“Is that you John Wayne? Is this me?” -- The Redemption of Mann

By Patrick O’Brien

[1] Introduction

In the short but pivotal scene entitled “These People Trust Me,” director John Singleton is able to use cinematic techniques to create an interaction between two main characters of different “races” -- Mr. Wright and Mr. Mann -- that questions the existence of race, challenges and lifts the veil over that of white privilege, and by rearranging the traditional power relationship between white and black characters, ensures, in the words of Jamie Barlowe, “the viewers [will not be] positioned as white” (32). It is in these sixty-nine seconds that Mr. Mann brings Mr. Wright’s privilege to the surface and challenges him to reject it, or to become what historian Noel Ignatiev would approvingly call a “race traitor.” In the process, Singleton redeems the filmic value of Mr. Mann in the face of fair comparisons of Mr. Mann to John Wayne alpha male type characters. In other words, if one were to attempt to find a snippet of the film in which Mr. Mann makes his presence necessary to the film and Singleton’s broader goals . . . this is it. The paragraphs below will attempt to put these questions of race in an historical context and to highlight some of the techniques utilized by Singleton.

[2] Broader Historical Context of the Film -- 1997

The final decade of the twentieth century witnessed a flurry of what became known as “whiteness studies.” Indeed, this is the time when “white” scholars began writing on the subject -- that is, treating, or acknowledging, “white” as a race, and worthy of scholarly attention in and of itself. In other words, scholars such as David Roediger, Noel Ignatiev, Alexander Saxton, Theodore Allen, and Matthew Frye Jacobson were no longer content to ignore the influence of “whiteness” on race relations. Such nonwhite writers as James Baldwin, Alice Walker, Langston Hughes, and the widely acknowledged father of this genre, W.E.B. Du Bois, had been writing about this topic long prior. Elucidating the core arguments of these scholars would help us better understand the challenge to Mr. Wrights’ whiteness posed by Mr. Mann (and alluded to, but not discussed explicitly, by Jamie Barlowe in her review of the film). Whiteness Studies begins with the assumption that race is a socially and historically constructed category. As Ignatiev succinctly argues, “No biologist has ever been able to provide a satisfactory definition of ‘race’ -- that is, a definition that includes all members of a given race and excludes all others. . . The only logical conclusion is that people are members of different races because they have been assigned to them” (Ignatiev 1997, 1). These scholars also argue that whiteness is not a culture and is nothing more than, according to Roediger, “a terrifying attempt to build an identity on what one isn’t and on whom one can hold back” (13). As Ignatiev suggests, “Whiteness is not a culture . . . Whiteness has nothing to do with culture and everything to do with social position . . . . Without the privileges attached to it, the white race would not exist, and the white skin would have no more social significance than big feet” (Ignatiev 1997).

[3] A Fun Look at the Effect of “Whiteness”

An ignorance of this historical understanding of the constructedness of whiteness has led to comments in our own time such as those recently made by Glenn Beck, formerly of Fox News. On the July 28, 2009, edition of Fox News & Friends Beck claimed that President Obama has a “deep-seated hatred for white people or the white culture.” (mediamatters.org, 7/28/2009) Soon after, Katie Couric asked Beck a viewer-generated Twitter question -- “What did u (sic) mean white culture?” Beck’s response was “Uhh . . . I don’t know (shrugs his shoulders)” (YouTube, 9/28/2009). The point is not to poke fun at Beck, who eventually offered a mild apology for those comments, but to think about the question posed to him. Whiteness Studies scholars also shed light on the uncanny ability of those deemed “white” to remain oblivious to their own privilege. Others have noticed that “whiteness’ is also often associated with a (premature) denial of race issues, which only serves to render the inequities permanent. In “White Man’s Guilt,” James Baldwin discusses this topic:

They are dimly, or vividly, aware that the history they have fed themselves is mainly a lie, but they do not know how to release themselves from it, and they suffer enormously from the resulting personal incoherence. This incoherence is heard nowhere more plainly than in those stammering, terrified dialogues which white Americans sometimes entertain. . . . The nature of this stammering can be reduced to a plea. I was not there. I did not do it. (Baldwin in Roediger, 321-22)

This denial stems from “fear and guilt,” which often puts “white” people in the defense of “whiteness.” While the above plea may be technically correct, it does not absolve responsibility. As Baldwin responds, “But on the same day, in another gathering, and in the most private chamber of his heart always, the white American remains proud of that history for which he does not wish to pay, and from which . . . he has profited so much (Baldwin in Roediger 321-22). This is precisely what Singleton and Mr. Mann were presenting to Mr. Wright, and the audience, in those pivotal sixty-nine seconds.

[4] Mis-en-scene

In film theory, the term mis-en-scene, which literally translates from French to mean “placing on stage,” is shorthand for everything that is in the frame of a shot. It refers to the shooting and production style of the film and the entire scene or set (audio and visual) that the viewer can see or hear. A primary way to contribute to the mis-en-scene is through the visual style of the film, such as set design, costume, acting, appearance of actor, arrangement of items, movement of actors, spatial relations (for example, who is in shadow or who looks dominant), music, and props. Other methods involve the types and angles of the cameras used, the dialogue, and methods of lighting. It is vital to recognize that nothing on the screen is there without the knowledge of the film maker, so everything the viewer sees (or doesn’t see) has a purpose. Critics and film theorists often talk of the mood created by the mis-en-scene and the message that the film-maker intended to convey. Finally, the term “gaze” refers to the metaphorical lens through which we are presented, and understand, the film. In other words, are we seeing a film for the male gaze -- that is, one offering the female body as spectacle (Turner 69)? Barlowe alludes to this in racial terms in her review of Rosewood, when she asserts that “virtually all American mainstream films have been positioned as white (32).” In other words . . . the white gaze.

[5] DIALOGUE

The scene opens with Mr. Wright approaching Mr. Mann as he is preparing to depart Rosewood. Mr. Wright says, “Is that what they teach you in the army -- pack up and run when things get hot?” Here we are reminded that the view of this film is not positioned as “white,” that is, we are quickly reminded that Wright is mistakenly assuming that Mr. Mann is a soldier before he is black. In Rosewood, and this is true of the entire United States, he has no choice but to be black. That is what others have decided defines him, even when he was fighting in the war. Indeed, Mr. Mann explicitly rejects his veteran status by informing the community that he wishes to avoid another war. Wright continues, “Thank God the navy don’t let in . . .” Mann responds, “What? Go on and say it Mr. Wright. Thank God the navy don’t let in niggers.” Wright retorts, “I was going to say cowards.” Mr. Wright has the luxury, even in the midst of a racialized incident, of putting race on the back burner. Mr. Mann brings the scene to a climax when he asks, “What you gonna do wen that mob come down the road? You gonna grab up your rifle and defend the colored folk? . . . “You the master of Rosewood, hun? . . . How long you live here Mr. Wright? (Answer: 9 years) I’ve been in Rosewood one night. They asking me to stay. Now you pack up your truck and see who stops you from leaving.” Mann’s comments lifted the cloak of invisibility that surrounded Wright’s whiteness and forced Wright to acknowledge it, likely for the first time, and instantly transmuted the decision into a moral one. As Peggy McIntosh asserts, “describing white privilege . . . makes one newly accountable” (Barlowe 33). Mann, to borrow the argument of Martin Luther King Jr. in his Letters from a Birmingham Jail, which was penned to justify his actions, was bringing to the surface a tension that was already there. That “whiteness” and the privilege associated with it could remain veiled to Wright during an incident such as the Rosewood Massacre speaks to its “pervasive nonpresence, its invisibility” (Barlowe quoting Keating 33). That dialogue is evocative of the powerful line from James Baldwin in his 1985 biopic The Price of the Ticket: “As long as you think you are white, there is no hope for you. Because as long as you think you’re white, I’m forced to think I’m black.”

[6] LIGHTING

Even though directors attempt to use lighting so naturally and unobtrusively that the audience do not notice it as a separate technology, directors can utilize lighting to draw attention to a specific character or image, to create a mood, or to send a message, for example, about the inner workings of a character. In this scene, the overwhelming darkness creates a mood of uncertainty, while the two-tone faces of the characters represents the inner conflict faced by both characters, and is intended to notify the audience that this is a significant and alarming moment in the film. To draw our attention to Mr. Wright, who is being challenged in this scene, the back light from above left of the mis-en-scene, which, in practical terms, is used to separate the character from the background and create a three-dimensional effect, represents the possible, but as of yet unseen, redemption of Mr. Wright. The dark deep shadows and the lighting of only part of the screen creates, if the audience were to ascertain the intended reading of the scene, a sense of ambiguity and threat. Filmmakers call this “low key lighting,” which moves the key light from its usual position, to one side of the figure -- in this case, to the left of Mr. Wright. Half the face is lit, thereby representing the distorted, threatening aspect of the character. In this particular scene, both characters are lit from above, softening their threat and ambiguity, and creating a nimbus-like effect, which hints at future redemptive possibilities (Turner 65). It should be noted that Mr. Mann is also moving in and out of shadows. After all, Mr. Wright does have a point -- Mr. Mann is abandoning Rosewood. The short but significant scene is replete with shadows and low key lighting, successfully exploited by Singleton to create a sense of tension between and within the characters, but leaves open the possibility, even foreshadows, possible redemption.

[7] GAZE and CAMERA ANGLE

At the moment, Mr. Mann challenges the superiority and the “whiteness” of Mr. Wright (“You’re the master of Rosewood, Huh?”), Mr. Wright responds with a defensive gaze, which can be read as the “white gaze,” that is, the reluctance, consciously or not, of the “white” race to acknowledge or recognize their own white privilege. Mr. Wright responds, “Say boy . . . These people know me. They trust me.” At the very moment Mr. Wright is providing his own self-narrative, that is, defending his own racial views, he responds by using the racially loaded greeting “boy” and becomes defensive, reminding us of the James Baldwin quote mentioned in paragraph three. The camera angle also speaks volumes. Initially, Wright and Mann are on equal footing. The shot-reverse technique utilized by Singleton to represent conversation between the two characters places them on the same visual plane. As Mr. Mann is about to verbally challenge Mr. Wright’s self-narrative, “How long you live here Mr. Wright? (Answer: 9 years) I’ve been in Rosewood one night. They asking me to stay. Now you pack up your truck and see who stops you from leaving,” he mounts his horse, and we are presented with the visual accompaniment to the dialogue. The manipulation of camera angle, that is the higher position of Mr. Mann, is the major means by which the audience is informed about the changing power relationship between the two characters (Turner 59-62). Not only has Singleton created a character necessary to claim the movie from the white gaze, but has also allowed Singleton to accomplish a task greater than the merely telling the story of the Massacre at Rosewood. Mr. Mann has, in just a few lines, asked us to do what authors, poets, artists, and scholars have spent countless hours and words articulating -- acknowledge and reject the arbitrary and terrifying language of race.

Works Cited

James Baldwin, "On Being White...and Other Lies." In Black on White: Black Writers on What it Means to Be White, 177-180. New York: Schocken Books, 1998.

James Baldwin, "White Man's Guilt." In Black on White: Black Writers on What it Means to Be White, 320-325. New York: Schocken Books, 1998.

Beck: Obama has "exposed himself as a guy" with "a deep-seated hatred for white people. Media Matters for America. July 28, 2009. http://mediamatters.org/mmtv/200907280008 (accessed April 10, 2011).

Noel Ignatiev, How the Irish Became White. New York: Routledge Classics, 2009.

Noel Ignatiev, "The Point is not to Interpret Whiteness, But To Abolish It." The Making and Unmaking of Whiteness. Berkeley: Race Traitor, The Journal of the New Abolitionism, 1997.

Katie Couric puts the boots to racist Glenn Beck on his refusal to define 'white culture'. September 28, 2009. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVH_45acqaM (accessed April 10, 2011).

Ana Louise Keating, "Investigating "Whiteness," Eavesdropping on "Race"." Edited by Lynn Worsham. JAC 20, no. 2 (Spring 2000).

Krista Ratcliffe, "Eavesdropping as Rhetorical Tactic: History, Whiteness, and Rhetoric." JAC 20, no. 1 (Winter 2000).

David Roediger, Towards the Abolition of Whiteness. New York: Verso, 1994.

Turner, Graeme. Film as Social Practice IV (Studies in Culture and Communication) . London: Routledge, 2006.