Time - Man of the Year/Time_Man_of_the_Year_Compact_Publishing_3YX-Disc-1_Compact_Publishing_1993.iso/moy/113092/1130420.000

Text File | 1993-04-08 | 6KB | 126 lines

                                                                                CINEMA, Page 71

The X Factor


More than just a movie, Spike Lee's Malcolm X is a pop-culture
sensation and an inspiration to blacks

By JANICE C. SIMPSON - With reporting by Christopher John Farley
and Georgia Harbison/New York


    What draws the crowds is the movie inside -- but outside,
on the sidewalks, far more is going on than mere ticket buying.
Vendors hawk books, buttons and photographs. Ticket holders
passionately debate the film's subject even before they see it.
At one New York City theater last week, the director showed up
to thank movie goers for their support and was engulfed by a
throng of youths eager for his autograph or a handshake.
Meanwhile, at another theater across town, a street-corner
activist paced in front of the waiting line, shouting, "Don't
see this movie!"

    After months of controversy and more media coverage than
any event this fall, with the possible exception of the
presidential election, Malcolm X, Spike Lee's 3-hr. 21-min. epic
about the martyred black leader, has finally arrived on the big
screen. For Lee and for millions of African Americans, Malcolm
X has always been more than just a movie. It is, in fact, a
cause. In the 27 years since his assassination, Malcolm has
become a revered icon in the black community. Young blacks in
particular, idolize his philosophy of pride and defiance.

    But many of them know little about the details of
Malcolm's remarkable evolution from a street hustler who slept
with white women to an ascetic minister in the Nation of Islam
who preached against whites and finally to an orthodox Muslim
who embraced all races. Seldom do they mention Malcolm's
reverence for education or his admonition that rights don't come
without responsibilities. Lee has said that his primary mission
in making the movie is "to open up the history book" on
Malcolm's life and legacy. At the very least, he seems to have
touched a nerve.

    Audiences at the first few days' showings -- commonly up
to 80% black, many of them young -- tended to be highly vocal,
shouting at the screen and applauding, especially during scenes
of Malcolm's flamboyant hustler days and later during some of
his militant speeches. But by the end there was usually a
respectful silence. Many people wept.

    Whether the film will have a similar impact on nonblacks
is still uncertain (though crucial to the film's chances of
returning a profit on its $34 million budget). Some whites have
been turned off by the racist rhetoric with which Malcolm is
often identified; others fear that violence might be provoked
by scenes like the opening montage, in which an image of a
burning American flag alternates with clips from the Rodney King
videotape while a recording of one of Malcolm's most militant
speeches plays in the background. "It's not going to be
interpreted intellectually," frets Constance Cumbey, a white
attorney who practices in the Detroit suburb of Bloomfield
Hills. "It's going to be visceral."

    In the film's opening days, no violent incidents were
reported. One nervous Portland, Oregon, theater chain initially
refused to show the film but gave in after local blacks
protested. Actually, many whites who have seen it say Lee's
restrained PG-13 approach quickly allayed any fears they had.
"I didn't think it was as controversial as it was made out to
be. The book was a lot more inflammatory," says Peter McCabe,
a 26-year-old actor in New York. "I could have definitely taken
a bit more shaking up even though I'm white."

    Director Lee stirred up a storm a few months ago by
suggesting that black youngsters skip school in order to see his
film on opening day -- a notion that struck many as
contradictory to Malcolm's pro-education message. Whether or not
students heeded Lee's call, the film grossed $2.4 million its
first day, a whopping 66% more than Oliver Stone's JFK, a movie
whose success Lee is explicitly challenging.

    Some teachers, like Diana Wright, an Atlanta high school
English teacher, headed off any potential truancy by organizing
class trips to see Malcolm X. "I wanted to help them become more
informed," says Wright, who is leading her students in
discussions comparing the film and The Autobiography of Malcolm
X, the posthumously published story of Malcolm's life that he
co-wrote with Roots author Alex Haley. Other educators found
ingenious -- perhaps too ingenious -- ways of drawing
educational points from the film, like teachers in Washington
who made a chemistry lesson from the formula that Malcolm used
to "conk" his hair during his street-hustler days.

    The kids are responsive because Malcolm is a hot commodity
in pop culture now. X shirts, X mugs, even X potato chips and
X air freshener are selling briskly. X caps are so ubiquitous
that even Bill Clinton sometimes wears one when he jogs.
Inner-city barbershops are being besieged by youngsters who want
the letter X shaved into their haircuts.

    Fortunately, some of this newfound fascination with
Malcolm is cutting deeper. Libraries can't keep copies of the
Autobiography on their shelves. This week the book will hit No.
1 on the New York Times's paperback nonfiction list. Other
volumes about Malcolm are also moving well. Says publisher Kent
Carroll, whose Carroll & Graf firm has five books about the
leader in print: "There's a hunger for information on this guy."

    Ultimately, the excitement -- some are calling it the
X-citement -- about the movie strikes many African Americans as
an opportunity not only to define and enshrine Malcolm but also
to regain the initiative in determining their place in society.
"His basically ethically conservative message about
self-discipline and self-development is a source of strength,"
says Jesse Jackson. "The movie lifts him from being a symbol of
violence to a moral leader. And his moral leadership provokes
thought."