On March 12th, 2023, Ruth Carter took home her second nude gold dude™ (trademark Mia Vicino) for her awe-striking costume design in Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, where she endearingly reflected on her start in the film industry with Spike Lee, name dropping the retro-controversial masterpiece: 1989’s Do the Right Thing. Jack Carpenter, a fellow cinephilic freak, dear friend, and humble owner of a movie room, nay, film sanctuary as I’d like anyone reading this to envision. On the golden-tiered shelves of films galore held the DVD of Ruth’s first Spike Lee slay. My boyfriend, Grant, and I laid back in the comfy couches adjacent to the massive silver screen, locked into a film I merely knew as a “film to watch on a hot summer day,” and Do the Right Thing…did! its! thing!
I was under multiple impressions by aforementioned “summer must-watch” social media lists that this film was light-hearted…and you should, too. Mostly because I need to talk to someone who was just as exponentially misinformed as I was. It’s fun, no doubt, just until it’s not, and then it’s really not, and so on. My sister Lindsay has coined a phrase I doubt isn’t shrouded with familiarity by those around me: “I wish everyone I knew was there.” Though usually used in drama and surrealist fever-dream moments in my life, this was something different. I want everybody in my life to watch this for simultaneously any or no reason whatsoever.
As soon as Jack pressed play, I had no idea. In all senses of the phrase, I had NO. IDEA. The sound systems running through the sanctuary simply couldn’t have prepared me for the very first needle drop of Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power.” The first sequence was just not how I thought the film started. What I had more in my head is what came after: Samuel L. Jackson gracing our ears with the smoothness of…
Mister.
Señor.
Love.
Daddy.
There is so much to take in, and I'm already ready for the next watch to give even more of my attention. You can't look away, and you shouldn’t. Not only because Jack’s screen was impossible to ignore, but all of the beautiful, horrific, and convicting moments are exactly what you should be seeing. Never was this film not taking up my full brainscape as the conscience of its story focuses on the notions of power. The kind not only derived from the uncontrollable presence we hold in the most surface-seen qualities of ourselves, but the conventions and enveloping of prejudices through those qualities.
The conversations occurring in this film had never really been seen in common media, but Spike made them seen, hence its release’s controversy in the late 80’s. Dylan Parker speaks on Lee’s “uncomfortably relevant” filmography, and that description just buzzes my brain because that is SO TRUE. Every last minute, important words are spoken, rooted from love or hatred. The former, the sweet power of love, touches you with nuances of real life in the eyes of, say, the three men against the red wall (Sweet Dick Willie, Coconut Sid, and ML). The latter, the relentless path of hatred, is taken to the most intentional extent as Spike Lee takes your face, shoves you eye-to-eye with these barely fictional people, saying “Look! Look! Look!.”
It's completely character-oriented. Each person is a symbol, a representation, and fully human within their stories, including but absolutely not limited to: Mookie (Spike himself), Buggin' Out (Mr. Gustavo Fring), Radio Raheem, Smiley, Da Mayor, Mother Sister, the red wall men, and the true voice above all, Mister Señor Love Daddy. Unashamedly spoiled moment: MSLD taking his sweet time reverently name-dropping as many prominent Black artists he can under what seems like one breath. A simple yet deep-rooted thanks.
Music ravenously traverses the veins of this film. It begins, middles, and ends with unforgettable tunes that were rapidly added to my own queues. Not only the soundtrack, but even the score swelling as conversations prolong seem slightly off yet perfectly placed. If you receive no degree of exposure in this film's 2-hour trip, which I would find ludicrous and practically impossible, let the music simply take you away.
The film is only a day, and a hot one, so it still fits the “summer day watch” mold, but just not in the way you think. While these people fight the filth of the world, it simultaneously burns them alive. I felt, and still feel a lot of things, but above all deep anger. More than In the Heat of the Night, more than When They See Us, more than Malcolm X. Thank you, Ruth, and thank you, Spike. This film is important, remains important, and will be important as humanity continues to learn to open their eyes. I wish everyone that I knew was there in that sanctuary, and I haven’t meant that so severely as I do writing this entry.
WATCH. IT.
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