If I could take “The American Society of Magical Negros” from my memory, I would, but the sheer amount of fairy dust needed for such miracles is unavailable. That’s what I call debauchery, the film in which the writer and director Kobi Libii tells the story about a secret black organization that exists in order to comfort white people. It’s missing clarity, focus, sharpness, a political direction, as well as the macro vision needed for adequate world building. The film starts badly, there is a sort of a tonal descent throughout, but the resolution is so misplaced that the sharp clang from it far overshadows the flimsy laughs obtained during the unnecessarily embraced duration of the film.
Its supposed conjuring is at once confused to say the least: Aren (Justice Smith), a struggling visual artist comes to the revelation that he is not a member of white’s target market no matter how hard he tries to promote his multicolored yarn sculpture, and then it’s even worse when a different Caucasian German thinks he’s the help. Engineered Aren’s experience was additionally humiliating. Oopsies, he who apologizes all the time, more than your average Canadian, is rudely awakened by circumstances. Losing one’s composure is dangerous, but the life of a submissive black man who appeases everyone’s wish takes a toll. Unfortunately, Roger (David Alan Grier) intervenes and saves Aren.
Roger believes the artist has something special and encourages him to join the society, which has its entrance in a rather nondescript barber shop. After entering, there are some basic ground rules of the organization that are presented: black senses of fear have to shave egos of whites, for the fear of white rage murder; these black people also are to cover their true blackness before the white person they serve. At first, it looks like Libii understands the scattered respectability politics of the case: the film joyously ridicules ‘The Legend of Bagger Vance’ and ‘The Green Mile’, but a little later, one begins to ask oneself whether the picture is touch on the jock at all.
You also surprise yourself thinking about the little world building: Other than the fact that there were around 100 black people involved with the society since its inception in Monticello, we don’t find out much more. Do there exist other diasporic organizations on other continents? The members of this society draw power from each other (they can feel the anguish and fury of white people and resolve it quickly) but what is the actual hierarchy of this group aside from a black woman head? Also, Arian is an infuriatingly poorly written character.
Is there an uncertain connection with an unstable family life or uncontrolled friendship circles? As a minor aspect, we may recognize his mother’s white stem. Aren, however, appears to have more family. Neither the film’s title nor any of its other references are very relevant to the idea that a community should be protected. Where is the solidarity to be found?
Aren’s commitment to the earning organization is challenged in the course of executing a mission for the first time ever. Roger sets him straight regarding his expectations, having him babysit a grating but exactly where he is supposed to be a self righteous white designer, Jason (Drew Tarvet), stuck at the bottom of the social ladder at some social media firm. A few problems arise: Jason is a racist asshole who considers any person of color to be his subordinate rather than a friend. Besides, there is an attraction towards Lizzie (a captivating An Li Bogan), a much better designer who Aren begins to develop an attraction towards. And now Aren has to choose between pleasing a white client and following his heart. It is a strange twist that predicaments both the romance and the political segments in the film. It’s clear, for every second ‘The American Society of Magical Negros’ wants us to fight colonialism, for every second that Aren and Lars are shown their developing love (as if that mattered) somewhere in their hearts is being crushed as Lizzie and Aren try to locate their heads which, apparently, were not welcome in the predominantly white company.
In this film, we see a world where radical Black politics do not exist or are completely impotent in their cause.
Indeed, Roger goes as far as to tell Aren that their group does more good than a hundred protests could. Now, to be fair to the film, it is only fair for us to treat that claim with caution. But for all the so called magical negroes we are historically made acquainted with, the film fails to mention equally significant historical Bearer Black revolutionaries.
Sadly, it seems nobody informed Libii that a film could not just be one idea. Bogan and Smith, however endearing, are not the ones to string this movie together either. Even Grier has a hard time with a thickheaded character who is never logically explained why he stays with the group. Kitsch production design and cloying honey lighting do not ever stop being at odds with each other.
That is, of course, the point in this movie. It ends with Aren giving an empowering speech which is certain to strike a chord with many people but which arrives too late in the day and is required to carry too much weight within the KCR’s bare bone politics to affect anything at all.
In contrast, instead of a conventional final grace note, you get a sense that The American Society of Magical Negroes either wants to challenge the anti black world into which it is seamlessly embedded or is simply satisfied with grinning at the existing world order.
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