Close Up (Jul-Dec 1929)

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CLOSE UP room and burning of the film. Long live Italy, if you feel that way about it, though clearly aesthetic motives are not to be ascribed. I won't tell you, by the way, which fam^ous German cameraman considered this daubed, unedged, grey soupiness the best photography, mein kind, the world has ever seen ! Now take (since everybody else does) the negro film and decide whether you think international cinema is here going to mean a thing when a white man directs, no matter how charmingly, blacks so that they must always seem to be direfully dependent on white man's wisdom. For all the coal black hearts in Dixie must beat to please, — meekly Uncle — Tom, pleasant, thankful serf beats. Confronted with an instability (his own) which he calls a Race Problem, the white man is always going to portray the negro as he likes to see him, no matter how benevolently. Benevolence, indeed, is the danger. Apart from being the most tricky and unkind form of human selfishness, it is often more than humbug and always less than seeing, and does to sugar coat much that is not, so to speak, edible. Stepin Fetchit can give us more than a promise though the trouble is he isn't meant to do as much. But watch him move and you will see what we mean. There is more than promise in the jungle, lissom lankness that slams down something unanswerable in front of what we let go past as beauty. This splendour of being is one good key to open a good many doors, all the way to our goal simply. Something has been given us here, set (if you will) in a physical symbol, though you might with equal truth call it a mind symbol or a psychic symbol. Something by which we know without any further 87