That isn’t to say White viewers fabricate their takeaways from Atlanta‘s heavier episodes. And in the mainstream domain, a conversation about an episode like “The Big Payback” looks much different than it does among the show’s core viewers. Like jazz, hip-hop ( new jazz!), or the reclaimed version of “nigga,” Atlanta is going from Black cultural innovation to mainstream (i.e. With Glover popping back out into the world to talk shit, bolster his film résumé, and tease new additions to his pop-cult discography, Atlanta, like its creator, is no longer a niche experience. You are not meant to get more serious about racism and poverty after watching “The Big Payback.” Just more honest, less academic, and as confused as ever. It is the dry, damning laugh we’ve come to expect from Atlanta. So as we observe this lady relentlessly haunt this man for money he doesn’t have in broad daylight, it becomes more than a criticism of passive White liberals. We also know somebody owes Sheniqua something. We know Marshall doesn’t have $3 million. But despite its debate-worthy elements, the main takeaway from “The Big Payback” isn’t necessarily “Where’s the money?” What the episode repeats in increasing volume is, “This is everyone’s mess.” And as we watch the one-off characters attempt to clean, we quickly realize it’s impossible to make America spotless. But when we see Sheniqua, a Black woman, confront Marshall about his family’s enslavement of her ancestors, Atlanta drops back into its happy place: watching the chaos unfold. When Marshall, a White man, learns Black Americans are successfully suing White Americans whose direct ancestors enslaved theirs, Atlanta seems to be making a reparations pitch. “The Big Payback” is up there among Atlanta’s most unsettling detours. “We are Americans.” (From left to right) Shahadi Wright Joseph, Evan Alex, and Lupita Nyong’o as evil doppelgängers in Us (Monkeypaw Productions, Perfect World Pictures) So, how should we process this season’s information? With such loaded portrayals including Black social justice scammers and a jollof rice gentrifier, would it be lazy or righteous if Atlanta’s viewers limited their feedback to, “Damn, that’s crazy”? As ever, the series is largely uninterested in taking stances or telling viewers what to think. ![]() But Season 3 is full of uniquely Black American conundrums that even Black people find difficult to sort through. That this reserved group of Black people and aloof camera are seeing things clearer than anyone - life really is this weird, and there’s not a whole lot to be done about it.Ītlanta‘s audience is not trigger happy with the term “problematic” and it navigates the show’s ambiguity well. ![]() You may oh so briefly think this can’t be real after one of these uncomfortable scenes, but Atlanta coolly convinces you yes, this is happening. These are just some of the spectacles Atlanta conjures that most producers wouldn’t touch with a stick and no other show could present so coldly and unflinchingly. Mysterious Jewish American social capital. After all, Donald Glover views storytelling as the greatest vehicle of information humans have.īut as it grows in scope and clout, selfish expectations may distract from the magic of Atlanta‘s Black bystander view of the world’s chaos. There are plenty of writers and viewers who see the compressed zip folders of data in Atlanta‘s strangest scenes, unzip them, and tell the full stories with all the unlocked files. And that’s a good thing - the people who currently speak on Atlanta don’t flood the internet with awful takes and vain character obsessions. – Donald Glover, “ Donald Glover Can’t Save You,” The New Yorker (2018)ĭespite its growing relevance, Atlanta is not yet big enough (think Euphoria or Game of Thrones-level) to boast many casual viewers. ![]() It’s not going to do the transformative work we’ve been talking about. Best-case scenario, the show is just a show that makes people aware.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |