I didn’t walk into Straight Outta Compton expecting to see my story.
As a woman who is Straight Outta Ohio, I didn’t expect to see situations I identified with or recognized. I did expect, however, to learn the stories of three brazenly blunt black men who turned musical water into wine. Much to my surprise, the images of police brutality addressed in the film screamed with the language of now. I couldn’t see Cube, Eazy-E, or Dre thrown to the concrete without thinking of Mike Brown’s lifeless body on the street or Sandra Bland’s distorted mug shot. The eye of this film was directed towards the anger of profiled and oppressed men and their willingness to face systematic roadblocks.
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They were lyrical super heroes in a way that wasn’t PC, poised, elegant or thought out—but I think that rawness is the point. A lot of modern day celebrities are so sterile and polished that their words would be drowned in PR policing before they could even tweet. These guys didn’t just tweet. They yelled, recorded, flowed, and vented until the ears of the system bled.
That is what I pulled from the film. So I was surprised this morning when I woke up to an explosion of frustration erupting from the feminist think tanks. They spoke of the erasure and silencing of black women in the film. While I appreciate and honor their perspective, I just don’t think this movie was about women. Yes, we see women as accessories in this film. Yes, we see that women did not have major speaking roles in the film. Yes, we see a lot of disrespect. But did these circumstances not reflect reality? Were these men not engaged in situations where women were highly objectified? Were women not actively and willingly participating in some of these sex parties?
With this critique, I don’t shy away from the misogyny and violence that is often present in the rap world. Dr. Dre has not been quiet about the terror he inflicted upon women in his past. I have not seen him run from publicity on this topic. I would like him to do more than just speak—I’m sure there are plenty of forums/platforms he can donate to and participate in to help guide men away from abuse and lead women to healing—but Straight Outta Compton wasn’t about that.
As a woman who is HERE FOR WOMEN, I have to advocate for us to own and tell our own stories versus expecting patriarchal systems to do it for us. I can’t expect an evolved female story in the midst of a film about an all-male rap group. If we want a story, then let’s write about Queen Latifah, Mc Lyte, and Salt N Peppa.
Let’s give those stories legs to run laps all over the world. Let’s encourage our brothers and sisters in large platforms to feed the talent that can put these stories on the big screen.Straight Outta Compton wasn’t about women.
So while I don’t want to see my sisters paraded around as accessories and bodies, I don’t put the onus of storytelling on one film. Yes, let’s talk about the hyper-sexualization of black women. Let’s talk about the wives of these men. Let’s talk about our female lyricists who were revolutionary during this time. Let’s empower each other and tell our own stories. Creativity doesn’t stop here. Filmmaking doesn’t stop here.
The band plays on.
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