Transgressions
High school basketball is most often the province of
uplifting films, in which talented players struggle
with social difficulties, supportive coaches, and
romantic dilemmas. O offers as object lesson the
doomed romance between a basketball player, O (Mekhi
Phifer) and Desi (Julia Stiles), and his difficulties
fitting into an all-white high school. Though it is
similar to other "high school films," it is also
radically different: given that it is, essentially,
Othello set in high school, the uplift is
pretty much nonexistent. That's not to say that there
aren't lessons to be learned here, but they are more
tragic than typical.
That said, the movie does feature scenes and ideas
that are sadly familiar, not only to those who are in
or have been in high school, but also to tv viewers
who have seen school shooting "aftermaths" (the fact
that this phrase has entered the general lexicon is
depressing in itself). As many viewers know by now,
Tim Blake Nelson's O had a roundabout route to
movie theaters. Originally set to be released in 1999,
it was shelved by Miramax following the shootings at
Columbine High School on April 20 (and indeed, one
scene at the end of O shows anonymous students
mourning their friends' bloody deaths, in shots that
mimic the tv images we've seen too often following
shootings at high schools and office buildings). The
public representation of the studio's anxiety was, no
surprise, that Miramax didn't want to seem to "incite"
high school violence, though, as the director and
actors have noted, O is unlikely to do any such
thing, since it is a very careful consideration of and
caution against just such horrors, an exploration of
how they might happen and how they affect their many
victims.
Now, Lions Gate has stepped up to release the movie,
as it did last year with Miramax's other recent hot
potato, Kevin Smith's Dogma. The movie can be
judged by viewers, however belatedly.
Written by Brad Kaaya and directed by Tim Blake
Nelson (best known at this point for his starring role
in O Brother, Where Art Thou?), O focuses on the
travails of the lone black basketballer
at an all-white prep school in Charleston, South
Carolina. Odin, known as O, is charming and sexy, and
a dazzling ballplayer. Not only is he winning awards
from the school and lavish praise from the coach
(Martin Sheen), he's also dating Desi, lovely daughter
of the headmaster (John Heard). While
O and Desi know they look fabulous together
(check them at the club, on display for their fellow
students and enjoying it), and are clearly fond of one
another, they're also quite aware of their interracial
status. During one interlude, Odin says he wants to
lie down together because "I just like the feel of
your skin next to mine." But as soon as they're
up-close, they begin a vaguely tense, jokey exchange
concerning the distinction between his "player skills"
and his role as "black buck" dressed up to play "house
nigger" at the school where he's beloved for his
athletic brilliance but also feels alienated.
This is easily the film's most cogent insight,
which it hits hard and insistently -- the ways that
longstanding cultural anxieties about race in the U.S.
continue to affect young people's individual and
community relationships, just as it affects adults.
While the violent outcome is part of O's given
Shakespearean fabric, its particular treatment of the
motivation for the violence is occasionally -- and
appropriately -- difficult to watch. This is in part a
function of the very good performances by all
involved, and the editing exertions made to fit this
complicated story into a feature-length running time.
For all his on-court polish and experience dealing
with racism, Odin is still a teenager, and his
uncertainty is aggravated by goading from his jealous
friend and teammate, the coach's son Hugo (Josh
Hartnett). The boys' friendship is competitive
precisely because of the way they are treated by
adults: Iago's evil is translated into a young man's
desire for his dad's affection. Moreover, the movie
makes too much of Hugo's problems awkwardly literal:
in seeking his father's attention off the court, he's
taken to enhancing his performance on the court, with
steroid injections from a local dealer (perhaps
predictably, this is the only other black character
with a speaking part).
These elements -- the unhappy children of authority
figures; the competing boys; the beautiful, naive girl
-- will be familiar to anyone who's seen a typical
romantic comedy set in high school (say, 10 Things I Hate About You, based on The Taming of the Shrew and also starring Stiles). And as in these other
films, unease over physicality -- a combination of sex
and sports -- leads the kids to act on their
complicated desires, both spontaneously and in
painfully calculated ways. But in O, the
consequences expose preexisting social tensions that
shape the kids' experiences, tensions that are, of
course, also economic, racial, political, and above
all, mediated, in television and movies and magazines.
There's no escape.
Nelson has written in the 26 August New York Times that he wanted also to represent the ways
that "kids are 'older' at a younger age now."
Certainly, the adult inclination to "protect" kids
from troublesome, provocative imagery and ideas --
exemplified by Miramax's "rationale" for not releasing
O -- is as tenuous and impossible to achieve as
it is understandable. "Kids" have demanding and
sometimes frightening lives now, for all the
"prosperity" so many of them supposedly enjoy. Their
day to day decisions are stressful, their exposure to
and comprehension of multiple choices (many not
available to them, which makes for frustration) is
sometimes overwhelming. Despite pundits' chatter about
the "short attention spans" of children and teens, it
is more often the case that kids experience and
process information in faster and more complex ways
than their elders: it's the nature of the world in
which they must survive.
For the most part (save for some cheesy
"metaphorical" business where Hugo imagines himself as
the hawk that is his team's mascot, which is just
silly), O respects its young characters and
potential viewers. Still, many high schoolers -- the
very folks depicted in the film -- will not be allowed
to see it in theaters (they will no doubt find ways
to see it, and some might even wait until it comes to
video and/or tv; recall what has happened with
Kids, Cruel Intentions, or even the
American Pies). Seeing characters of their own
age struggling with complex social pressures and
emotional traumas similar to what they see in movies
featuring so-called adult characters may be upsetting,
but it will not be surprising.
At the same time, O is reportedly not serving
as a wholly "correct" educational vehicle. Nelson's
New York Times piece seems intended as
something of an introduction and explanation of what
the director has in mind. Though he notes his initial
concern about setting the film in "the South," as a
location liable to cliches about racism, he then
expresses surprise, that "The facts, as concern the
story's racial elements, are far more intriguing than
the fiction. One irony of American hip-hop culture is
that white suburban kids strive to emulate the inner
city tastes in dress and manner of speech that are
described in rap music or depicted in its videos."
This "irony" works a few ways, but suffice it to say
that the distinctions between kids' tastes and styles
(as promulgated by media) have been blurred for a long
time. But as most kids know, the assimilation of
styles doesn't always lead to understanding and
empathy. While Nelson says he was happily surprised
that the South Carolinian setting could be handled in
a subtler, less stereotypical way than it might have
been some years ago, the fact remains that race and
racism continue to inflect "meanings" of class,
generation, and gender, however subtly. While Odin and
Desi's relationship might be perfectly "fine" on its
face, it raises "issues" that the kids don't
necessarily "expect." These are first articulated by
Desi's father (who presumes O is a sexual predator),
and are elaborated on by Hugo's increasingly
hysterical drive to punish O for what he perceives as
his friend's many "transgressions."
If this much is visible in the movie, it also turns
out that consumers aren't always ideal students, and
bring their own ideas to what they see, reshaping
"product" according to their own needs. This seems to
have happened in the case of O: the film's
website features a "Message Board" (this is
unconventional in itself, as most films and studios
don't ask for "feedback" or "discussion," but instead
present themselves as commodities and bottom-liners
before anything else). But the Board has been closed
down, with this "message" on the site: "Unfortunately,
some of the messages that have been posted in the past
month have begun to threaten the purpose of inspiring
meaningful conversation. Lions Gate does not condone
inflammatory statements of hatred and flagrant
disrespect for those involved in making and promoting
the film. We apologize for any inconvenience this may
have caused."
This disclaimer suggests a couple of things: one,
while Lions Gate wants only "meaningful conversation,"
it's not clear who defines what's "meaningful"; and
two, the movie (or the idea of it) has evidently
evoked some exchange that is not "meaningful,"
discussion that is perhaps even vitriolic. But it also suggests that the "conversation" on race is as pressing as ever.