Next month will mark 15 years since the iconic black film, Love Jones, was released. It was part of a renaissance in black cinema in the 90’s and early years of the millennium, that appears to be long gone. Grossing only 12 million domestically the film was not a commercial hit (it was actually re-released in the summer due to the success of the sultry soundtrack), but lives on in the hearts of many who fondly remember the poetic romance of Darius Lovehall and Nina Mosley.
Love Jones starred Lorenz Tate and Nia Long, and was written and directed by Theodore Witcher. I got the awesome opportunity meet Witcher at the New Voices in Black Cinema festival screening. The audience got an opportunity to reminisce about the movie that made a lasting imprint, and gave us a soundtrack that still gets us singing along whenever we hear “Hopeless”, and of course, Lauryn Hill’s “Sweetest Thing”.
When Black Folks Were Cool
Love Jones has earned a place among the “best films ever” list largely due to the way Lovehall and Moseley were depicted in trying to find their way in life and in love. They were young, educated, cultured, black people who mirrored a population of black America that did in fact exist outside The Cosby Show. It was a movie demonstrating that we live just like everyone else. We have friends, jobs, dreams, and particularly, the desire to love. Love Jones, with its astute script that included human and interpersonal complexity, coupled with intelligent humor, was a film reflective of an era when black folks were cool, even without having a black President!
Back in the day in 1997, when the film was released, it was still "cool" to be black. We had genuine swag born out of immense and unique creativity. We still had several black shows on TV, and it was a great time for black music. R&B was R&B! And we were coming up on the burgeoning mix of black musical genres Neo Soul, where we were just getting to know artists like Erykah Badu. Hip Hop was still refreshing as it was planting its global seeds. Icons like Jay-Z, Lil Kim and Puffy’s whole roster of artists who created images of lux lifestyles were continuing to shape a cultural way of life that has since taken over the world. And varied artists like Kara Walker, with her controversial cut-out images were emerging. Back then we were changing the imagery of what it was to be black in this country. We were being represented as complex, thoughtful, and creatively cutting edge. And we seemed to maintain a willing and yet effortless connectedness to our roots, in our style, our expression and our flow.
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| Writer/Director Love Jones, Theodore Witcher at New Voices in Black Cinema screening |
I loved that part in Love Jones when Savon beats the drum as Sheila breaks into African dance right in the middle of a get-together! And I love how brown beauty was appreciated and considered “exotic” enough for Nia Long to be cast as the love interest. Even one of Janet’s iconic posters was prominently displayed outside the record store where Lovehall has his second encounter with Moseley. It was a time when we carried on the legacy of African oratory in coffee houses across the country that even started doing Love Jones inspired poetry slams and open mics, giving unknown talents a chance to be a star for a few moments, pre Youtube. And it was a time when black folks talked about, and saw themselves being, in love. Love Jones had every black woman looking for a "brother to the night" who could be the “funk in your left”.
What Happened to Black Film?
The film not only captured a space in time, but highlighted a period when we were dope-and we knew it! So what happened to the influx of black films that still lovingly linger in our collective memory? Today’s landscape of black film is comprised primarily of Tyler Perry flicks. What happened to the renaissance in black cinema? There are several theories.
Some say it's due to bootlegging. Another reason, as explained by Witcher, for the noticeable drought in black film over the past few years is that the writers’ strike that that began in 2007 had an impact. In addition, with the recession in 2008 major film companies stopped financing “niche” films the way they used to. Actor Geoffrey Wright, who was also at the screening added that African Americans don’t have the same kind of critical funding models as other countries like Vietnam and Iran, where there is an inner circle of financial backing. And even if a black filmmaker can get major studio funding for a project, he/she may have to make certain artistic sacrifices to appease studio execs, who largely have no clue about how to accurately portray a black experience. “Getting control over the aesthetic,” is the goal and the battle according to Wright. (Sigh) Will it get better? I hope so. But seems that currently, the way to fill the void in our black cinematic experience is to support independent filmmakers.
Supporting Our Independent Black Filmmakers
I got a chance to screen Single Hills, the feature film debut of writer/director Wilkie Cornelius. The film is about an undefined relationship between a non-committal young man who refuses to grow up (Jay), and an emotionally attached woman (Lisa), who finally decides to grab a hold of her self worth and break out. It speaks volumes of truth, and actually gives a respectful nod to its cinematic predecessor, Love Jones. Single Hills gained its title from the Brooklyn neighborhood, Clinton Hill, a community Cornelius said was comprised of a lot of single, black professionals. It’s a narrative a told in a poetic fashion and shot in areas including Fort Green, the historic Brooklyn mecca for black creativity.

Single Hills doesn’t answer any questions about love, but gives us much to think about in its depiction of an all too familiar situation when souls connect, but one party sees commitment as the end, and the other sees it as the beginning. I have a feeling viewers will see parts of themselves in each character and circumstance. You will also be very entertained by the presence of actor Victor Williams, of King of Queens fame, who serves as the comedic voice of reason.
Single Hills is just one of the projects created by black artists who are keeping black cinema, and better yet, black storytelling alive. Support this film and other independent artists who continue to give us authentic reflections of ourselves.
So get your Netflix on and revisit Love Jones! It stands the test of time. For more information about Single Hills click here !
Do you miss black films? What are some of your favorites?