Philosophy Black Film Film Noir Read online

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  point. A problem often confronting makers of black films, then, is how to con-

  vey this socially critical realization in a way that their audiences would readily

  comprehend.

  1. See, for example, Frederick Douglass, “Introduction,” in Ida B. Wells, Frederick Dou-

  glass, Irvine Garland Penn, and Ferdinand L. Barnett, The Reason Why the Colored American Is

  Not in the World’s Columbian Exposition, ed. Robert W. Rydell (1893; repr., Urbana: University of

  Illinois Press, 1999), 14–15.

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  ii

  Preface

  In contrast, filmmakers, critics, and audiences have long understood that

  film noir has a special capacity for providing readily accessible social criticism.

  Many have praised this group of films for how they make people think about

  existing structures of power and privilege. Although not typically directed at

  problems concerning race, film noir’s capacity to raise questions about how

  things normally stand is a salient characteristic evident in many of its most

  representative works.

  Film noir has fascinated me for a long time. I was first introduced to it as

  a child: an independent Minneapolis, Minnesota television station, no doubt

  inspired by the Brattle Theater in Cambridge, Massachusetts, showed Hum-

  phrey Bogart movies on Sunday afternoons, so I grew up watching Dark Pas-

  sage, Dead Reckoning, Knock on Any Door, and similar films that made viewers

  think in order to figure out what was happening and cast a critical eye on the

  rich and powerful. At the same time, I was enculturated into a society wracked

  by the simultaneous promotion of social equality and racial inequality, and

  taught that it was nothing out of the ordinary. As I grew older “New Holly-

  wood” filmmakers found inspiration in these movies I had enjoyed so much

  as a child and produced similar narratives that made viewers question how

  things were, something that I appreciated more and more as the late 1960s

  matured, ripened, and then rotted into the 1970s. Films that troubled me and

  made me reflect about existing social conditions seemed vitally important,

  particularly when focused, literally or metaphorically, on matters of justice

  and fairness. Like many of my era, Chinatown represented a personal land-

  mark because it gave expression to my horror at a pervasive moral corruption

  revealed by the Watergate scandal that seemed to comprise the normal busi-

  ness operations of many governmental institutions.

  At about the same time, racial progress seemed to stagnate, and in some

  cases recede. Resistance to integration and affirmative action, perhaps epito-

  mized by former Alabama governor George Wallace’s 1968 and 1972 presi-

  dential campaigns, indicated that many whites believed fairness to themselves

  called for unfairness toward everyone else. Often they felt that they had already

  “done enough” in favor of racial equality and saw continued complaints of rac-

  ism as pleas for special treatment.

  By this time, I had also become interested in philosophy. Aside from raising

  questions regarding what justice ultimately is, such principled inconsistency

  fascinated me because it generated Kantian-style questions regarding condi-

  tions of possibility for what we claim to know. For example, how is it possible

  for individuals to simultaneously hold clearly inconsistent beliefs? The issue

  seemed to me to be partly epistemological in that compatibility of our beliefs

  plays a fundamental role in any claim we might make that human beings

  (sometimes) act rationally. Such glaring inconsistencies required philosophi-

  cal explanation if assertions of human rationality could ever be supported.

  Thus when the new black film wave began to use noir techniques and

  themes in the middle and late 1980s, I came to perceive them as crystallizing

  many interests that I had had for a long time. Seeing Do the Right Thing for

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  Preface

  iii

  the first time I remember as particularly formative because I felt I was being

  challenged by ideas that I could not fully assimilate just then, but knew to be

  important socially, cinematically, and philosophically. When I saw the outright

  African-American films noirs released a few years later, such as One False Move,

  Deep Cover, Juice, and Menace II Society, the need to make those connections

  became imperative. It took me some time to figure out how to coherently

  absorb the ideas presented in these and other black noir films, and even more

  time to articulate that coherence, but one crucial feature in my efforts was

  realizing the insight expressed by Douglass: understanding white resistance

  to full social equality for African Americans often requires the integral use of

  philosophy.

  This book is the product of my extended application of philosophy to the

  role race can play in our cinematic viewing as well as our social practices. In

  writing it, I hope to have foregrounded the reflective, analytical work either

  embodied or encouraged by many black noir films; that is, the techniques

  through which these films at times explore, at times urge us to explore, such

  matters as the theory and practice of “white privilege,” the distorting effects of

  white supremacy, and the ways in which categories of race have defined and

  continue to direct much of our cinematic perception, our vision of the moral

  self, and what counts as appropriate moral sensibility. Part of my argument

  about these films is that they often function philosophically in the sense that

  they either provide or promote serious and systematic consideration of pre-

  conceived ideas in ways that make possible the fundamental alteration of our

  senses of self as well as the world in which we live. Their makers have directed

  noir’s capacities to trouble us and make us think toward matters of race and at

  times raised it to the highest level of reflective thought. By shaking white view-

  ers in particular out of their ordinary modes of thinking, these films encour-

  age the development of alternative systems of cognition that challenge domi-

  nant forms of moral knowledge as well as cinematic perception. Perspicuous

  representations of such matters are critical because they make clearer where

  we really are, morally speaking, and what we need to do in order to fully put

  ideals such as justice and equality into practice. I hope that the analyses and

  arguments I offer here will similarly inspire readers to reflect seriously and

  systematically on the interconnections between philosophy, race, film, and our

  social practices. At the very least, they should give readers a place to begin by

  offering them new ways to look at these films.

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  acknowledgments

  Like many first-time authors, I have amassed numerous debts to those who

  have offered help, encouragement, or inspiration along the way. Three former

  teachers I wish to single out for praise are Gary Iseminger, Keith Gunderson,

  and Marcia Eaton. While I was an undergraduate, Gary taught me more about

  philosophy than I ev
er realized, the dividends of which are still paying off. As

  my dissertation adviser Keith gave me the latitude and sense of autonomy that

  I needed to finish—and to go on and become a colleague. Marcia sparked my

  desire to specialize in a field that I loved. She also suggested years ago that I

  combine my interests in philosophy and film, one product of which you have

  in your hands. I do not expect these or any other instructor I had to endorse

  everything I have written here, but from time to time I hope they can see their

  influence in turns of mind or phrase.

  Old friends I wish to specially thank here are Garry Pech, Tom Atchison,

  Jonathan Munby, Karen Jüers-Munby, and Jim Glassman. While we were

  graduate students Garry and Tom listened to me for more than a decade while

  we spilled coffee and food on each other’s books talking away hours about

  philosophy of psychology, Wittgenstein, ethics, and political theory. I probably

  learned more about philosophical thinking from these two than from anyone

  else. Traces of their different influences are evident throughout this book—

  Garry’s sensibilities regarding philosophy of mind and psychology; Tom’s

  regarding radical political philosophy and ethics. Jonathan and Karen became

  friends and introduced me to American studies and comparative literature

  during open-ended discussions that lasted over years and dissertations, and

  gave me confidence that I had worthwhile thoughts at a time when I was very

  unsure of myself. Their generosity, both intellectual and personal, is some-

  thing I continue to appreciate. Jim has inspired me through decades spanning

  graduate student and professional lives with his political commitment, friend-

  ship, and intellectual insatiability. It was also Jim who first pointed out to me

  the problems regarding race in philosophy by telling me about those early

  articles by Harry Bracken and Richard Popkin criticizing Locke’s and Hume’s

  contributions to racialized thinking.

  Colleagues I wish to thank include Charles Mills, who electrified me with

  a presentation on white supremacy as a concept of philosophical analysis

  in 1994. His arguments underscored my sense that philosophy needed to

  address matters of race. Charles has also provided friendship, advice, support,

  and criticism over the years since we first met. He even served as a reviewer

  00i-348.Flory.indb 14

  4/8/08 3:50:54 PM

  acknowledgments

  Like many first-time authors, I have amassed numerous debts to those who

  have offered help, encouragement, or inspiration along the way. Three former

  teachers I wish to single out for praise are Gary Iseminger, Keith Gunderson,

  and Marcia Eaton. While I was an undergraduate, Gary taught me more about

  philosophy than I ever realized, the dividends of which are still paying off. As

  my dissertation adviser Keith gave me the latitude and sense of autonomy that

  I needed to finish—and to go on and become a colleague. Marcia sparked my

  desire to specialize in a field that I loved. She also suggested years ago that I

  combine my interests in philosophy and film, one product of which you have

  in your hands. I do not expect these or any other instructor I had to endorse

  everything I have written here, but from time to time I hope they can see their

  influence in turns of mind or phrase.

  Old friends I wish to specially thank here are Garry Pech, Tom Atchison,

  Jonathan Munby, Karen Jüers-Munby, and Jim Glassman. While we were

  graduate students Garry and Tom listened to me for more than a decade while

  we spilled coffee and food on each other’s books talking away hours about

  philosophy of psychology, Wittgenstein, ethics, and political theory. I probably

  learned more about philosophical thinking from these two than from anyone

  else. Traces of their different influences are evident throughout this book—

  Garry’s sensibilities regarding philosophy of mind and psychology; Tom’s

  regarding radical political philosophy and ethics. Jonathan and Karen became

  friends and introduced me to American studies and comparative literature

  during open-ended discussions that lasted over years and dissertations, and

  gave me confidence that I had worthwhile thoughts at a time when I was very

  unsure of myself. Their generosity, both intellectual and personal, is some-

  thing I continue to appreciate. Jim has inspired me through decades spanning

  graduate student and professional lives with his political commitment, friend-

  ship, and intellectual insatiability. It was also Jim who first pointed out to me

  the problems regarding race in philosophy by telling me about those early

  articles by Harry Bracken and Richard Popkin criticizing Locke’s and Hume’s

  contributions to racialized thinking.

  Colleagues I wish to thank include Charles Mills, who electrified me with

  a presentation on white supremacy as a concept of philosophical analysis

  in 1994. His arguments underscored my sense that philosophy needed to

  address matters of race. Charles has also provided friendship, advice, support,

  and criticism over the years since we first met. He even served as a reviewer

  00i-348.Flory.indb 15

  4/8/08 3:51:06 PM

  vi

  Acknowledgments

  for my book twice, so I feel doubly grateful to him for his willingness to plow

  through my work. Susan Kollin has read every word I have written, offered

  invaluable analysis and criticism of my ideas, arguments, and prose, and if I

  haven’t followed all her advice properly, it is only because of my own stubborn-

  ness and lack of insight. Dan Shaw has managed Film and Philosophy since

  2000 and I am proud to have had the opportunity to assist him in editing that

  journal. He also served as one of my manuscript reviewers and offered crucial

  recommendations that substantially improved it. Noël Carroll provided inspi-

  ration for years before we met through his work on the philosophy of film, and

  since has been a crucial colleague and peer. Murray Smith’s work moved me

  to focus on morally ambivalent noir characters, but my interactions with him

  have been anything but noirish. His thoughtful advice and criticism have made

  this work far better than it would have been otherwise. Tom Wartenberg was

  actually the first to recommend that I write this book, and I deeply appreciate

  his encouragement. His comments and advice over the years have substan-

  tially improved my arguments. Simon Dixon has listened in his patient, open

  manner and provided thoughtful, generous comments from before the book

  was even an idea in my head. His collegiality was a crucial factor in my belief

  that the work I was doing was worthwhile.

  Other colleagues I wish to thank include Sander Lee, Kevin Stoehr, Pras-

  anta Bandyopadhyay, Richard Gilmore, Bill Lawson, Tommy Lott, Amy Coplan,

  Lester Hunt, Carl Plantinga, Richard Allen, Ray Pratt, Mitch Avila, Katherine

  Thomson-Jones, Leonard Harris, and Ron Sundstrom, whose comments,

  advice, or encouragements were crucial to the completion of this book. I also

  wish to thank my philosophy colleagues at Montana State University for pro-

  viding me a welcome environment in which to do my work. My departmental
br />   chairs, Robert Rydell and Brett Walker, also came forward with support for my

  scholarship in the form of course releases, funding, and other assistance that

  facilitated the completion of this book.

  For more than a decade, the Society for the Philosophic Study of the Con-

  temporary Visual Arts has provided a welcome venue for my ideas. For nearly

  as long I have also enjoyed the acumen of American Society of Aesthetics

  members. Under the aegis of these professional organizations I have learned

  a great deal about the philosophical analysis of art, open-minded discussion,

  and intellectual generosity. I doubt my work would exist without the protective

  umbrellas they provide.

  Many of my students offered inspiration as well. Calvin Selvey pushed

  me in ways that changed the direction of my thinking about how viewers per-

  ceived race in film. Other students whose names I should mention include

  John Glock, Ryan Moreno, Tim Oakberg, Matt Krug, Randy Krogstad, Brian

  Lande, Chris Ho, Andrew Edwards, Sheena Rice, Aaron Peterson, Bret Stal-

  cup, and J. R. Logan. Their thoughtful responses to my ideas and arguments

  substantially improved this book.

  I must also thank Montana State University’s Office of the Vice President

  for Research, Creativity, and Technology Transfer, Office of the Provost, and

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  Acknowledgments

  vii

  Office of the Dean of the College of Letters and Sciences for financial support.

  As heads or former heads of those offices, Thomas McCoy, David M. Dooley,

  Sara Jayne Steen, and George Tuthill deserve praise for their willingness to

  open the coffers of the university for a project that is probably one of the least

  likely to ever produce a financial return.

  I also wish to thank Sandy Thatcher and the expert production assistants

  at the Pennsylvania State University Press. Sandy’s enthusiasm, efficiency, and

  wisdom made the project much easier to finish, and the production staff offered

  all the help I could have wanted. In addition, I want to offer a special thanks to