohan stay dressed in business casual clothes lookin’ like he in a fuckin’ Allstate commercial.

  Goahn lookin’ like a walking J.Crew mannequin.

  Gohan lookin’ like he ’bout to fap to his calculus book.

  Gohan lookin’ like that geek chic phase NBA players were struggling through.

  Gohan the dude at work by the watercooler talking ’bout how much he benched in high school.

  Gohan the dude at work by the copy printer going through a midlife crisis.

  Gohan the dude at work washing ayebody else’s dishes.

  Gohan the dude at work that gets his stapler ran daily.

  Gohan the dude at work saying, “Did you try holding Ctrl + Alt + Delete?”

  And I know just what the fuck you are thinking: “Oooh, but he still has the mystic power level and—”

  Mystic Gohan ain’t do a GOTdamn thing.

  Mystic Gohan is the softest soft drink on Earth as far as I am concerned.

  Mystic Gohan is an alternate costume L for Gohan to rock.

  Mystic Gohan is the fucking Frank Ocean of DBZ and we still waiting on that new power level to show up.

  Mystic Gohan is straight up Michael Jordan’s Secret Stuff for the Tune Squad in Space Jam.

  Gohan is like blueberries, he’s trash in everything except waffles (the Namek Saga) and muffins (Cell Saga).

  Gohan’ll have one good round at Taboo and then chokes each turn afterward.

  Gohan’ll be the only dude coming in to work on Saturdays.

  Gohan’ll have Tobey Maguire playing him in the live-action film.

  THEN. THEY. HAD. YOUR. BOY. OUT. HERE. IN. A. TRACKSUIT. MY. G!

  Bruh, that shit ain’t even Under Armour!

  Gohan out here in the Generic Windbreakers #4 from WWF WrestleMania 2000!

  Gohan out here in the Juiceman infomercial dude’s early bird special tracksuit!

  They legit got Gohan in the Magic Mike breakaway sweats?

  They legit got Gohan in the fucking knockoff Nike sweat suit?

  Why Goh
an’s tracksuit the same color of Oscar the Grouch’s living room?

  Why Gohan’s tracksuit look like an outtake from You Got Served?

  His power level may be over 9,000, but I guarantee that outfit was under $9.

  Gohan rocking the exact same outfit as the gym teacher (Hayato) from Rival Schools.

  IF SOMEBODY DON’T GET GOHAN OUT OF HOME MOVIES’ COACH MCGUIRK ALTERNATE COSTUME RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.

  *feels self running out of breath*

  *hears announcer shouting, “DOWN GOES GOHAN! DOWN GOES GOHAN!”*

  *sees Gohan hit the floor*

  *starts fading from lack of air*

  *…but the audience raises their arms in the air to give their energy for me to keep going*

  Gohan need to go to Scared Straight for Super Saiyans.

  Gohan need to go back to appropriating Namekian culture.

  Gohan need to put the Saiyaman durag back on ’cause nothing was ever the same since.

  Gohan need to get a Cobra Kai gym membership.

  Gohan need to stop listening to Fleetwood Mac and put DMX back in the playlist.

  Gohan need to get his business-in-the-front, party-in-the-back mullet back and remember who the fuck he is.

  Gohan need to watch some of his old AMVs to remember who the fuck he is, because he’s one episode away from his final form being a Yamcha cry meme.

  *TIME*

  The Want to Protect Taraji’s Proud Mary, Critiquing the Choir, and How We Judge Black Art

  WILLIAM EVANS, aka The Bourne with an Afro Supremacy

  “I’M ROOTING FOR everybody Black.”

  It’s hard to articulate all the ways in which Issa Rae’s now infamous quote both summarized and galvanized the sentiments of Black folks when she calmly delivered those words during the 2017 Emmy Awards. Black people do this, often to our dying breath. Whether it be with TV awards or Black quarterbacks in the playoffs, seeing a Black person compete in a realm that is not necessarily populated by Black people can often be the tiebreaker when there’s no previous vested interest. It is the very American adage (ironically) of everyone loves an underdog. But with Black people, because of how often we are the underdog.

  I get it, Issa, I do. I think the context is important here. In intent, I’m sure Issa’s everybody means truly everybody, not just everybody recognized enough to make it to an awards show. That’s an important distinction, because rooting for everybody Black and rooting for everybody Black that got nominated for an Emmy are worlds apart, even when they are conflated with each other. Black art doesn’t have to equate to Black art excellence. But so often, Black art gets scrutinized in the same way. So then the question is: What do we do with Black art that doesn’t meet our expectations? How do we manage it and acknowledge it? And ultimately, what is our commitment to it?

  This dilemma has existed forever, but I found myself more interested in its exploration with the release of Proud Mary, the Taraji P. Henson special ops–type action movie that was released in January of 2018. When the trailer and art for the movie dropped the previous year, there was a great deal of excitement for an abundance of reasons. Proud Mary looked like The Bourne Identity with a Black woman. Assassin-level training. Master of disguises. Hand-to-hand combat, one-woman-army type of shit.

  First and foremost, Henson is very easy to root for. Often unfiltered, authentic, and rooted, Taraji feels like one of us that had the talent and limited opportunity but busted her ass and made it. She’s a legit premier talent on TV and an Academy Award nominee. So if she’s doing something, we’re going to show up and support, because if Taraji is winning, we feel like we’re all winning.

  Second, there’s not a whole lot of predominantly Black action films out there that get major releases. And definitely not with a woman as the protagonist who looks like a complete badass. After getting about seven different Black Widow knockoff movies with a white woman killing everyone in sight, then yes, Black people are excited for the possibility of seeing a Black woman in that type of role.

  And last, the promotion was unapologetically Black. The trailer, art, and design were all gorgeous, and while there wasn’t much ongoing marketing to pull from, the initial images were easy to feast upon.

  All of that explains why we wanted it to be good. But does that make it good? In this case, no. Sadly, no. With the naked eye, you could say that reviews on Proud Mary were split. The critics were tearing it down, but there were plenty of fans championing the movie, qualified as that praise may be. Of course, one’s love or disdain for any kind of media is often a subjective venture. If you don’t have a vested interest in providing a balanced critique *cough, like being a reporting pop culture site, cough* then you are going to most likely bring your preferences and, yes, prejudices into it. You might honestly believe that Proud Mary is a good film. Or you might feel that Proud Mary is a film you wish desperately to be good. By the objective critique of the movie, all indications would be that it’s not very good. So, I would guess the question is, why does that matter?

  Proud Mary brings into focus the question we tepidly approach: What exactly do we do with art that may or may not rise to excellence when Black people are behind it? It is a loaded scenario for sure. If a movie filled with predominantly Black people comes out with too much hype and is terrible, a simple dismissal of the film isn’t the resolution. If Black art fails, we don’t have the luxury to question the production alone. Was it sabotaged? Was it unfairly marketed? Did it tank because it wasn’t catered enough to the white gaze? Is there a penalty to Black authenticity? All of this may sound like conspiracy when rattled off in this way, but there are concrete reasons for the skepticism. We’ve seen these things happen before, so we are reluctant to trust a system of fair review for things we either do enjoy or really want to enjoy.

  But if we consider the fact that it may not be good—whether it be Proud Mary or Gabrielle Union’s Breaking In or Paula Patton’s Traffik (with the hard K, no less) that released later that year—when it disappoints, well, what is our responsibility then? What is omnipresent is what we collectively fear as a worst-case scenario. There is the possibility that if Proud Mary, the action film debut that was produced by and stars our beloved Taraji, is bad, that the possibility may never come up for her (or others like her) again. We drown in a sea of white mediocrity every day (how many NCIS shows are there now?) but are all too aware how easily Black stars and their ventures get benched if they don’t succeed.

  It is a tangible fear. If Gerard Butler stars in a terrible movie, he will have another starring role the following summer. If Taraji gets a taste of being a leading woman in a movie (two in the last two years), none of us want to see her go backward from that.

  This ties into half a hundred other questions about how we treat Black artists compared to white artists and what the standard of quality should be. As I watched the conversations about Proud Mary rage on, the most frequent defense of the film’s shortcomings typically came in the form of comparing it to similarly mediocre-to-bad white films. Do I think a bad Taraji-led film means she shouldn’t get another opportunity at the character or a similar role? Of course not. But that’s because I think Taraji is a good performer in a poorly written movie, not because other films as bad as Proud Mary already exist. For instance, I thought the Red Sparrow movie with Jennifer Lawrence was bad and pretty unoriginal. And yet, I saw a lot of people saying, “Well, if they can keep remaking that movie premise, then we can have Proud Mary.” I mean, sure. But that doesn’t make Proud Mary good… that just makes two bad films.

  This is, of course, part of a bigger phenomenon. Black people are fiercely protective of their art and artists because we know how easily they can be degraded and nullified. I think about how A Wrinkle in Time was supposed to be an exploration of the source and a visually extravagant film… for a younger audience. But it happened directly after Black Panther. And because predominantly Black films are still treated as monolithic (even among Black people), there was discussion an
d push that we needed to support A Wrinkle in Time like we supported Black Panther, ignoring the fact that those films had completely different visions and audiences. So when A Wrinkle in Time did not do MCU numbers, it was seen as a disappointment. But like, your twelve-year-old thought A Wrinkle in Time was pretty cool. And that was the original aim. It’s an example of how the impulse to push for the success of Black art is born from the necessity of protecting it preemptively. This is an experience we know well: we’ve watched what white media consumption can do to a Black star that has either served their purpose, didn’t kneel to “good Negro” ideals, or ruffled sensibilities outright. The early and brief careers of Eriq La Salle and Isaiah Washington demonstrate this. Possible Terrence Howard more recently. Fading Black stars aren’t just forgotten. They are often buried. And because we’ve seen that play out so often, we have made it more difficult to critique some media in a social space. Some of the best examples of this have happened on Netflix, with the releases of The Get Down and Luke Cage.

  Count me as one of the early adopters of really digging The Get Down. I was thirsty for a POC-led period piece that wasn’t centered around slavery. And so, I was on board for all of it, which means that I was willing to give it all the rope I could manage. And while I still think a couple of episodes from the first season (and by God, just the first season) are still pretty good, the show is almost hard to watch at times. Once I had a brief reprieve from being starved for that specific kind of content, I was a lot more objective in admitting the many flaws the show had. Still, I saw myself defending it, often against people that didn’t embrace it. “This is a show about the birth of hip-hop that’s filled with Black and Brown people, what the hell is wrong with you?!” We joke about not wanting to get dragged for saying something bad about a thing that Black people love, but it’s a real thing. There is a sense of betrayal, that we are cracking some foundational defense if we aren’t all in agreement that this very Black thing is the very best thing.