The latest hit that has him fuming is a book called “We’s Lives In Da Ghetto,” written by a comfortably upper middle class Black woman (Issa Rae) who gives interviews about how dismayed she was in her post-college job at a literary agency that she didn’t see stories about “her people.”
Jeffrey Wright’s Thelonious “Monk” Ellison is at the end of his rope at the beginning of “
Jefferson adapted the story from Percival Everett’s “Erasure,” which remains relevant 20 years later. It is particularly withering in its send up of white people clamoring for their idea of authentic Black stories, like the literary agent Paula Bateman (Miriam Shor) and the film producer Wiley (a very funny Adam Brody whose character might be a spiritual continuation of his “Thank You For Smoking” assistant). Wiley is currently working on a film called “Plantation Annihilation” in which the ghosts of slaves go on a murderous rampage.
While it’s not exactly subtle, it’s also not entirely simplistic either — I’m not sure the film ever really reconciles Rae’s character in particular, much to the frustration of Monk (and us).
Still, it’s hardly a surprise that “American Fiction” won the people’s choice prize at the Toronto Film Festival earlier this year. The film is immensely watchable, staged without flash or pretention, that relies on its sharp script and talented and charismatic actors to carry the audience through. Wright is particularly delightful at the center of it all as he navigates a new relationship as well as the consequences of his lie and how far he’s willing to go with it.
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