Director Zeinabu irene Davis
COMPENSATION B+
USA (95 mi) 1999
d: Zeinabu irene Davis
Because I had loved so
deeply,
Because I had loved so long,
God in His great compassion
Gave me the gift of song.
Because I had loved so long,
God in His great compassion
Gave me the gift of song.
Because I have loved
so vainly,
And sung with such faltering breath,
The Master in infinite mercy
Offers the boon of Death.
And sung with such faltering breath,
The Master in infinite mercy
Offers the boon of Death.
Compensation, from
Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow, by
Paul Laurence Dunbar, 1905, Compensation by Paul Laurence Dunbar
- Poems | poets.org
Inspired by the Paul Lawrence Dunbar poem, Davis sets the
film in Dunbar’s time, in the style of early 20th century pictures, complete
with title cards and original ragtime piano accompaniment by Reginald R.
Robinson a few years before he won his MacArthur Genius Grant. Perhaps more importantly, the story is told
using vintage historical photographs that effectively tell a story of black
history, written by the director’s husband March Arthur Chéry, complimented by
recreated scenes with live actors which are notable for a written storyline
accentuating the world of the deaf, set in two different time periods, 1906,
leading to the great migration north to Chicago, as well as the present day,
using many of the same actors in both time periods. Seamlessly integrated throughout, made on an
indie film budget for only $125,000, the black and white film shot by Pierre H.
L. Desir Jr. on 16mm accentuates the historical look, shot in and around
Chicago and the Calvary Baptist Church in Evanston, including notable scenes
shot on the grounds of the Northwestern University campus, while the beach
scenes, made to resemble the look and turn-of-the-century eloquence of Julie
Dash’s Daughters
of the Dust (1991), were shot at the Indiana Dunes, where industrial
smokestacks from the nearby city of Gary are visible off in the distance. Dash and Davis are both part of a collective
of black students from UCLA called the L.A. Rebellion, originating in the late
60’s and 70’s following the aftermath of the Civil Rights and black liberation
struggles, the war in Vietnam, and the full-blown destruction of the Watts
riots, telling stories about black people that hadn’t been told before or
disappeared from cultural erasure, reclaiming control over their own identity,
creating a new black cinema, mentoring and paving the way for new young black
directors, both male and female, reclaiming black cultural symbols,
highlighting aspects of black history omitted from Hollywood depictions, while
determined to offer a transformative vision of a better society. Daughters
of the Dust, the first feature by a black woman to be commercially released
in the United States, exemplifies a new black aesthetic, as does this film,
using silent film techniques to explore new ways to communicate and view the
world around us, amusingly reenacting The
Railroad Porter, one of the earliest black silent films that has been lost,
along with 75% of the silent film archives, intentionally mixing black history
with a deaf culture, explicitly accessible for both deaf and hearing viewers,
offering a surprising tenderness in tone.
According to the director, the film was not written
originally for a deaf woman, but she happened to be in Minneapolis searching
for some interesting live theater to see and wandered into a deaf theater
production of Waiting for Godot,
finding Michelle A. Banks in a starring role and immediately knew she was right
for the part, appearing here as Malindy in 1906, college educated and highly
literate, but working as a professional seamstress, attending Kendall School
for the Deaf until blacks were expelled in 1904, reserved exclusively for
whites, with blacks sent across the country to find another deaf school,
remaining segregated until the landmark Supreme Court decision in 1954, Brown v. Board of Education. In this way, segregated blacks could easily
understand and relate to colonized people occupied elsewhere, developing
similar psychological patterns, as evidenced by Franz Fanon in his book White Skin, Black Masks. While the deaf culture is marginalized as
well, Malindy is a strong advocate of education and knowledge, regularly seen
writing in her diary, as it gives her strength and helps embolden her, always
comfortable in her own skin, developing the confidence necessary to enter into
a relationship with a hearing boyfriend, Arthur, John Earl Jelks, getting
little support from those in the deaf community who have learned to distrust
the hearing culture. What’s particularly
poignant are the extremes taken in attempting
to communicate, which may include sign language (which the partner would have
to learn), writing on paper (where the partner would have to learn to read),
and also the facial and bodily expressions, which are quite revealing in
themselves, as they accurately convey the mood.
One of the recurring motifs is watching Malindy on the beach dancing to
music that she hears in her head, while flute music written by African
percussionist Atiba Y. Jali plays for viewers, creating a sense of empowerment,
but also grace and beauty in the delicate movements. This sense of appealing to the Other, to
someone outside one’s culture is impressive, not only for the developed sense
of intimacy, but the discovery of new attitudes and ideas, which are a key
component to acquiring knowledge, contrasted against demeaning archival
photographs reflecting a steady stream of racial intolerance. The film is impressive in exploring Pan African
spirituality, including symbols and various trains of thought, all contributing
to Malindy’s independence, confident of her own view of herself.
When the film moves to the present, freely moving back and
forth in time, Malindy becomes Malaika, both played by the same actress, now
with a job as a graphic designer in a printing shop, visibly seen wearing more
contemporary clothing. While she has a
deaf friend Billie (Christopher Smith) that works with her, seen performing a
dance at a café to the sounds of the poem Compensation,
she is enchanted by the effort made by Nico (John Earl Jelks) to appeal to her,
actually learning some introductory sign skills, causing her to jump with
delight (“You’re speaking my language!”), enthusiastically exploding with
multiple phrases, none of which he understands, but it reveals the untapped
reservoir of emotions just waiting to share.
Nico is particularly interesting, as he’s a burly man with a big
physique, yet defying racial stereotypes, he works as a librarian in the
children’s section of a black community, showing warmth and sensitivity,
usually greeting the kids with a spontaneous joy, happy to put a smile on their
face, but he’s especially engaging with the kids in a call and response version
of Dunbar’s A Negro Love Song,
energetically repeating the refrain, “Jump Back, Honey, Jump Back,” Bobby Norfolk - Jump Back YouTube
(1:31). Davis throws in derailing
afflictions from each era, pneumonia in the earlier time period and contracting
the HIV virus in the 90’s, both having a devastating impact, offering the
context of impending death in both parallel relationships, which elevates
what’s at stake. This confused state of
mind is expressed through fractured images, using an experimental film montage
of images overlapping into one another, overexposing the film, creating a
psychologically disorienting effect, yet a sense of urgency is established
throughout, where the extraordinary performance by Michelle A. Banks is
poignantly affecting, not willing to waste her time on just anybody, but
placing great faith in these individual men who are taking a chance on
her. The directing and storytelling are
equally impressive, as this is a radically different kind of feature, even for
an independent film, with remarkable use of archival photographs, where the
sophisticated sound design is a beautiful counterpoint to the quietness of the
film, yet the storyline pulls the audience into their vastly different world,
where viewers are more than willing to embark upon what feels like a genuinely
authentic journey, where the payoff is experiencing a superlatively designed
film that actually produces a new consciousness, directed, co-edited, and
produced by Davis. Surprisingly, the influence
of this film is all over the recent Todd Haynes film 2017
Top Ten List #6 Wonderstruck, both set in two different eras, both
featuring deaf characters, using deaf actresses, both prominently featuring
silent film era techniques, yet there are no acknowledgements in the credits
from Haynes offering thanks or “compensation” to Ms. Davis.
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