In
Do the Right Thing, writer/director/actor
Spike Lee chronicles the
lives of working class Brooklyners in the ethnically diverse Bed-Stuy
area over a 24-hour period, on the hottest day of the summer. Lee gives a sense
of the film’s energy and aggressiveness as early as the opening credits. As
Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” blasts, sound and images are combined into a
brilliantly edited sequence filled with bright colors, attitude, and
anger. Shot by long-time collaborator Ernest Dickerson,
the film seems about ready to burst with its palette of strong, saturated
colors and emphasis on bright fiery reds and warm oranges and golds that create
a visual representation of heat. As temperatures escalate, so do the conflicts
between characters; tensions flare up and ultimately explode in racial
violence.
Lee
treads the fine line between the
personal and the political, making his singularly unique characters more
than just stand-in representatives for their class and race, but at the same
time refusing to focus simply on the individual, instead reflecting on the
wider social tensions that come to shape the characters and their actions. From
the first shot of the film, a closeup of a ringing clock and Samuel L. Jackson’s
character’s first words—“Wake up!” (which
also happens to be the closing line of Lee’s previous film, School Daze)—it’s
obvious the director is pleading with the audience as much as the characters to
open their eyes and see the urgent need for interracial respect and
understanding. Lee’s is a clear, level gaze at American politics of race, from
a distinct, African
American perspective. His films pose questions that evade easy answers; he
offers no solutions. By the ambiguous ending of the movie, it is up to us to
decide what “the right thing” is.
A
multitude of ethnic groups are represented, all scrambling for a piece of the
American Dream: Italian American Sal (Danny
Aiello) and his two sons, Pino (John Turturro)and
Vito (Richard Edson), a Korean family who owns a convenience store, Irish and
Jewish police officers, Mookie’s (Lee) Latina girlfriend Tina (Rosie Perez)
and her son, and over a dozen African American and Puerto Rican characters.
Racism
is most heartbreaking to witness when it is unexpected, as when Sal, who seems
kind, accepting, and genuinely happy and proud of his pizzeria and its black
customers, calls Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” “jungle music,” or when
Mookie is sure Sal wants to “hide the salami” with his sister Jade (Joie Lee).
A slow pan moves from Mookie to the racist, short-fused Pino as they
incredulously watch Sal and Jade talk; avoiding a cut between the two characters’
reaction, Spike Lee links them in their bigotry. No ethnicity emerges
unscathed; in a montage of
racial slurring that breaks the fourth wall—which the director extends in The 25th Hour
(2005)— everyone has something to say about everyone else: blacks, whites,
Jews, Latinos, Asians.
Against this backdrop of intolerance and
senseless abuse, the local deejay emerges as the voice of reason. Mister Senor
Love Daddy takes in all the street activity from his window and, like the Greek
chorus of Sweet Dick Willie (Robin Harris),
ML (Paul
Benjamin), and Coconut Sid (Frankie Faison),
comments on the action from his vantage point, as his “We Love” radio station
provides the soundtrack of these lives. Sadly, “We Hate” would be more
appropriate, especially when the disc jockey has to intervene after the montage
of racial insults: “Time out! You all take a chill. You need to cool that shit
out. And that’s the double truth, Ruth.” More than any other character, the
deejay embodies love, civility, and understanding. The radio station that forms
the soundtrack of the film, along with Bill Lee’s jazzy
score does more than set up the mood; it expresses cultural identity, and Senor
Love Daddy’s role in providing this music sets him up as a preserver of that
identity.
The
duality of love and hate pervades Do the
Right Thing, from Radio Raheem’s (Bill Nunn) rings to the
two opposing views on violence displayed by the quotations at the end. As Radio
Raheem says as he imagines a boxing match between the two sentiments, “it’s a
story of good and evil.” Radio Raheem’s first scene in the film also marks the
director’s first use of his signature extreme slanted angles. The canted camera
anticipates conflict and instability, foreshadowing Radio Raheem’s fate. Later,
canted angles are used whenever there is an argument, most notably between Sal
and Buggin’ Out when they disagree over the Wall of Fame. Slanted in different
directions in the shot reverse shot, the images, like the characters, are
literally butting heads. Ironically, a mural of Mike Tyson adorns the other
side of Sal’s wall. The image that Smiley finally manages to put up on the Wall
of Fame, even as the building is burning down, is also a perfect representation
of the two possible responses to oppression, peaceful unrest and violence
resistance.
Love
and hate permeate the discourse of Martin
Luther King Jr. and Malcolm
X. The two civil rights leaders represent different sides of the same coin.
While King disapproves of violence, calling it impractical and immoral, and
promotes love, Malcolm X advocates violence, and inevitably hate, when
necessary, equating self-defense to intelligence.
Spike
Lee doesn’t pretend to know what the correct approach is, nor does he make any
comments on Mookie’s act of throwing the garbage can through Sal’s window.
Confronted with the choice between his employer and his racial identity, the
character does the only thing he can do, whether it is right or not. Up until
this point in the movie, Mookie has never seemed to care about doing the right
thing or about his responsibilities as long as he got paid; in starting the
riot he asserts himself, not as a representative black hero, which would be all
too easy and simplistic for Spike Lee, but as a black man, deeply flawed, but,
as Mother Sister (Ruby Dee)
puts it, “still standin’.”
There
are no heroes and no villains in the film. Everyone is ultimately a victim of
society’s intolerance and discrimination. In the end, it is Senor Love Daddy’s
voice once again that restores order, encouraging listeners to vote in the next
election for mayor in voice over as a crane shot of children playing ball zooms
out to demonstrate that the life of the street goes on like nothing has
happened. Do the Right Thing is not a
film solely about race; it is a film about people.
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