-continues from above
*major spoiler*
Beyond those scenes being excessively traumatic, what sticks with me is the callous treatment of Lucky in the aftermath. Rather than this episode exploring grief, Chester’s death is merely a plot device to narrate Lucky’s descent into madness and her daughter’s increasing sense of alienation from her. It is a particularly cruel and misogynoiristic denial of emotional breadth, and as the son of a Black mother who lost a child and knows that this grief persists even 18 years later, it cannot be understated how traumatising these scenes are to witness.
That Them depends on lacerating and torturing the psyche of its audience is not lost on Amazon; indeed the series debuted with a concurrent headline in the Los Angeles Times: “The racist violence in Amazon’s new series left execs ‘shaken’. Does it go too far?” Before the series was screened, the trailer for Them last month led to an eruption of anger and upset in Black social media spaces from those frustrated at the incessant efforts to reify a new genre of “black trauma porn”. Also clear is that this is not merely a problem of “diversity” in Hollywood, often presented as the panacea for problematic film and television; both the show’s creator Little Marvin, and executive producer, Lena Waithe, are Black. Notwithstanding the overwhelming number of white directors and producers on the show, what we are seeing is that even Black creators can inflict racist harm on Black audiences. The dividing line isn’t “lived experience” of racism; it’s who profits and who suffers, and we are often not honest enough about which Black faces sit on which side.
*major spoiler*
Piccaninny” dolls are strung up outside the Emory home, while the N-word is burned on the lawn, and each member of the family faces difficulties in assimilating into their new institutions; eldest daughter Ruby is tormented by her white classmates with monkey noises. This repeated assault on Black audiences, however, reaches a climax with the gratuitous violence in episode five where, in devastating scenes, it is explained that the Emory family had moved from North Carolina after the mother, Livia known as Lucky, was raped by multiple men as she witnessed her baby boy, Chester, being wrapped in cloth and swung violently around until he was dead.
Beyond those scenes being excessively traumatic, what sticks with me is the callous treatment of Lucky in the aftermath. Rather than this episode exploring grief, Chester’s death is merely a plot device to narrate Lucky’s descent into madness and her daughter’s increasing sense of alienation from her. It is a particularly cruel and misogynoiristic denial of emotional breadth, and as the son of a Black mother who lost a child and knows that this grief persists even 18 years later, it cannot be understated how traumatising these scenes are to witness.
That Them depends on lacerating and torturing the psyche of its audience is not lost on Amazon; indeed the series debuted with a concurrent headline in the Los Angeles Times: “The racist violence in Amazon’s new series left execs ‘shaken’. Does it go too far?” Before the series was screened, the trailer for Them last month led to an eruption of anger and upset in Black social media spaces from those frustrated at the incessant efforts to reify a new genre of “black trauma porn”. Also clear is that this is not merely a problem of “diversity” in Hollywood, often presented as the panacea for problematic film and television; both the show’s creator Little Marvin, and executive producer, Lena Waithe, are Black. Notwithstanding the overwhelming number of white directors and producers on the show, what we are seeing is that even Black creators can inflict racist harm on Black audiences. The dividing line isn’t “lived experience” of racism; it’s who profits and who suffers, and we are often not honest enough about which Black faces sit on which side.
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