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Vol 9, Issue 47 Oct 1-Oct 7, 2003
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Bittersweet Blues of Film
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Director Carl Franklin wants Out of Time to be colorblind

INTERVIEW BY STEVE RAMOS Linking? Click Here!

Photo By Steve Ramos
Out of Time director Carl Franklin knows from experience how black filmmakers are unfairly put in political positions.

If one year qualifies as a turning point in director Carl Franklin's career, it's 1992. That year Franklin's low-budget independent film, One False Move, wowed journalists and found its way into theaters, thanks partly to the on-air advocacy of famous TV critics Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert.

One False Move, about Los Angeles cops tracking down a trio of killers to a small Arkansas town, brought Franklin quick acclaim. Shortly thereafter, much like his black filmmaking contemporaries John Singleton, Julie Dash and Charles Burnett, Franklin moved from the independent film community to directing a high-profile studio release, Devil in a Blue Dress, an adaptation of the Walter Mosley novel starring Denzel Washington as an ex-G.I. working as a private investigator in 1948 Los Angeles.

The year 1992 was pivotal for Franklin and contemporary black film in general. Spike Lee's longtime cinematographer Ernest Dickerson directed Tupac Shakur in the urban thriller, Juice. Wesley Snipes starred in two popular movies, Passenger 57 and White Men Can't Jump. Whoopi Goldberg enjoyed phenomenal box-office success in the family-friendly comedy Sister Act. Malcolm X, director Spike Lee's three-hour-plus epic starring Washington as the controversial Nation of Islam leader, hit theaters. Yet, the film that arguably made the biggest impact on the black community was The Bodyguard, starring Kevin Costner as a security expert who becomes intimately involved with his client, Pop star Whitney Houston. The controversy over Costner and Houston's interracial love affair is noteworthy. Black men complained about Houston jumping into the arms of Costner's white-bread hero. They wondered: Why couldn't the hero be a black man? Eleven years later, Franklin would hear similar grousing regarding his newest film Out of Time.

Franklin sits in a Toronto hotel room with a view overlooking the building's large courtyard. Below us, scattered among the café tables, journalists and photographers, actors and filmmakers, publicists and handlers intersect for interviews and photo ops.

In his quiet room, the 54-year-old Franklin is above the festival fray, yet he knows what it's like to be the center of attention, both for positive and negative reasons.

In the film, Denzel Washington plays Matt Lee Whitlock, chief of police for the small town of Banyan, Fla. He's going through a divorce with his detective wife Alex (Eva Mendes) while having an affair with a longtime friend, Ann (Sanaa Lathan). Whitlock acts as Ann's lover and rescuer from her abusive husband (Dean Cain). He's willing to do anything to help her, which puts his life and career in jeopardy.

Franklin listened to the people upset that Washington's character was married to a Latina woman. Their complaints were specific: There are so few good opportunities for black actresses as it is. Couldn't he have cast a black actress in the role opposite Denzel? Basically, in the eyes of these select critics, Franklin shirked his duties as a black filmmaker.

"I had that complaint today from a journalist, but I told him that's Miami," Franklin says. "Miami is this confluence of cultures. It's an interesting blend of Latin American, Caribbean and South United States cultures."

Out of Time (scripted by Dave Collard) is a mature thriller, different from the teen-friendly action movies that make up the majority of studio releases. The film twists and turns like a conventional Hollywood thriller, although there are elements distinct to Franklin and his earlier films, especially One False Movie and Devil in a Blue Dress. The characters are complex, believable adults. Music plays a significant role. Franklin pulls easygoing performances from his cast, especially Washington as the conflicted sheriff.

As always, Franklin also shows a grasp for the story's setting, in this case South Florida. The atmosphere is steamy, lush and intentionally retro, thanks to the art deco buildings.

Franklin understands the expectations, unfair or otherwise, placed on African-American directors. The screen roles he creates are also expected to serve as role models. The lead character in Devil in a Blue Dress, Easy Rawlins, was supposed to become a franchise for Washington. Lukewarm audience response stood in the way, despite the clamor from the black community desperate for more high-profile films featuring black actors in roles other than drug dealers and gangsters.

"It puts you in a difficult place because it makes your choices political," he says, leaning back on a sofa. "Artists, if they allow a political agenda to sway in any way or change what their impulses are, that's dangerous. The thing about art is it comes from inspiration. You don't know why it's there, but thank god it is there. You can't make it happen. Somehow it possesses you and you do the kinds of things you're blessed to do.

"The problem with being black right now as an artist is that everyone wants everything from every project you do and everyone has an idea about what they feel as black people we need."

Asked what role a black filmmaker plays in Hollywood today, Franklin's response is pointed. He has the same criteria as any filmmaker, black, white or otherwise. He wants to tell good stories that connect with audiences. His number one job is to be successful, and he's hopeful that an enjoyable thriller like Out of Time will make the cut.

"You do a movie and somebody will say where's the love story? Why can't we do something with more political content? Why does it have to be a comedy? As opposed to them taking the movie on its own terms. Because there is not a lot of black material, the burden is heavy."

Franklin grew up in Richmond, Calif., and he describes his boyhood home as a gritty place surrounded by large smokestacks and clouds of soot. It was a refinery town. A large Standard Oil plant was its main business, but Franklin had plans that led him elsewhere. He attended the University of California at Berkeley studying history and the dramatic arts and later earned a directing degree at the American Film Institute. He began his career working as an actor, first onstage and later in the film Five on the Black Hand Side (1973) and TV series like McClain's Law and Caribe. In addition to One False Move and Devil in a Blue Dress, he directed the HBO miniseries Laurel Avenue and the films One True Thing and High Crimes.

Franklin learned his cinema chops from both sides of the camera, something that gives him a leg up on colleagues. He's received his share of acclaim, but listening to him talk, it's clear that he wants a breakout commercial hit, a film popular enough to make an impact.

"I don't want to shy away from my ethnicity," Franklin says. 'A lot of people will say things like, 'You're not a black director. You're a director who happens to be black.' I don't just happen to be black. My parents were black, and they knew I was going to be black. So I was intentionally black.

"What I wanted to do with my career, and I am still trying to do, is what I thought Barry Gordy did with music. He took black influences from Blues, Jazz, Gospel, Shout and Jump and Rhythm and Blues and fused that with classical elements like French horns and strings and stuff. He created a synthesis the world had never seen before. I don't know if I'm creating something the world has never seen before, but I like to take my culture and mix it with a broader, more international culture. I want to see my culture play out on an international stage, see it on a bigger canvas and see its influences."

For the time being, Franklin's focus is on the release of Out of Time and audience reaction to the film, although he has two new projects in the works. One is an adaptation of Stephen L. Carter's novel, The Emperor of Ocean Park. The other film is more complicated, a period epic about a powerful African civilization in 701 B.C. that came to the aid of the Hebrew Kingdom.

As Franklin gets up to leave for a nearby cinema and introduce Out of Time at a film festival screening, he continues to talk about the project, The Last Pharaoh, a tale inspired by the history book The Rescue of Jerusalem. He's feeling good about this project. Will Smith has agreed to play the lead. Franklin is almost finished with the script. If it's made, Franklin is confident it will be something audiences have never seen before. It will be his Barry Gordy moment. ©

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Previously in Film

Middle-Aged Crazy Bill Murray dazzles as an unhappy actor in Lost in Translation Review By Steve Ramos (September 24, 2003)

Tough Gal At Last Kate Beckinsale ditches period dramas for Underworld Interview By Steve Ramos (September 24, 2003)

This Women's World Edgy female performances are the highlight of Toronto 2003 By Steve Ramos (September 17, 2003)

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Other articles by Steve Ramos

Arts Beat Think Pink (September 24, 2003)

Couch Potato: Video and DVD Murderous Maids cleans up (September 24, 2003)

Little Women Catherine Hardwicke shows the difficult lives of teenage girls in Thirteen (September 17, 2003)

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